by Thomas Mann

It’s best I start with a couple of confessions.

First up – I love a Deal. Like a 3 for 2 or buy 2 and get a glamorous make-up bag, chock-full of sweet scented cosmetics which will take years off my face.

So it will be no surprise that I was over the moon when I discovered that Death in Venice wasn’t just one story, but part of a family of seven.

My second confession – yes it is strange that it didn’t occur to me that it would be a collection, particularly when the small print down the spine clearly read ‘…and Other Stories’ or that it was recommended for reading on a short story module I’ve just completed.

So I’m not so great with explicit messages.

To the book…

One word: Fabulous

Two sentences: With just the first story read, I cheered, I squealed and I was little loud for a Sunday evening, for it has been months since I read something so compelling and wonderfully constructed.  Little Herr Friedemann (the title and the protagonist) has passion, has sadness and has you experiencing very single moment.

Now to a tiny overview of some of the other stories…

The Joker – Story Number Two
The detail and description are perfect.  The narrator’s self-knowledge and understanding of others is so astute that at times it feels unnerving, sinister.  He’s not the kind of person I’d feel comfortable inviting for dinner for I’d always feel he knew so much more and might take advantage.

For instance in Chapter 5: ‘For the time being it was very gratifying to live as a rather alien, effortlessly superior figure among these acquaintances and relations of mine whose limited outlook I found so amusing but to whom, because I liked to be liked, I behaved with adroit charm.’ – is just downright chilling.

Later on in the tale there’s a painful scene where the narrator attempts to speak with a young girl whom he is very much attracted.  The telling is so uncomfortable in its clarity, that not only did I find myself for the first time sympathetic to the narrator, but also knowing how every inch of their brief and very disappointing encounter, felt.

Gladius Dei – Story Number Four
Again, Herr Mann can do no wrong.  His description and ability to put you there astounds.

Further too, I thought I’d include a brief touch on this story, not only because it’s superbly crafted but also as it examines something very important – the depiction of religious figures – pertinent especially in regards to events in Paris over the last couple of weeks.

A painting of the Virgin Mary ‘….ravishingly feminine, naked and beautiful…her lips were half parted in a strange and delicate smile.  Her slender fingers were grouped rather nervously and convulsively round the waist of the Child, a nude boy of aristocratic, almost archaic slimness, who was playing with her breast and simultaneously casting a knowing sidelong glance at the spectator’ – you can imagine might get a rise from not just the fanatical but also those whom find this kind of portrayal distasteful, disgraceful or just plain unnecessary.

Tristan – Story Number Five
I can’t stop, the description is supreme ‘…he had a slightly impeded, dragging way of speaking, as if his teeth were getting in the way of his tongue’

Or ‘The boredom of ‘Frau’* Spatz by this time reached that degree of intensity at which it causes protrusion of the eyes and a terrifying, corpse-like disfigurement of the human countenance.’

And ‘You, sir, as I have said, are a plebeian gourmet, a peasant with taste’ – Ouch

(* sorry I couldn’t find the German keyboard symbols so I put in her title not her first name)

Death in Venice – Story Number Seven
An interesting tale that I’m sure I was supposed to feel un-eased by, instead I found myself thinking ‘I know exactly what you mean’.  Not obviously with all of it but I did have flashes to a recent holiday we took in Thailand. For whilst I was happily trapped in the Resort for seven days, I had abundant amounts of time to ponder the actions and invented back-stories of my fellow Pool-side Loungers (yes I’m thinking of you Leopard-Skin Bikini Mamma) and if that Sundowner Sipper to my right, really was a CEO to a luxury brand, or was he just very accomplished when it came to dressing.

Thomas Mann explains it better on page 243: ‘Nothing is stranger, more delicate, than the relationship between people who know each other only by sight – who encounter and observe each other daily, even hourly, and yet are compelled by the constraint of convention or by their own temperament to keep up the pretence of being indifferent strangers, neither greeting nor speaking to each other.  Between them is uneasiness and overstimulated curiosity, the nervous excitement of an unsatisfied, unnaturally suppressed need to know and to communicate; and above all, too, a kind of strained respect.  For man loves and respects his fellow man for as long as he is not yet a in a position to evaluate him, and desire is born of defective knowledge.’

The Final Word (plus three and a half)

Read it, it’s Fabulous!

(image sourced by Goggle Images)

By William Shakespeare – staged by the RSC RST, Stratford-Upon-Avon Image sourced at http://www.fact.co.uk – via google images

With a little background reading under the belt, thanks to the well-equipped programme, and a movie based knowledge acquired with gratitude to the fabulous Kenneth Branagh, Team Family were beaming and bursting in their seats by 6.55pm last Saturday evening, anticipating the delights of our evening ahead.

Rest assured dear reader, the following is no personal tragedy, for by 7.43pm I was heartily congratulating my credit card for its ability to purchase and provide us with yet another outstanding theatre experience.

You’d think that the RSC would wear themselves out or exhaust their ideas box…though no way…they just continue to throw ambitious, exciting, superbly directed entertainment to their abundantly lucky audience.

Not only does this production clearly push the boat out in terms of staging, its setting – December 1918 – with accompanying costumes and music, has found me on more than seven different occasions, beg my husband to hum that tune again and in addition, sink deeply into my wardrobe searching for ‘those’ correspondent shoes and wishing that I hadn’t turfed all my skirts that dared to pass my knee.

The tale itself is amusing, however…the telling of it by these professionals is laugh out loud.  God’s truth! For during the bits where that evil doer Don John was off stage, the audience were giggling and chortling with little restraint. And not to completely give it away, there are a couple of giddy with fun drawing room moments and a treat at the policeman’s which had me screeching with unashamed joy.

Furthermore, the cast are above talented. For they can act (which I guess you might suspect), but they can also sing (really, really well) and even some of them can do this whilst they are playing an instrument (yes Balthasar this definitely includes you). And the casting…Beatrice and Benedick, you are such a great couple and Dogberry and Verges I haven’t cry-laughed so much in ages. Thank you.

It’s running until 14 March 2015.

By Henry James

Image sourced via google images

I approach my book reading in two ways, I either savour or I feast.

Commencing late yesterday and up until four minutes ago found me gobbling down at a terrific pace this suspense-filled treat. Don’t be alarmed, I did also sleep (peacefully) and managed some menial house duties during my non-book consuming periods, otherwise I’d be currently dealing with bad temperedness and guilt – which are obviously distasteful house guests – and spoil the mood.

So the story is disturbing enough to keep you close to terrified but thankfully not in a blood, guts and swear word kind of a way. For me it was more about the mind and what you see and what you say and what you don’t say and what you assume mixed with protecting the innocence of two beautiful children and remaining in control. And if that’s not it – I’m sorry. I don’t want to give away the plot…however it does include apparitions….

Told predominantly through the eyes of a governess who has ‘recorded’ the story, you are drawn in and get the bonus of being inside her head as she relates the events which unfold.

Also if you’re caught at a difficult spot in your book selecting career, where you are unsure about reading a big thick 500–1000 pager, this could be the ticket coming in at 125 pages – it’s a return train trip to London from Oxford or maybe Charlbury (factoring in a short delay).

by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

(Image sourced from amazon via google images)

As one who takes sleeping pretty seriously I have a bone to pick with the author of this particular page turner.

Really? Oh yes…I’m very much an eight to nine hour sleeper and disturbingly I found myself a little sleep deprived on the evenings of the 8^th and 9^th of this month. And trust me I know the tricks, you put down the book, you stop reading at the end of the chapter, you close your eyes, however I was truly disarmed by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s fourth literary pleasure (actually I should have known better for I’ve experienced her previous three – so why the shock…)

So, the focus on this novel is very much Ifemelu – a likeable, bold, honest and doesn’t give a rats what you think Nigerian girl, teenager, then woman, as she goes through the process of growing, learning, living and loving. With this, her appeal is far ranging. She is insightful, complex, curious and courageous.

Through this fabulous female protagonist, the story explores so many important and fundamental issues, not the least being race (or at least its perception) in a predominantly white nation like the United States of America, by one who never saw themselves as ‘Black’ back home. Furthermore, it looks at emigration (and some beastly struggles which can go with it) and identity.

The novel also examines relationships. Like the ones you have with relatives, friends and lovers. Even the kind you have with people who take advantage of you, the ones you have for experimental purposes and oh – those ones you didn’t mean to have.

Additionally, the book is well structured and I felt I was learning the whole way through. Specifically, as the action occurs globally and in many places I’ve never been and in societies that I’m not, and never will be, party to. (or is it too?)

Lastly, I can’t leave this brief review without mentioning Obinze – for I can’t remember the last time I came across such a thoughtful, sensitive, compassionate and attractive man (in literature obviously). He is honourable and perfect without being ‘too good’ or making you wish you could escape his company. In a funny way – he gave security to the story.

bye

by John Ford, A production by Cheek by Jowl
At the Oxford Playhouse

(Imaged sourced http://www.facebook.com/cheekbyjowl)

Encouraged by the title and having been impressed by this particular theatre company before (see Ubu Roi), we three headed down to the Playhouse last evening for a little early week entertainment.

Excitedly, especially as this was Tuesday, the venue was packed and ‘alive’. (But then I wonder how often you’d go to a show with only the Dead…). Anyway, with hindsight I can testify, a huge treat was in store.

The performance was pure Drama and perfect Theatre.

And as cautioned by the posters in the foyer, the show included violence, nudity, and a note recommending that it might not be appropriate for those under 16 – so big smiles from the 13 year old next to me.

The delivery of this ‘Strong’ tale couldn’t have been bettered.

For it is a mix of fiery talent; great dance moves; challenging themes; sweaty bodies; some disturbing – though perfectly executed violence; and bold choices by a master Director.

I attended with no prior knowledge of the content, which I feel benefited my enjoyment, as I wasn’t prejudiced or influenced, rather open to take it all in, so I shan’t be providing any spoilers (or sweeteners) here.

Instead note, this is a play which is best met performed, not read. So give it considerable thought. I cannot recommend it enough.

It is showing until 24 May in Oxford and for further details and dates please visit

www.cheekbyjowl.com

Carrying on with my current love interest – Berlin – it seems only natural to provide you with a little ‘getting around on a bicycle’ perspective from one whom occasionally dabbles in such, back on the home front.

Background – I like cycling, but not exerting, so I’m not one to deliver on speed, however can happily peddle for hours if it is flat and not raining. So, Berlin, Sunday 4 May was ideal for an outing.

Team Family hired bikes from our hotel (Casa Camper Berlin – top location, feel, service and view from breakfast) and chose to take in several sites between us (in Mitte) and Charlottenburg (the location of the Helmut Newton Museum), and it couldn’t have been easier, safer, more satisfying and interesting.

• Easier – you can hire bikes pretty much anywhere and get going

Look these are just like the ones in London (though not blue) (Image sourced smutpedaller.blogspot.com)

• Safer – I know this will shock…drivers are actually thoughtful and patient…and cycle paths are everywhere

• More satisfying – I could take in everything, feeling like I was exercising, had control over how long I wished to stop in places and after listening to my 13 year grumble about never getting to go on his computer, hear him squeal with delight as we weaved our way through the Tiergarten.

See how happy and satisfied this lot looks (Image sourced visitberlin.de)

• Interesting – you can cycle down the Unter den Linden, through the Brandenburg Gate, park up for a while to visit the Holocaust Memorial and walk a little over to Hilter’s Bunker; get back on – do some circle work at Potsdamer Platz ; see some bunnies eating the grass – in the Tiergarten not on the street; two wheel along the canal; and see a cathedral that looks like a broken tooth as you gracefully alight in Charlottenburg – all before lunch. Then…back route it through the Tiergarten, past a never have I experienced it before, beautiful Bell Tower, playing Bells (yes really); over to the Reichstag; through Alexanderplatz just for fun; stop at the Galleria to purchase Falke hosiery for mummy; and back in time for afternoon Cocktails…Nice.

The Tiergarten – you can see why the 13 year old was cheery (Imaged sourced berlin.de)

And I thought Oxford was a city for cyclists.

And a little map which covers the area we explored (image sourced overt.org)

Heidi…Heidi Leyton and her sidekick Daisy.

Now I know that my mathematics isn’t exactly right, however it would be reckless not to mention Daisy, as together these two can provide the lucky tour participant with interest, information, an insiders’ perspective, heaps of great things to look at, and an abundance of happy walking, memories and deep longing to relocate to Berlin.

Hooray that great fortune is my friend – and I, along with the two others in Team Family, had Heidi (and Daisy) to ourselves for Saturday afternoon, 3 May.

Following my initial email approach and vague idea of wishing to focus a little on WW2 + Jewish History and spying some Graffiti – our plans were loose – however left in the expert hands of Heidi, we found ourselves learning, enjoying and seeing parts of this fabulous city, which left to our own devices we would have surely missed.

Our expedition through small pockets of the city commenced in Mitte, a really exciting and rich – in history, great galleries and people watching – area of former East Berlin. The weather was great and my shoes were sensible for a change, so we weren’t held back from investigating the courtyards, buildings and museums/memorials sprinkled around the zone.

(photo from inside the Museum Blindenwerkstatt Otto Weidt – image sourced from museum site)

Heidi really knows her stuff and more importantly, knows how to be engaging, respectful and tailor her knowledge accordingly. Her skills you can’t learn – it’s as if she was born with the gift. Not only was the Young Chap enthralled from kick-off, I wanted her to be my new best friend by end of play.

Also the emotional ride was interesting and actually more intense than I thought it would be – particularly as we watched the film footage at the Berlin Wall Memorial Visitors Centre, spent time at the Memorial site and visited the Museum Blindenwerkstatt Otto Weidt.

(Photo of the Berlin Wall Memorial – image sourced from destinationeurope.net)

We headed off to Kreuzberg later in the afternoon to see a little more of the city and play spy the graffiti and track down some sheep…some painted sheep. Happily also, we came across my new favourite type – yarnbombing or guerrilla knitting – whatever the name, it’s smile producing and gets you creating secret plans of your own.

Sadly, all wonderful things come to an end, particularly as it was a five hour tour.

I couldn’t/can’t recommend Heidi enough and if you’d like to know about her head to: www.heidileyton.com

Being fairly partial to the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists it seemed only wise to investigate the third floor exhibition space at the Ashmolean, last Thursday.

I picked Thursday specifically as I knew that this day (and Tuesdays), from 3.30pm until 4.15pm, any ticket holder can freely join an ‘introduction’ to the exhibition, thereby maximising one’s understanding and getting a little backstory.

Our guide was not only beautifully dressed; beautiful; French; and a fountain of knowledge – she also managed to bring my limited education in ‘history of art’ (of this period), up to a comfortable post Digestif discussion standard. Well, maybe…

So the works on show come from the impressive private collection of Henry and Rose Pearlman. The former being a successful North American businessman (and I assume the latter – his wife). He clearly had a good eye; taste; an open mind; and spent his money wisely – for there’s no denying it, Cézanne and the Moderns doesn’t hold back on impress factor. From watercolours, through wood carvings to an ‘Ahh’ making bronze bust, there’s something to appeal to all.

In addition, the painters he collected – you’d be hard pushed to find a more experimental, talented and eclectic bunch. Imagine standing just four inches from a Van Gogh – you can. Or being impressed by Toulouse-Lautrec’s gift with painting/creating light – you can.

So, not sure yet…this glorious Cézanne creation is there and a million times better two feet in front of your lucky eyes.

Aside from the above, there were several more works I was particularly fond of:

• An angular and warrior like limestone ‘Head’ by Amedeo Mogigliani (1910-11)
• Cézanne’s ‘Three Pears’ (1888-90)
• And possibly my very very favourite – Wilhelm Lehmbruck’s ‘Bust of a Woman’ (1910)

Ohh, and there’s no surprise that this one was purchased in postcard format and now resides on my kitchen wall.

The exhibition runs until 22 June 2014

To learn more about the fabulous Pearlman collection head to www.pearlmancollection.org

And please note all images sourced there as well.