the wisdom of zorba

Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis explores the tension between a life of action and a life of thought. Whilst the books narrator might suggest that the unexamined life is not worth living, Zorba would counter that the unlived life is not worth examining.


Here is some wisdom of Zorba.

"I tell you, boss, everything that happens in this world is unjust, unjust, unjust. I won't be party to it! I, Zorba, the worm, the slug! Why must the young die and the old wrecks go on living? Why do little children die? I had a boy once - Dimitri he was called - and I lost him when he was three years old. Well ... I shall never, never forgive God for that, do you hear? I tell you, the day I die, if He has the cheek to appear in front of me, and if He is really and truly a God, He'll be ashamed! Yes, yes, He'll be ashamed to show himself to Zorba, the slug!"

... and more ...

"The unfailing rhythms of the seasons, the ever-turning wheel of life, the four facets of the earth which are lit in turn by the sun, the passing of life - all of these filled me once more with a feeling of oppression. Once more there sounded within me, together with the cranes' cry, the terrible warning that there is only one life for all men, that there is no other and that all that can be enjoyed must be enjoyed here. In eternity no other chance will be given us.
A mind hearing this pitiless warning - a warning which, at the same time, is so compassionate - would decide to conquer it weakness and meanness, its laziness and vain hopes and cling with all its power to every second which flies away for ever."

It is not the easiest book to read and tends to meander in places but perhaps Kazantzakis was trying to echo the pace of Greek life. However, for those of you with reflective souls I would encourage you to read this classic.

For more information ...
Zorba - wikipedia
Zorba - the movie

mommy in pieces

(portrait of the artist's mother - juan gris, 1912)

One day whilst playing with my wife and child we began to pretend our belly buttons were lost. Into my mind jumped the first line below and I was prompted to write a melodic, unconventional and image forming poem. I imagine this in a book of absurd rhymes for children.


1 My mommy lost her belly button boating in Bruges one year,
2 The Belgians found it for her in the old cathedral there.
3 After that in Amsterdam she misplaced her elbow,
4 A Dutch milkmaid discovered it, down where tulips grow.
5 Pushing onto Paris she couldn't find her chin
6 But under the Eiffel Tower she found it there again.
7 Meandering in Munich her hips they went astray,
8 A polite German policeman retrieved them the next day.

9 She wandered all through Europe for that summer long,
10 Losing bodyparts and wondering what was wrong.
11 Then one night in London town she met a fellow traveller,
12 He had lost most of himself and yet was filled with laughter.
13 She asked why do you laugh so much when most of you is gone?
14 He said, with each lost piece of me I find where I belong.
15 From that moment, mommy wandered with bright knowing eyes,
16 Losing little bits of her but growing young and wise.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to suggest improvements and point out what you think is wrong with the above 'work in progress'.

Help!


For more information ...
juan gris

endgame - samuel beckett

CLOV (fixed gaze, tonelessly):

Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished.
(Pause.)
Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap.
(Pause.)
I can't be punished any more.
(Pause.)
I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me.
(Pause.)
Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.
(He remains a moment motionless, then goes out. He comes back immediately, goes to window right, takes up the ladder and carries it out. Pause. Hamm stirs. He yawns under the handkerchief. He removes the handkerchief from his face. Very red face. Glasses with black lenses.)

HAMM:

Me -
(he yawns)
- to play.
(He takes off his glasses, wipes his eyes, his face, the glasses, puts them on again, folds the handkerchief and puts it back neatly in the breast pocket of his dressing gown. He clears his throat, joins the tips of his fingers.)
Can there be misery -
(he yawns)
- loftier than mine? No doubt. Formerly. But now?
(Pause.)
My father?
(Pause.)
My mother?
(Pause.)
My... dog?
(Pause.)
Oh I am willing to believe they suffer as much as such creatures can suffer. But does that mean their sufferings equal mine? No doubt.
(Pause.)
No, all is a-
(he yawns)
-bsolute,
(proudly)
the bigger a man is the fuller he is.
(Pause. Gloomily.)
And the emptier.
(He sniffs.)
Clov!
(Pause.)
No, alone.
(Pause.)
What dreams! Those forests!
(Pause.)
Enough, it's time it ended, in the shelter, too.
(Pause.)
And yet I hesitate, I hesitate to... to end. Yes, there it is, it's time it ended and yet I hesitate to-—
(He yawns.)
-to end.
(Yawns.)
God, I'm tired, I'd be better off in bed.
(He whistles. Enter Clov immediately. He halts beside the chair.)
You pollute the air!
(Pause.)
Get me ready, I'm going to bed.

.....

I have always found Beckett humorous. The bleak and minimal nature of the work only serves to heighten the ludicrous nature of the linguistic see-sawing in which his characters engage. It is this verbal rumination that ultimately leads to an understanding of the ritualistic nature of our small talk.

I prefer Endgame over the more famous, Waiting for Godot, and find in it more meaning and humour. The opening exchange, above, between Clov and Hamm is a taste of what the full play contains and I encourage people to read/see Beckett's plays. He is accessible and universal, there are no obtruse literary allusions. All the reader/theatre goer needs to do is listen. Listen real carefully and then you will begin to hear the rhythms emerge.

Next year this play will be 50 years old and yet I know of no other play that is so thouroughly modern.

For more information ...
samuel beckett
endgame

varietal variety

Curious to understand how many varietals I sampled in the last year, I reviewed my wine diary and came up with the incomplete list below.

Certainly it reflects exploration beyond the grapes that typically make it into our glasses but vitis vinifera* holds more room for exploration as is evidenced by wikipedia's also incomplete but more exhaustive list.


white

ugni blanc
colombard
viognier
marsanne
parellada,
macabeo
xarel-lo
chardonnay
monastrell
prosecco
riesling
sauvignon blanc
semillion
grechetto
jaquerre
chenin blanc
gewurtztraminer/traminer
pinot gris
gros mansey?


red

carinena
garnacha/garnaga/grenache
trebbianno
tempranillo
shiraz/syrah
mouverde
cinsault
nebbiolo
pinot noir
pinot meunier
malbec
gamay
cabernet sauvignon
cabernet franc
merlot
aragones
casletao
triacadeira

For more information ...
*vitis vinifera - the main grape species used in wine making
grape varieties