Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta Goethe. Mostrar todas as mensagens
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta Goethe. Mostrar todas as mensagens

sexta-feira, novembro 10, 2017

Spies Catching Spies: "A Legacy of Spies" by John Le Carré



The most impressive aspect is the self-examination, described late in the story. Was all the effort poured into Cold War intelligence work worth it? Did it stop wars? Did we do it because they did? Or was it a case of politicians wanting to think they are "one up" on the other fellow? And his European outlook is so refreshing. Reminds me of the heyday of Robert Maxwell's newspaper, The European". Maxwell's story is somehow akin to the world of Mr. Smiley, but will probably never be told.

What's all this guff about him not being an 'artist' and 'at its best, operates at a high literary level?' 

When is the poor man to be rid of snarky comments? Possibly the best policy is to have a journalist review Le Carré, rather than the rat pack of other, less successful, writers. Le Carré has earned the right to be gloriously appreciated without the endlessly snide bollocks debate about genre writing.

Is there any clue as the year in which this book is set? Because if it is set in 2017 (or thereabouts) George Smiley would be well over 100.

It is clear from Le Carré's earliest novels that Smiley had left "his unimpressive school" in the 1920s and been recruited, while at his "unimpressive Oxford College" by the "Overseas Committee for Academic Research" on "a sweet July morning in 1928." As such I'd be expecting George to be celebrating his 110th birthday about now. Perhaps Peter Guillam, who must be well into his 80s, merely imagined his old colleague - the way old people have conversations with the dearly departed dead, because they seem more real than those who are left alive. Le Carré employs two layers of flashback to get us into the appropriate time period. Peter Guillam, talking to us in the present day, recounts events of a few years previously, when he found himself belatedly held responsible for the events of many years earlier still. These rather awkward temporal logistics are necessary because several characters from the past make an appearance as their latter-day selves - Jim Prideaux, Millie McCraig, Smiley himself. In order for them to be still alive and well at the time Peter Guillam finds himself hauled in for questioning about that bit of unpleasantness in Berlin, they have to be older, but not too old. Smiley himself would indeed be 100-odd years old if the entire story was set in the here and now. So, we flashback...and back again.

At times it's hard for the reader to keep track of exactly which layer of flashback the story currently inhabits - but hey, this is John le Carré. "Hard to keep track" is pretty much his signature style. The only temporal anomaly which struck me is when we meet Jim Prideaux (spoiler alert, look away now), who is still living in his caravan in the school grounds, still with his Alvis parked alongside. Several years on from his arrival, now a senior member of staff and part-owner of the school itself, you'd think he would have got himself an agreeable flat in the main building by then.

Having just finished it, I was startled - like many readers - at how flat the writing is compared to Le Carre's usual lyrical exuberance and eccentric dialogue. Then I began to realise that we are inhabiting the shrivelled soul of Peter Guillam, pummelled to dust by his experience of the Circus and particularly the operation behind the events of the “Spy Who Came in From the Cold”. Guillam is not given to poetry.

I did not like it as much as I wanted to. I am usually very sure that I like Le Carré, but so much of Legacy is told in the dry, deliberately unemotional language of old case reports, and the emotionally defensive recollections of Guillam, that it's like reading a different author entirely. An author who doesn't like Smiley and Guillam very much and doesn't see why they should be let off the hook for the awful things they did. And perhaps that's the point. From the geek's perspective, Le Carré has taken the thread that runs through the Karla trilogy and beyond - that of the hunt for the Circus mole and the aftermath of his treachery, and spun it backwards to draw the earlier books into that tapestry. Hence we see the operations described there in a new light: that of the growing suspicions of Smiley and Control that an insider is betraying Circus secrets and field agents to Moscow. So that's good fun. One for the completist perhaps? You would certainly need to have read “Call for the Dead”, “The Spy Who Came In from The Cold”, and “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy” to get full value out of this legacy.

Flashes of it are there, where appropriate. Alec Leamas is his angry, whiskey-fuelled self. Tulip, the agent from Leamas' East German spy ring is well drawn. The little cameos of Haydon, Mendel, Smiley, Mundt, Connie and other old friends are pitch perfect. But Guillam's narrative voice is not the authorial voice you hear in most Le Carré novels: it's Guillam's own voice, that of a spy who has had the emotional stuffing knocked out of him and buried it where he doesn't have to look at it.
The point of the story is that he's being forced to confront a period in his life he's been trying to forget ever since.

Despite mostly working in a genre that relies on suspense and mystery I find Len Deighton the more re-readable as it is more character/atmosphere based storytelling. Smiley is an enigma while Palmer/Samson are flesh and blood, it is a treat to stand over Bernd's shoulder as he navigates a world out to get him. I came to Deighton late but it seems he never gets the credit or recognition of Le Carré, the literati seem to dismiss him and maybe Deighton does lack Le Carré's world view politics agenda, but I think, in every other area, he more than matches Le Carré and should be more widely celebrated.

I re-read the whole Bernie Samson series a few years ago. I had not realised until re-reading them how much of a comedy of manners the whole thing is, not to be taken anything like as seriously as Le Carre's interest in sin and redemption in a world with no gods except the heartless flags and ideologies of the establishment. I think Le Carré is a great writer. Have read all his books and some of them many times to savour his style, his love of certain human traits (mostly disreputable), how he creates character out of light and shade. But Le Carré is, as he once said about himself: “I’m writing about a closed world that has a complete disconnect from cause and effect in the real world”. It has its own rules, fantasies, notions of truth, honour, deception (I’m paraphrasing here).”

It is actually completely irrelevant.

It's about spies catching spies, not about spies discovering what President Putin is in the mind of (for example). Because no spy not even in the real world has ever achieved that about Putin or any Russian leader you care to name. The CIA in all its history never had one agent inside the Kremlin. Plenty inside the KGB as the KGB had inside MI6/CIA. You see my point?

As for 'Legacy' the opening pages are just not Le Carré. Endless amounts of guff about Peter G. (I already kind of knew) and was desperate to skip. Yes, I knew it was called the Circus, yes I knew old Pete was once a young Turk, Smiley? Yes, yes, oh, get on with it! And what's it about? Some old file in the Registry now under the microscope. Le Carre loves this plot device, uses it many times to great effect. But it's wearing a bit thin these days.

'Bit of a cliché'? That's Le Carré's problem. His characters have become cliché and passé. They belong to another age. But publishers, authors and agents, have a code - never speak ill of each other. Only in private among friends, in that closed world of publishing, can you give an honest opinion. It read like a (useful) clarification of plot holes and oddities in the originals, rather than a full stand-alone contemporary novel. I actually quite liked the modern lawsuit idea, though I do think its execution was a tad clunky, both within the SIS world, and in those extraneous characters. All that said, I read it in one extended sitting - I'm an addict!

It's possible that Le Carre, like Rushdie and a few others, suffers from bad editing. That is, no editor prepared to say this won't do. . . you got it wrong here. . . tone this down a bit. Or if there is such a one, perhaps they're ignored. It's a problem with authors who sell in the hundreds of thousands, no matter what. They have to be kept sweet at all costs. But can't wait to read this next.

I like Le Carre's style, because he conveys the emotional intimacies of a given moment exactly as one would expect them to be, in the context of the story. Sometimes, he does lead us down the garden path with a neat twist, but it all "fits". Le Carre has a rare gift and for "realism" in a fiction novel set in the Cold War period, Len Deighton is another that conveys the underlying menace of the time.

As to the ending, I thought Le Carre (and maybe even Smiley!) was being a little disingenuous. Smiley's entire career has been defined by a love not of "Europe", still less of the UK - but by a love of Germany as the epi-centre of western civilization, hacked and corrupted in turn by the Nazis, the Russians and the Americans. Le Carre's entire output seems to me to be a paean to the land of Goethe, which he regards as what "Europe" really should be....... That interpretation echoes in our times a little differently than our reviewer tells.

terça-feira, abril 05, 2016

Dass nur im Grab ich Frieden finden kann: "Poesias" by Manuel Maria Barbosa du Bocage


Published 1943.

Many eons ago, I was delighted with a book selling girl behind one of the counters in a book pavilion at the Lisbon Book Fair. Because of that I wrote a poem that I gave to her. Distant times those were. To tell you the truth, the girl did not deserve that poem, and the poem itself was not that great, well, the usual. In any case, the thing went down like this: in order to have a natter with her, I bought from her this same Bocage edition that I now got from a friend. Who would have thought that many years later I’d hold this same book in my hands? As soon as I picked it up, memories came flooding back. I still remember almost being taken from a thief as I perused books at her bookstand, touching them without really looking at them while at the same I kept looking at her eyes that could be seen from any place in the fair, as a “model like you’re…but oh sadness!”.


I can now hear some of my learned friends saying, after having read the above paragraph, “you expose yourself too much!” What they really wanted to say is, “I admire your courage.” Since I started publishing stuff on my blog, those are the kind of comments I hear more often. Who cares about what I write? No one. I’ve always believed that one shouldn’t remove the personal from the texts. That’s why I said, somewhere else, that what I write is (almost) always embedded in my own personal history. That’s what makes what I write intelligible to me.

And just because I can, below an attempt at translating the untranslatable into German of one of my favourite poems by Bocage:


“Camões, großer Camões, wie ähnlich
Ist mein Geschick dem deinen, wenn man sie vergleicht!
Der gleiche Grund ließ uns vom Tejo weggehn
Und frevelhaft dem Meer-Giganten trotzen.

Wie du am Ganges-Strome dich befandest,
Befind ich mich im Elend einer grauenhaften Not.
Ich sehne mich wie du umsonst nach eitlen Freuden
Und weine so wie du, sehnsüchtig Liebender.

Gleich dir vom harten Schicksal hintergangen,
Erflehe ich vom Himmel meinen Tod, in der Gewissheit,
Dass nur im Grab ich Frieden finden kann.

Mein Vorbild bist du, doch oh Jammer
Mag ich dir auch an bösem Schicksal gleichen,


Ich gleich dir nicht an Gaben der Natur.”


This is one of the reasons why I think German is not only the most beautiful language I learned, but it’s also the love of my life. Much more than Portuguese and English. The German language makes me organize things in my head in a way very different when compared with the Latin and English languages. There’s an enormous cognitive benefit by installing this “tool” in our brains. When installed, the doors of consciousness that open up are tremendous. I’m not only talking about the possibility of reading Rilke, Celan, Hölderlin, Goethe, Kafka in the original. The point is that what these writers put on paper are thoughts inseparable from the language itself in which they were written. No one, I repeat no one, having read Rilke in Portuguese or English has any idea what this represents in terms of the insurmountable geniality of Kafka, Celan and of course Rilke (my favourite trio of German writers). Some translations are simply ludicrous. Lately I've been on a winning streak...



Do we want to live without the real dimension of what these Men left to the world? It’s never too late. Trust me. Learn German. And now, my beloved readers are thinking, "But he just read a book of Poetry of one the most distinguished Portuguese Poets, but he's still haranguing us on the fact that we all should learn German! How can that be??" Well my friends, you should have been paying close attention to what I've been writing for almost 10 years on this very same blog, i.e., for those of you who are still with me after all are these years...

NB: "Dass nur im Grab ich Frieden finden kann." This is "Hamlet" tapping into Bocage...I won't bother explaining. Go read your "Hamlet" please.

sábado, dezembro 12, 2015

To Read What Hasn’t Been Written: "Ler o Que Não Foi Escrito" by João Barrento, Walter Benjamin, Paul Celan


Published 2005.

“Ler o Que Não Foi Escrito - Conversa inacabada entre Walter Benjamin e Paul Celan” (To Read What Hasn’t Been Written – Unfinished conversation between Walter Benjamin and Paul Celan)

I’ve always been interested in the “mechanics” of translation. To be interested in the inner workings of translation is to be interested in reading Walter Benjamin, which I’ve been doing for a long time. Once again the influence of one of my German professors: Winfried Scheulen.

The Portuguese German studies owes a lot to Prof. João Barrento, namely his monumental translations from German into Portuguese of poets like Goethe, Musil, Celan, and Benjamin, to name just a few of the great German thinkers that we’re able to read in Portuguese because of his efforts. German translation is synonym with the name “Barrento”. I still remember one of his notes regarding the difficulty in translating German texts with many relative clauses…the problem lies in the fact that Portuguese does not allow the construction of nested clauses one after the other, as it’s pretty common in German, at least in literary texts.

This book comprises two of my favourite authors: Walter Benjamin and Paul Celan. I’ve written a lot about Celan, but it’s the first time I’m dealing with Benjamin. This is neither the time nor the place for that. My dealings with Benjamin will remain unsaid for the time being. What interests me here is the way Barrento was able to “verbalize” a philosophical conversation between these two, namely to put on paper something that never took place. If this conversation were to have taken place, who would have be better equipped to eavesdrop into these ponderings than Barrento himself?

I won't dwell on it. I’ll try instead to elevate our mental awareness by just giving you two excerpts from the book, wherein these two passages will give us a nice philosophical and philological sum-up by way of Walter Benjamin, Paul Celan, and João Barrento:

Se quisermos olhar a História como um texto, então aplicar-se-á a ela o que um autor recente diz dos textos literários: em ambos o passado depositou imagens comparáveis àquelas que foram fixadas numa chapa sensível à luz […] O método histórico é, assim, filológico, e assenta sobre o livro da vida. Hofmannsthal fala de ‘ler o que não foi escrito’. O leitor que assim lê é o verdadeiro historiador.(Page 59)

Walter Benjamin, in “Sobre o Conceito da História/On the Concept of History”

My own attempt at translating this: "If we want to look at History as a text, then we’ll be able to apply to it what a recent author says about literary texts: in both, the past has deposited images comparable to those that were fixated on a light-sensitised plate […] The historical method is thus philological and rests upon the book of life. Hofmannsthal talks about ‘reading what has not been written’. The reader who reads like this is the real historian."

And now Paul Celan:

“Não te escrevas
entre os mundos,
ergue-te contra
a variedade  de sentidos,
Confia no rasto das lágrimas
e aprende a viver.”

(Schreib dich nicht
Zwischen die Welten,
Komm auf gegen
Der Bedeutungen Vielfalt,
Vertrau der Tränenspur
Und lerne leben.”

Paul Celan, in “a Morte É Uma Flor/Death Is a Flower” (translation by João Barrento)

Now in English, the abovementioned Celan’s poem, in a translation of mine, for the benefit of my English-speaking friends:

“Don’t write yourself
In between worlds,
Rise yourself against
the wide range of meanings,
Rely upon the Trail of Tears
And learn to live”



segunda-feira, agosto 03, 2015

Lourdes Castro's Exhibition: "Todos os Livros"/"All the Books" - Part 3 ("Light and Shadow")




Lourdes Castro's Exhibition: "Todos os Livros" ("All The Books") - Part 1 ("Avessos/Reverse Sides")

Lourdes Castro's Exhibition: "Todos os Livros"/"All the Books" - Part 2 ("Deutsch Hefte/German Notebooks/Cadernos de Alemão")



























Lourdes Castro's Exhibition: "Todos os Livros"/"All the Books" - Part 2 ("Deutsch Hefte/German Notebooks/Cadernos de Alemão")




"Lourdes Castro was born on the island of Madeira and in the 30s went to the German School there. From 1958 onwards she studied and lived in Germany.
In Berlin, she devised a "German Correspondence Course" as an introduction to the language for Manuel Zimbro, who was in Paris.
It has been reproduced and published as an artist's book by Documenta Publishing House.
The original was exhibited at the Goethe-Institute in Lisbon, during its 50th anniversary celebrations."

The book I made a reference to in the first part of the post is called "Lourdes Castro para Manuel Zimbro: Deutsch Hefte"/"Lourdes Castro to Manuel Zimbro: German Notebooks", and it's something to behold in awe (This made me rethink what love truly means... Marvellous!)




(Cadernos de Alemão/German Notebooks, 1973.
Handwriting in German; collages; leaves packed in a blue dossier)

















Lourdes Castro's Exhibition: "Todos os Livros" ("All The Books") - Part 1 ("Avessos/Reverse Sides")



I was there in 2012 at the Goethe-Institute, and now in 2015 at Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian. 
What a marvel!

Lourdes Castro has begun to enjoy something of a renaissance, in Portugal and abroad. As far I know, the one at the Goethe-Institute and now this one at Gulbenkian, were the only two full-scale retrospectives of her work. What I chance it was to see them both! This time Manuel Zimbro's work was not on display (Lourdes Castro’s collaborator and life partner;"he was the Light and I was the Shadow", as Lourdes Castro used to say). As with all great artists, Lourdes Castro's work is not derivative, i.e., it's highly personal. After seeing her work for the first time in 2012, I always think of Lourdes Castro's work as an Unchangeable that is immortalized in the matter.

Lourdes Castro was born on the island of Madeira and in the 30s went to the German School there. From 1958 onwards she studied and lived in Germany.
In Berlin, she devised a "German Correspondence Course" as an introduction to the language for Manuel Zimbro, who was in Paris.
It has been reproduced and published as an artist's book by Documenta Publishing House.
The original was exhibited at the Goethe-Institute in Lisbon, during its 50th anniversary celebrations.

(Die auf Madeira geborene Künstlerin Lourdes Castro besuchte in den 1930er Jahren die Deutsche Schule in Funchal. Ab 1958 lebte sie für einige Jahre in Deutschland. Um Manuel Zimbro, der in Paris lebte, die deutsche Sprache näher zu bringen, entwarf sie in Berlin einen "Deutschkurs per Korrespondenz", ein Künstlerbuch, das der Verlag Documenta als Faksimile-Kunstbuch herausgibt.
Das Original war zur Feier des 50. Gerbuststags des Goethe-Institute in Lissabon am 01.Oktober 2012 ausgestellt.)



(Avessos Encadernados/Bounded Reverse Sides: Kagé, 1971
Translucid fluo rose plexiglass front cover and white Plexiglas back cover, 5 white plexiglas leaves embroidered with the word "shadow" in Japanese in pink wollen wire)



(Avessos encadernados/Bounded Reverse Sides: Sombra, Paris 1971.
Translucid plexiglas front cover, red plexiglas back cover, 13 cardboard leaves, red perle embroidery thread.)



(Avessos encadeados/Bounded Up Reverse Sides: Os Lusíadas, 1971.
Orange plexiglas front and back covers, 5 translucid plexiglas leaves embroidery plastic wire)




(Avessos encadeados/Bounded Up Reverse Sides: Goethe, 1971.
Light yellow pleiglas front cover and bright yellow plexiglas back cover, 13 white cardboard brown perle embroidery thread)



(left: Laying shadow of Umberto with the books "Beds"
right: Sitting shadow of Zorica reading "Little red book")


(Artistic Reasoning for the two figures above: Umberto and Zorica)



(Branche de Cerisier: printemps [with Manuel Zimbro], 1981)