The Hard Life

There's much to admire in the sheer energy of Zola's Germinal, its powerful sense of the moral necessity of recording in sometimes overwhelming detail the bleakness of the lives of most of its benighted characters. And, once the narrative picks up with the story of the miners' strike, there's something genuinely gripping in the unfolding of the fates of its many characters. Though I'm not holding out much in the way of hope for them at the halfway point of the novel.

It's taken me quite some time to get towards the end of Book IV because, for all the energy of its telling, the grimness of the subject matter doesn't make for an easy read. I feel I need to be at full attention as I go since anything less than complete absorption will be an injustice to the writer and his suffering creations.

But that's not to say there's nothing positive about the text. The simple fact of their survival engenders respect for even the least of the inhabitants of Village Two Hundred and Forty. And there are striking moments of genuine pleasure in life scattered in the novel that often beguile, even in the most desperate circumstances. Etienne's discovery of the semi-feral Jeanlin's hideaway down the abandoned mineshaft won't be easily forgotten by this reader. It has something of the quality of myth about it.

Sort Of Stopping

Arrived here in the very early hours of the morning having managed to nod off somewhat in the car. Then enjoyed a few hours of sleep, though awoken before the time for the prayer at dawn by the fierce air-conditioning in our bedroom here. And then managed a good hour and a half back in the land of nod before getting up and ready to attend the wedding.

So I'm really not too sure why I felt so deeply wrecked once we got back here after eating & drinking & chatting and the usual wedding stuff and completely crashed out for a couple more hours. But I'm glad I did!

Not Stopping

The highlight of our weekend will be a wedding in Melaka. Nice to have happy family business to look forward to. But it means we'll need to get there tonight, so life continues non-stop. 

Not So Shocking

One match report I read on this morning's England game claimed that DR Congo scored a first half 'shock goal'. If this means that no one would have expected the goal to be scored it's complete nonsense and seems a relic of the old idea that somehow European or South American sides have some kind of entitlement to win World Cup games. They don't. The only thing shocking about the goal was the amount of room surrendered by the England back four. Cipenga had acres of space and, even then, Pickford should have got to the shot.

Having said that, I can't join in with some of the ridiculous criticism of Tuchel's merry men. They created plenty of chances against a well-organised team & have a decent chance against Mexico, assuming they up their game. Though I reckon Mexico go in as obvious favourites, given home support and their excellent form.

And I can't say I would seriously mind if England go out since it's great to see supposedly 'lesser' teams playing so well. It wouldn't surprise me to see Mexico go all the way to the final. The real disappointment so far as far as I'm concerned has been Japan going out, as I really fancied them and was hoping an 'outsider' nation wins the thing this year. Mind you, it would be difficult to quarrel with either France or Argentina getting their name on the trophy yet again since they've both been playing in the style which deserves that outcome.

Anyway, Azteca here we come. 

A Thing Of Beauty

Am beginning to regret not spending a few bucks on getting full coverage of the World Cup given the quality of some of the games so far (judging from the highlights I've seen, that is.) France, Mexico, Argentina, to name but three, all looking the real deal so far. Will be surprised if the 3 Lions get past Mexico, assuming they do the business against Congo (which, to be honest, I'm not assuming.)

That French midfield remind me of Brazil in their pomp back in 1970. And that's not something I was expecting to be able to say again in my lifetime. 

Football - bloody hell, eh!

Things Newborn

Very much reminded just now of one of my favourite lines from The Winter's Tale. The Old Shepherd observing literally and thematically: Now bless thyself: thou met'st with things dying, I with things newborn. When I first read this many, many years ago the inherent contrast seemed to me strange in its way. Now I've reached an age when dying & being born seem quite familiar as intertwined aspects of this thing we call life, but the line has not lost its simple magic.

And it sprang forcefully to mind when Noi confirmed that, after quite a long labour, Fafa was delivered of a baby girl today. Just typing that makes me happy. Noi showed me a picture of the child (unbelievably cute) and I almost cried. But didn't. Instead smiled broadly with a sort of silly happiness. Isn't (new) life wonderful?

Home At Last

Came back just now from a late-evening duty. Opened the door to find the apartment delightfully suffused with the smell of porridge. It really felt like home.

(And if you've never heard the mighty Dan bring it home, here's how it's done.)

Living In Hope

I hardly feel involved in the World Cup at all. Just following the results and checking the highlights, but haven't watched anything live. Happy to see England top their group and progress to the knock-out stages, and relieved they're not meeting Senegal. (Had a bad feeling about the prospect.) But also have a feeling that Congo might just surprise.

Actually the really entertaining thing these days is reading the comments below the match reports. It's astonishing how sure the various writers are of their opinions. Helps in understanding how Gareth Southgate was seen as some kind of failure despite his consistent success in creating squads that genuinely competed at the highest levels.

Heat

I've been reading reports of scorching temperatures in Europe in the last few days, especially concerning the UK and France. Not sure how climate change denialists deal with such regular reports of records being broken. I know that I'd be more than happy to support any politician who genuinely tried to deliver net zero emissions or any initiative that sought to do away with our reliance on plastics. It all looks very urgent to me.

In the meantime it's a matter of just getting on with what can be done even when temperatures soar. Today it's 31C here and feels hotter, I think due to the overwhelming humidity. So the idea of cleaning our bookshelves wasn't such an attractive one. But I managed to get on with it, at the cost of a very wet t-shirt, once I decided enough was enough. Actually, the enough wasn't enough and I'm all set to get ferociously sweaty again tomorrow.

In Sickness

We were intending to eat dinner at Aziz's place on Tuesday when we were in Alor Gajah. On arrival in the early evening we were a bit surprised and disappointed to find his eatery closed with no sign of life at all. And shortly after that we got a text that Aziz wasn't well, with a worrying reference to a heart attack.

Much to our relief we found out next day that the reference to a heart problem was misleading and that the pain Aziz had experienced and which had sent him to the doctor was due to a kidney stone. An operation was necessary, but nothing life-threatening was involved, thank goodness. However, he couldn't be operated on immediately as he was suffering from jaundice and needed further monitoring.

Which is why we found ourselves in the main hospital in Melaka yesterday afternoon, visiting the sick patient before making our way along the North-South Highway. It was good to see Aziz looking pretty well and not complaining about being in pain, but I can't imagine that his surroundings were conducive to striving for full health. It's an old hospital and, despite some heroic efforts to make it look cheerful, it has a sense that the wear and tear of time is now deeply ingrained in its fabric. I wouldn't have wanted to spend a night there, and I'm not the sort who's overly fastidious about these things.

Funnily enough the visit helped put the journey back into perspective. Better on the road and feeling well than being stuck in a hospital bed waiting to get back to the joys of just being normal.