Making things

     

I am working on things. The library gets in the way. 9-5 drudgery which drags on as I tell students where the photocopy rooms are and how to return books correctly. I spend time meant to be working doodling ideas on post-it's, which are then ferried home and drawn up on proper paper to I can take a step back and have a look at them. It all feels so insular, isolated though. Perhaps I actually need to verbalise these ideas instead of just writing them down. But these sketches are going to turn into actual physical things: I am going to build my first piece of self designed furniture, print my first fabric design, I have some grandiose plans for something I have named 'The Rocky Road' doorstop. (you'll get it when you see it - it's a pun).

I type this lying in bed with a throat that feels a grazed knee, unable to do a hell of a lot except read books and eat grapes. But it feels good to know that I have a vague idea of what I want to do with my life. I want to make things.

Stills from the weekend

Film stills from 'Suna no Onna (The Woman in the Sand) /  newly acquired record rack (made in Sweden!) / pie / Kiss Kiss by Roald Dahl

The weekends become increasingly more important as winter inches nearer, and the nights grow even longer, dusk now falling some time between 4 and 4:30 pm. By the time I leave work during the week, it has already been dark for about an hour, skewing one's perception of time. So I try to take advantage of my weekends, the only time I can go out and wander around Malmö without turning on my bike headlights. 

Saturdays are the best days for doing things. On Sundays nearly everything is closed, or at least feels that way. Sundays are good days for cycles to the beach, which is a rather soothing place when it is cold and grey. Last weekend when I saw an old man swimming - it was probably 6 degrees at best. I am sure he has been swimming in November for many years. Old people are very resilient, I find. 

Yesterday was a day of small achievements for me. I saw a fantastic film at Cinemateket, Suna no Onna  (The Woman in the Dunes) as part of the Japanese New Wave series they are showing this season. Though visually captivating, I was also able to actively engage myself in the narrative as my Swedish comprehension appears to have reached the level where I can easily follow Swedish subtitles. A small coup as I continue to attempt to carve out a life for myself here.

After the film I challenged myself to make a meat pie, including the short crust pastry shell. My culinary skills are pretty hit and miss (though somewhat improving) and I began to think I had bitten off more than I could chew. (this would literally, be the case when it came time to consume the pie.) I conveyed my fears to a pie maker of some repute, who told me it would be a success and that I was "excellent at making mince". The pie, I must admit, turned out better than expected. I even went back for seconds. 

Sunday I went to a second hand store, ostensibly hunting for a  gift for someone and naturally coming away with a few for myself instead, coming away with a near perfect condition record rack in handsome navy to house my slowly expanding collection of singles, and a lucky find of a collection of short stories by Roald Dahl, the blurb on the back cover proclaiming "If your taste is for the macabre, the sick, the outrageous, the unexpected, the horrifying - Roald Dahl will give you orgiastic delight. If not, you are going to miss one of the most sophisticated collections of short stories in print."

I look forward to some sophisticated orgiastic delights  from Roald Dahl, starting with my lunch break at work tomorrow.

Deckare

 

 Last week my friend Kah Bee posted a link to the post Cocktaildags: Vintage Swedish Books Covers - a collection of Swedish editions of popular crime stories.

My two personal favourites -

Raymond Chandler, Den stora sömnen (Original title: The Big Sleep), cover by Martin Gavler, printed 1963

John Bingham, Mord i månsken (Original title: Marion), cover by Per Åhlin, printed 1965

And from my own collection - 

Raymond Chandler, Mord, Min Älskling (Murder my darling) (Original title: Farewell, My Lovely), cover by Olle Frankzén, printed 1985

As my Swedish vocabulary slowly but surely increases, I have succumbed to the temptation of purchasing a few of my favourite 'deckare' (crime novels) in Swedish, in the hope that one day I will have become bilingual enough to make it further than the first chapter before I throw my hands in the air in despair and frustration. I recently stumbled across the amazing 1980's Swedish edition of 'Farewell, My Lovely' (Mord, Min Älskling) by Raymond Chandler in a second hand shop around the corner from my house for 10kr.

Judging a book by it's cover is surely one of the best things one can do on such occasions.

Cotton Anniversary

Portrait after having lived for one year in Malmö, Sweden. A small milestone!

Efter tolv månader i Sverige, har jag nu:

- mastered enough of the Swedish language to articulate my thoughts to Swedish friends and acquaintances in both sober and less sober states of mind, attempted to read my first Agatha Christie in Swedish, written short pieces of text about ABBA, Twin Peaks, and my old flat in Auckland, followed American TV shows by reading Swedish subtitles, watched an Ingmar Bergman film without subtitles, however the extent of my comprehension of that film is highly debatable.

- become a fully fledged cyclist about town, no other mode of transport can compare to the bicycle, especially after one has learnt the necessary cycle etiquette and rules, thus avoiding any awkward cycle faux pas or potentially hazardous accidents.

- been offered full time employment as a library assistant at Malmö Högskolas Bibliotek, the huge success after months of job coaching, awkward phone calls, applications I didn't understand and seemingly pointless business networking. Good things, do apparently, take time. Was told I had 'made a great impression and had really good references', so those must be the secrets to employment.

- not cut my hair for 12 months. It is at present the longest it has been in my life. The goal is to leave it that way at least until I can successfully explain to a Swedish hairdresser what I actually want in a hair style.

- travelled to more cities than I ever have before. Copenhagen, London, Glasgow, Berlin so far and counting. With the incoming funds from the above mentioned employment, hopefully this year the list will continue to expand.

- read an impressive number of  classic books, taking advantage of Malmö public library's excellent English fiction section. Titles include Rebecca, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Steppenwolf, The Remains of the Day, Pan, Nineteen Eighty-Four, the short stories of Truman Capote, all of Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe novels. I hope this reading trend will continue, with high literature in English and low brow pocket detective fiction in Swedish.

- experienced my first northern hemisphere winter, and in turn seen my first snow. A truly magical experience, and now, after many snowfalls, the wonder of it still gets me in a bit of a tither and I feel the need to uselessly announce the fact that snow is falling. These thoughts and feelings are documented in a short text about my first impressions of snow.

A spanner in the works

The door to my mind / forlorn fishing nets / dual 'Persona' /Naval Star gazing

It feels like lately I have been swamped by a deluge of swedish vocabulary, verb tenses and other such thrilling components which make up the untamable beast known as svenska. It is not as bad as it sounds, in fact, I thoroughly enjoy learning languages; nothing is so satisfying as drunkenly rambling in another language and people being able to understand you, as my friends and I discovered on saturday night. While my previous party trick may have been exclaiming 'How did I get so drunk?' in swedish, I am now able to give a detailed description of this inevitable demise.
Last night I prepared for my final swedish test by watching Ingmar Bergman's Smultronstället (Wild Strawberries) without subtitles. Judging by todays effort in my listening comprehension, it was perhaps not the most suitable method of practice, but in any respects the most engrossing. I am satisfied by the fact that I understood enough to figure out the plot lines.


The above film still is not from Smultronstället but another Bergman film, Persona, featuring the same actresses, Bibi Andersson and Ingrid Thulin. I have always liked the director who has a stable of trusted actors whose names become synonymous with the directors own.

I am also now completely intrigued by star charts, islands and fishing nets, to add to the ever growing list of 'things that inspire me that I really should do something about'. These include birds, faux bois, whittling, and such like. A collection of "things" laid out like in the positions of stars / faux bois embroidered stockings / balancing bird Alexander Calder-esque mobiles / whittled bath feet / tunnels of fishing net / on an island?

It all makes me feel rather intrepid. I definitely have more exploring to do in the coming warmer climes.
Spend my winter thinking, and my summer doing.

The mind boggles.

Merlin & Voodoo

Lägenheten hade en balkong och vi gillade att sitta där och dricka öl på kvällen medan vi lyssnade på skivor och pratade med varandra. Ibland, brukade våra grannars katter besöka oss på balkongen. De hette Merlin och Voodoo. Typiska namn för hippies katter, tyckte jag.
Alex och jag brukade ofta handla möbler till vår lägenhet från second-hand butiker. Jag kommer ihåg när Alex köpte en soffa med klädsel som var täckt med ett kattmönster. Jag tror att den fortfarande är i vardagsrummet.

The apartment had a balcony and we liked to sit there and drink beer in the evening while we listened to records and talked with each other. Sometimes the neighbour's cats used to visit us on the balcony. Their names were Merlin and Voodoo. Typical names for hippie cats, I thought.
Alex and I used to often buy furniture for our apartment from second hand shops. I remember when Alex bought a couch with upholstery that was covered in a cat pattern. I believe it is still in the living room.

(A brief excerpt from a short piece of writing for my Swedish class, about my old apartment in Auckland. It is extremely satisfying knowing that I can describe furniture with cats on it, and offer my opinion on interesting choices in feline names. I feel like I should be compiling a volume of these texts as 'A Brief History of Florence and her family, a collection of thoughts in Swedish. Or something to a similar effect.)

Bright mirage

via

December 13th is marked in Sweden as Santa Lucia, a day when girls are dressed in white robes with red sashes and one is selected to lead the Lucia procession bearing a candleabra with lit candles on top of her long, flowing locks.
Boys also dress in white and wear tall conical hats cover in large gold stars and are known as 'stjärn-gossar' - star boys.

Sankta Lucia, ljusklara hägring / Santa Lucia, bright mirage


Natten går tunga fjät / The night walks with heavy steps


Swedish lyrics of the traditional Neopolitan song Santa Lucia.

Lamb to the Slaughter

My task in today's Swedish class was a close reading of the Swedish translation of Roald Dahl's darkly comedic short story 'Lamb to the Slaughter' (1953), known in Swedish as 'Mysteriet med det Försvunna Mordvapnet' (The Mystery of the Vanished Murder Weapon).

The tale concerns a wife who bludgeons her policeman husband to death with a frozen leg of lamb, puts the lamb in the oven, establishes an alibi going to the grocery store to buy vegetables to accompany her roast, and proceeds to serve the murder weapon to the investigating officers.

After a fruitless search, the policemen bandy about possible locations of the murder weapon, while waiting to be served their dinner.

"It's probably right under our very noses."





Lamb to the Slaughter was adapted for television twice, first in 1958 as part of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, directed by the master of suspense himself, and starring Barbara Bel Geddes (Midge in Vertigo).

Another adaptation was included in Tales of the Unexpected, in 1979. Tales of the Unexpected was a collection of tales based on the short stories of Roald Dahl.

Skriv om din familj

Granny receives her new ride

Min far kommer från en ganska stor familj också. Han är ett av sju barn, och han bodde i ett gammalt hus i Wellingtons höjder. 1964 vann min farmor en tävling som heter 'Mini for Mum' och hon fick en ny bil.
Hon kunde passa in sju barn och en livlig hund i bilen.


The family get ready for a day at the beach

An excerpt from a piece of text I wrote for Swedish class. I now study Swedish every weekday morning and spend my time fabricating family histories to read out in class. The tale mentioned above might even be true.
It is nice knowing I can say "she could fit seven children and a lively dog in the car" in another language.

Personal Preference

How to learn Swedish verbs:

There is an easier and more effective and entertaining way of learning the verb forms, though: By reading Swedish texts, newspaper articles, comic strips, and novels written in an everyday language (translations of Agatha Christie crime novels or love-stories by Barbara Cartland or whatever you personally prefer), you will soon meet all the common verbs - they are actually not that many - in a meaningful context, you will see their function in different sentences, how they are used in idiomatic phrases, and you will not have to spend time on the numerous verb forms that theoretically exist but are rarely used. The first pages of such a book in Swedish may naturally take some time to tackle, but it will not be long before you will be able to recognize and understand an amazingly large number of words. With a basic knowledge of the verb system in Swedish it will be even easier.

Now to begin my collection of Agatha Christie crime novels in Swedish for educational purposes.