The Spanish Christmas Experience

This holiday season abroad has been interesting.  I've seen the way a country with a majority of atheists and lapsed Catholics celebrates a holiday resplendent with religious imagery by happily embracing it.

I've also been able to apply an outsider's view to the fanaticism that surrounds holiday celebrations here and at home.  Americans spend way, way more money than they should while listening to revolting music; in Spain people stuff themselves silly with cakes and burly, grown barmen play with figurines...

Enter: El Belén de Bodonal de la Sierra.  

This is not the cute crèche that I've previously written about, cobbled together by children's expeditions into the woods.  It is a construction which occupies the interior of the tiny town's theater, painstakingly assembled by the owner and employees of a local bar.  It's a display of all of the events leading up to and immediately following the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. This exposition of ALL-THAT-IS-CHRISTMAS is a miniature circus (complete with moving parts!) on display for anyone who wishes to drive out to the middle of nowhere.  

Yes, night and day, thunderstorms, and wind are all depicted. 

Yes, there is a miniature cave with hand-made stalactites and stalagmites.

Yes, there is a river with two waterfalls, a full-sized footbridge, and live fish.

Ridiculous, but in a spirit-of-the-season kind of way.

The Holy Family

A working fountain.

A typical night in Bethlehem...

The shoulder (right) cropped in for scale. Taken from the footbridge.

In addition to this display of largesse, one still has presents to worry about.  That's all up to these guys...

I'm almost tempted to just let the image speak for itself...

Traditionally: no Santa, but you've got three pretty sweet kings to hit up for presents.  And yes, there's always a "token black guy".  (Apparently Spain is still cool with the whole "Sambo" thing. :/ )

Side note: Hollywood has pretty much cornered the Christmas movie market.  Everything on TV is American, and is dubbed.  This is the reason some of the kiddies here have started getting a little visit from St. Nick in addition to the Magi above.  Jerks.

Now I'm just keeping it classy as I count down the days to X-mas.  I'm going to go enjoy some turrón and piononos and buy some tickets for El Gordo!

A Book about New Orleans and some Jazz

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

I will not bother rating it because I believe it will speak for itself.  I said in the title of this post that this book is about New Orleans.  It's a bit of a misnomer.  A Confederacy of Dunces is about my old city and more.  This is a story of intricately woven madness which takes place in one of the most appropriate cities in the world for a book of this nature: New Orleans, LA.  It reeks of disturbing problems associated with the modern Southern identity along with the black hilarity such circumstances afford.
The [anti]hero of the novel, Ignatius J. Reilly is painfully antiquated, repulsive, and fantastic. Reilly is the hub of the novel, surrounded by a menagerie of characters whom Toole shockingly manages to fit into this cosmic mayhem.  At times I could feel myself cringing at the awkwardness of the dialogue and situations portrayed anywhere Reilly set one of his swollen, boot-clad feet, though at others I found myself laughing aloud on the verge of tears.  What a delightful mixture. A reader can really revel in this oddball's even odder story.  
Parallel stories and side plots weave in and out of the narrative, making readers guess what kind of wild goose chase they're being led on.  What's best: it makes sense.  All of it.  The characters' lives meet in an astounding crescendo that gives this story not only its cohesion, but its magic.
The actual language of the novel is another aspect of its beauty.  The strange and uniquely Southern Louisiana accent is duplicated in a way that makes me crave King Cake.  Even a character's cold becomes a laughable element of the story when duplicated in Toole's way.  What's special about the narration is that the narrator has no need to explain, "He thought" or "she wondered".  This formality is bypassed when the narration incorporates the rhetoric particular to each character.  Readers jump immediately into the minds of characters, like Jones's musings about "that mother in the green cap" or Reilly's feelings that anyone who offends his sense of propriety "should be lashed".  And this adoption of rhetoric progresses as characters become more familiar to the reader, drawing a person into the story even more.  Genius.   
In the end, a profound sense of justice is displayed.  Each character gets what he or she deserves.  (Again, a Southern novel.)  Well, maybe I should restate that--each character gets what you as a reader want them to get, maybe not what they deserve.  You really can't begrudge the ending bestowed upon "Your Working Boy"...

Many thanks to my photographer.

And as promised: some jazz to accompany the setting.

Same Girl by Youn Sun Nah                                    The surprise of 12647 unexpected gifts!
A very unique style of music in which the artist actually uses her voice as an instrumental element, not only singing, but seemingly accompanying herself with her vocals and lyrics.  She creates some of the most haunting song covers I have ever encountered.  It's not truly minimalism, but there is a sense of negative space that is evoked with the simplicity and tempo of the music.  Not what I was expecting at all.  And just in time for the Christmas season, check out:  Youn Sun Nah's cover of "Favorite Things" on You Tube 

Lars Danielsson's   Tarantella                                83 authentic Mexican cheese enchiladas
I'm nowhere nearly sophisticated enough to comment on most jazz, but I think this album isn't the kind that delivers to only the intellectual music elitists.  It is what is right about jazz.  Recurring, yet beautifully improvised themes and an exploration of the creativity of the artist as well as the imagination of the listener.  A beautiful warmth and peace emanates from the tracks.  You can visit the artist's website here: http://www.larsdanielsson.com/html/frame.html 

Cheers to good entertainment!

You are welcome in advance.

Bobino Live by George Moustaki     23143243525234 scoops of Nutella

Georges Moustaki is an artist I've recently become familiar with, and I'm very glad I did.  If his name throws you off a bit, it's not your fault.  He is a Frenchman of Greek ancestry who seems to use his interesting mixed heritage along with other "world sounds" to create music that is unlike anything I have ever heard.  And no: I don't speak French, but it's not necessary to understand his work.

The live album Bobino from 1970 uses an eclectic mix of instruments, themes, and sounds to create arguably one of the best and most dynamic French language albums of all time.  Each song has its own depth and atmosphere.  Some songs are rooted in American blues.  Some are light-hearted and tropical.  Some seem too elusive to even classify.  But all inspire the listener.

Although it's a beautiful album on CD, if you can get a hold of the vinyl record, treat yourself.  It is what music is supposed to be: an experience.

A tiny teaser: "Eden Blues" by Georges Moustaki on You Tube

You can also visit Georges Moustaki's official website.

Région Paca

I am currently writing from the South of France.  Mountains, sea, and sun.
I spent some time in Le Vieux-Port de Marseille Saturday, and walking in Les Préalpes yesterday.  The bread and cheese here are fantastic, and I really enjoyed my dinner of scallops; bouillabaisse, and a raspberry-chocolate tart by the Mediterranean waters.  

The little villages and cities here are decorated for Christmas with lights of course, and the traditional Southern European crèche (French) or Belén (Spanish).  Children from the community work together to gather materials from the woods around their houses, and in combination with clay figurines, recreate the landscapes of Bethlehem at the time of Jesus's birth.  Though I personally think the Belén created by the students at the primary school where I work is more impressive, this French Wikipedia page has some good examples from the same departement in France as the one I was in yesterday, Les Alpes de Haute Provence.

I am also taking some time to read a modern classic of American literature, A Confederacy of Dunces.  This book is everything that makes me love and miss the city of New Orleans.  It's also one of the few contemporary American works that has resonance with me.  Quirky, hilarious, and uniquely NOLA...