Trouville then and now

There is an interesting exhibition on at the moment close to us in Trouville, at the Villa Montebello, a small museum housed in an old villa built in 1865 by the Comtesse de Montebello. After a chequered past, it was acquired by the city of Trouville and became a museum in 1972.

The exhibition is mainly devoted to the artist Charles Mozin (1806-1862), who was a Parisian but built a house and settled in Trouville in 1939.

He was one of many artists who left Paris (a polluted and stinking, overpopulated city) to seek cleaner skies and beautiful landscapes in Normandy. Why Normandy, and why Trouville? Well, it was close to Paris, a mere 4 days by the diligence (stagecoach) and there were beautiful beaches, wonderful light and fresh fish.

In the early 19th century, sea bathing became fashionable, starting in Dieppe, which had old ties with England where this activity began. And then Trouville was discovered, at the time a small, simple fishing village.

Early painting by Eugène Isabey

Around 1820, artists such as Eugène Isabey, Charles Mozin, Camille Corot and Richard Parkes Bonnington came to Normandy to paint and then exposed their works in grand Parisian exhibitions. People saw, were enchanted and came to visit. Rapid development followed and Trouville became a busy port as well as a station balnéaire. In the painting below, by Pierre Duval le Camus, one can see the juxtaposition of the old way of life with the new: a group of fishermen’s wives and their children are gathered on the beach, in a pause of their daily activities. It was a rough life—while the men were at sea, the women, aided by the children as soon as they were old enough, gathered mussels and sprats, mended nets, sold the fish their men caught in the market. They were hardworking and poor.

Pierre Duval le Camus, Trouville, Les Bains de Mer, 1851

Behind them to the right, one can glimpse bathers—people of a higher social class and better means, the tourists of the day.

Detail

On the left, the buildings are not fishermen’s cottages, but vacation homes. The one on the right still exists, albeit in a very different setting.

Charles Mozin was the artist who best captured the progress of this development, about which he had very mixed feelings. He shunned society and much preferred the old, simple way of life. He was a very clever draughtsman, who captured details in his many sketchbooks and then went back to his studio in Paris to work on the large paintings.

In the background between the ships one can see the lights of the market, still busy at nightfall

A beautiful view of the Touque by moonlight. La Touque is the river which flows to the sea at Trouville. Ships sailed up the Touque to the port.

Above is an example of Mozin’s accurate and very detailed sketches.

Two ships entering the port

This huge painting shows how much sea traffic there was, and the difficulty of entering the port, especially in rough seas. The vessel on the left is a passenger ship, which sailed regularly from Le Havre and was the main way of reaching Trouville. On the right a fishing boat is trying to manoeuvre in the narrow passage. Sometimes there were accidents, and there is a story of a ship which, encountering strong winds and currents, floundered and sank, drowning everyone on board, despite people rushing to the rescue in small boats. Only a dog survived and, when it was fished out of the sea, it was found to have in its mouth its master’s jacket.

In this painting, also by Mozin, one can see the new bridge connecting Trouville with what was going to become Deauville. At the time the land was marshy, and the Trouvillais used to ford the river before the bridge was built to graze their cattle on the près salés (salt meadows). The small building on the right was a customs house.

Below is a photo of the view from the Villa Montebello

And finally, a view of Trouville today, at low tide. A lovely place, well worth visiting.

Happy Easter everyone!

This year, everyone celebrates Easter together.

Due to complicated calculations concerning the Vernal Equinox, the split between the Roman and Byzantine Empires and their different calendars and the division of the Christian Church into Orthodox and Catholic (look it up, people, I can’t be bothered to explain further) usually there are two Easters, one for each church. Sometimes, though, they coincide—and this year they do (the last time was in 2017).

Therefore I am in the happy position to wish you all a Happy Easter, wether you smash red eggs or wait for the Easter Bunny. Enjoy your lamb on the spit, your Hot Cross buns, your Easter Bonnet Parade (is that still a thing?), your egg hunts and your indigestion. Or anything else in your local or family traditions.

A result of the new tariffs

And the winner is…

Orbital, the book about six astronauts in space I recently reviewed, has won the Booker Prize.

I admit I have not read the other books on the short list—or rather, I am in the process of reading Rachel Kusk’s Creation Lake. I like her writing, and loved The Mars Room, but I’m finding this one slow going. Some of the others are tempting, though, and I will get to them eventually.

Photo: bdnews24.com

Nevertheless, even though I lack comparison, I think this book is a very worthy winner, being at once original, lovely to read and beautiful in every way.

Samantha Harvey nearly gave up writing the book at some point, because she felt like an impostor, never having been in space. But then she took it up again, during the pandemic, and watched hours and hours of streaming video from the International Space Station while writing. Thus she could observe Earth from space, actually completing whole orbits and describing what she saw. The result is nothing short of miraculous.

In her acceptance speech, Harvey said she wanted to dedicate the prize “to everybody who does speak for and not against the Earth; for and not against the dignity of other humans, other life; and all the humans who speak for and call for and work for peace.”

Harvey, 49, is the author of four previous novels, including “The Wilderness,” about a man with Alzheimer’s, which was longlisted for the 2009 Booker Prize, and 2018’s “The Western Wind,” about the mysterious death of a village’s wealthiest resident in medieval England. She also wrote “The Shapeless Unease: A Year of Not Sleeping,” a 2020 memoir about her struggles with insomnia.I’m tempted to try one or two.

Of course, a few people thought it a good idea to publish articles panning Orbital in comparison to the other books on the short list. Although of course everyone is entitled to their opinion—and all art appreciation is subjective—I thought it was in poor taste to do so today. It smacks of sour grapes. Let the woman enjoy her day of glory—they are hard enough to come by. So, congratulations, Samantha Harvey!

Going into winter

It is not cold yet, but the days are drawing short, and when I take the puppy out at 7.30 a.m. I wear a jacket and sometimes a woolly hat. The leaves are turning and some days there is mist on the ground.

We do get some brilliand days, though, and the beach is magic.

There are still flowers in the garden, and a few tomatoes. The crab apples are red, and the apples are ripening also.

The summer went by too fast, as usual, and the weather was not very inspiring—however, we did not get heatwaves, or a water shortage, or forest fires, as in Greece or other southern countries.

The puppy likes crab apples

We are fortunate to live near Deauville, which is a beautiful and lively town, with plenty going on at all times. Racing, polo, film festivals, exhibitions and more. We have lately acquired a cultutal center called Les Franciscaines, the conversion of an old nunnery, and there is always something on.

Back in March they put on an exhibition by the abstract artist Zao Wou Ki. It was a real treat to be able to see some of his paintings within 15’ of my house. I’ve written about him before. Here: https://athensletters.com/2018/09/25/awed-by-the-abstract/)

One of the highlights of the summer was an exquisite concert by the Japanese neoclassical composer Koki Nakano. I did not know what to expect, having never heard of him before, and in fact had never heard anything like it before—immersive soundscapes somehow combined with melody. In the La Chappelle, the small theatre placed in the former nunnery’s chapel, a grand piano was the only thing on the stage, its lid open and adorned with electronic devices. It was flanked by an electric keyboard.

Nakano played his own compositions, a mixture of electric and acoustic piano and I can honestly say one was more beautiful that the previous. The concert was called Oceanic Feeling. Sometimes he was accompanied by a dancer, the wonderful Tess Voelker from Chicago, since he is fascinatedby the relation between music and the human body.

This is the clip he had made of his music

The simplicity of the setup, the magical lighting, the elegant musician himself who addressed the audience between the pieces and even spoke in French, all made for a truly memorable evening.

Tokei(Tokyo) by Akira Yamagoshi. An aerial view with enchanting details. Zoom in to enjoy.

At the same time the centre put on an exhibition relating how the impressionists were inspired by Japanese art, which contained a few treasures.

Micro Fuji by Tiger Tateishi (1941-1998)

To finish off, sadly we could not see the northern lights which appeared over Europe. I have seen them once, in Iceland, and they were mostly green and yellow, whereas these were quite pink. So for your enjoyment I am posting a wonderful photograph by Deborah M. Zajak on her lovely blog Circadian Reflections (https://circadianreflections.com/2024/10/13/something-for-sunday-northern-lights/#respond) I urge you to take a look, she posts great photographs of birds and other stuff.

Farewell, Maggie

I will not attempt to describe Dame Maggie Smith’s life or acheivements—following her death at 89, the papers and online sites are full of detailed biographies and tributes and I am sure everyone who is interested has read them.

This is just a short personal tribute to a great actress—someone who has provided me with unforgettable moments of delight throughout my life.

A lovely 70’s portrait (Wikipedia)

Growing up and living for a large part of my life in Greece, I was very fortunate to have been able to witness some of her best performances in the theatre, live. Thanks to my parents’ love of the theatre and a few well-timed trips to London, I saw her in various plays, and most memorably in Lettuce and Lovage. I remember tears of laughter running down my face as, playing a stately-home tour guide who embellishes her descriptions with fictions to keep the visitors’ attention, she became increasingly more demented. Also memorable was The Importance of being Ernest, where her Lady Bracknell was so haughty that her nose was parallel to the ceiling as she delivered another scathing put-down to some hapless person.

Of course I have watched her in most of her films, too. Her wit, her cool delivery, her tart and sophisticated personality were unique. It is a great privilege to have given so much pleasure to so many people during your lifetime, and she was proof that it is possible not to become invisible and diminished as one ages. On the contrary, her fame increased at the end (despite all her success, up to a certain point she managed to go about town unrecognised). Of course, not everyone has her talent.

Let me conclude with the deliciously quirky line which just sprung to my mind, asked with opened eyes a a note of genuine astonishment, ‘What is a weekend?’

The Booker Prize Long List

Like every rabid bookworm in the land I too await the long list for the Booker Prize with anticipation each year. Not that I put much faith in prizes: in all creative things they are very subjective, and often the prize gets awarded to the book each person on the panel of judges dislikes least—just so they can all agree.

© Tom Pilston for Booker Prize Foundation

Also I cannot say that usually I read every book on the long list, or even on the short list—some do not appeal at all. Often some are books I have read before, such as Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies, which I adored. However, there are books I discovered because they were on the list, which I might not have picked otherwise—some I abandon half way through (I stopped long ago making myself read to the bitter end a book I dislike), some I love, such as Bernardine Evaristo’s Girl, Woman, Other.

This year the list looks tempting—it is varied and seems to contain meaty stories. I have read none of these books, and perhaps will not read them all, but I will certainly try some.

Here is the Booker’s dozen of thirteen novels, to tempt you:

-Colin Barrett, Wild Houses. A debut novel from a top Irish short story writer, it is a sort of crime tale set in small-town Ireland.

-Rita Bullwinkle’s Headshot follows the teenage girls taking part in a boxing tournament in Nevada. Spills and thrills, physical and mental combat.

-Percival Everett, James. One of the favourites to win, it retells the story of Jim, the runaway slave in Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn.

-Samantha Harvey’s Orbital is about six astronauts in an International Space Station.

-Rachel Kushner, Creation Lake. A freelance spy infiltrates a commune of eco-activists in France.

-Hisham Matar, My friends. The story of three Libyan dissidents exiled in Britain.

-Claire Messud, This Strange Eventful History. A Franco-Algerian family’s wandering through eight decades of war and peace.

-Anne Michaels, Held. Short snapshots of various characters bedevilled by war and tyranny, it is the most experimental work on the list.

-Tommy Orange, Wandering Stars. It explores the consequences of a shooting at a Native American powwow.

-Sarah Perry, Enlightenment. A baroque story about group of Strict Baptists in 1990s Essex.

-Richard Powers, Playground. Floating cities threaten to overwhelm a Polynesian island already ravaged by mining.

-Yael van der Wouden, The Safekeep. A debut novel about a young woman falling in love with her brother’s girlfriend explores the callous treatment of the Jews returning to the Netherlands after the war.

-Charlotte Wood, Stone Yard Devotional. A quiet Australian novel about a woman taking refuge among eccentric nuns at a Catholic retreat in the outback.

I consider it a list full of original, complex work, set in different cultures—there is something there for everybody. The authors are American, Irish, British, there is a Duch writer and a Native American—true diversity. And it is mostly free of household names. The chair of this year’s judges, artist and author Edmund de Waal, said : “These are not books ‘about issues’: they are works of fiction that inhabit ideas by making us care deeply about people and their predicaments.”

Enjoy.

Has anyone read ‘Kairos’?

The novel by Jenny Erpenbeck, Kairos, has won the International Booker Prize, which is awarded annually ‘for the finest single work of fiction from around the world which has been translated into English and published in the UK and/or Ireland.’As such she shares the prize with Michael Hoffman, her translator, who has done a brilliant job. She is the first German novelist and he the first male translator to win the award.

The novel is a romance of sorts, between a 19-year-old student and a 50-something , married, semi-famous professor and novelist. Set mostly in East Berlin in the late 1980s, the affair tracks the history of the country before and during the collapse of the Berlin Wall.

When I started reading the book, I was dazzled by the immediacy, vividness and general brilliance of the writing. I would have given the book a five star plus. The quality of the prose, set in the present tense, continues to the end, and one can taste life in East Berlin at that time in fascinating detail. This background, which is intimately interwoven with the characters’ lives, is a major part of the book’s attraction. Erpenbeck has said that the fall of the Berlin Wall and the turbulence that followed was what led her to become a writer, because she lost the system that she knew and had grown up in.

However, as I went on reading I became less enthused because I found both the main characters singularly unappealing. She, Katharina, is a prize idiot, obsessed by a man who abuses her, physically and mentally, to the point of surrendering all independence and even free thought. And he, Hans, is simply awful: full of his own importance, an unfaithful husband, terrible father, a manipulative and abusive lover. I was also annoyed that Katharina’s family, with whom she is close, never lift a finger to dissuade her from this destructive relationship.

I will not describe the book in more detail because multiple reviews can be found online, by people more qualified than me. It makes for uneasy reading at times—one critic describes it as a ‘wallow’. Others enthuse.

Nevertheless, I think Erpenbeck deserved her win, although I have not read all the other books on the shortlist. In this age when everything has to be politically correct to the point of blandness, and anyone expressing an unpopular opinion is trolled into oblivion, it is refreshing to read somebody who is not out to please—especially since the quality of her writing is outstanding. It is a novel that will provoke discussion and debate. Also, I loved watching the video of her acceptance speech.

It is an unsettling book, so I was interested in people’s reaction to it.

Thoughts?

Happy Easter, Greek friends!

Καλό Πάσχα🐣

I’m sure by the time this is published, everyone will be groaning under a surfeit of lamb, mageiritsa, manouri, red eggs, and wine. And tsoureki.

If any new readers are interested in Greek Easter customs, I have written about them in earlier posts, which you can find here : https://athensletters.com/?s=Easter

And here: https://athensletters.com/2016/05/01/celebrating-greek-easter/

The headlines are surreal

Does anyone agree that reading the papers has become a surreal experience? I find I only scroll through the headlines, skimming diagonally through a couple of pieces, before going on to the fringe articles such as book, film and art reviews, travel and some opinion essays.

Irrelevant but hopefully cheering collage

Otherwise one has to toil through:

The minutiae of the trial of an ex (and perhaps, horrifyingly, future) president of the USA v. a porn star

The doings of an American Governor who shot her dog and her goat (I thought one called the vet in such cases, but she obviously thinks she’s in the Far West.)

A number of horrifying and endless wars, now fought in large part with drones. Fatigue has set in and no one can bear to read more awful stories of grief and atrocities.

Tales of Chinese spying and manipulation of elections in the West. Are these true or conspiracy theories?

The details of the Met Gala, which every year becomes more unreal, with fortunes being spent on mostly hideous and ungainly outfits.

The doings of Taylor Swift. OK, I’m probably too old to appreciate her, and she is certainly talented and very shrewd, but…is it literature? They’re actually, believe it or not, teaching a class about her at Harvard…

Teenage girls who are confronted with deepfake pornographic images of themselves posted on social media. The only relief here is that it’s getting so wide spread that in a while nobody will believe them or care anymore.

Regarding the above-mentioned book reviews, memoirs which can be very interesting are also getting weirder. They used to be accounts of exceptional lives full of adventures and tribulations, now many are about navel-gazing, real or imagined psychological trauma and ‘polyamorous’ relationships (see ‘Open’ by Rachel Kranz—not on my TBR list, I hasten to say.)

Inane studies about—for example—how to prolong your life by eating ten avocadoes a day or other theories. Who funds these and why should one believe them?

Prince Harry and Megan. Is there anyone who still cares?

OK, whinge over. I rest my case.