Described to me as a ‘less morbid Donne poem’, see below my brief reflection on this beautiful poem by eminent metaphysical poet John Donne. Donne, far from being co-pilot to Clarence Oveur in Airplane!, was an English writer and Anglican cleric, born in 1572. His poem Air and Angels is marvellous and beautiful, speaking to the quality of human love.
Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee,
Before I knew thy face or name;
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame
Angels affect us oft, and worshipp’d be;
Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
Some lovely glorious nothing I did see.
But since my soul, whose child love is,
Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do,
More subtle than the parent is
Love must not be, but take a body too;
And therefore what thou wert, and who,
I bid Love ask, and now
That it assume thy body, I allow,
And fix itself in thy lip, eye, and brow.
Whilst thus to ballast love I thought,
And so more steadily to have gone,
With wares which would sink admiration,
I saw I had love’s pinnace overfraught;
Ev’ry thy hair for love to work upon
Is much too much, some fitter must be sought;
For, nor in nothing, nor in things
Extreme, and scatt’ring bright, can love inhere;
Then, as an angel, face, and wings
Of air, not pure as it, yet pure, doth wear,
So thy love may be my love’s sphere;
Just such disparity
As is ‘twixt air and angels’ purity,
‘Twixt women’s love, and men’s, will ever be.
I believe from my research that Donne was inspired by the Italian poet Francesco Petrarch, who saw love in a different way, having had his love revealed to him on Good Friday to a woman, Laura de Sade, who could not love him back. The idealised this unattainable figure. The beauty he felt she represented, having been revealed to him on an important day in the Church’s calendar, went beyond the physical.
Petrarch was not selfishly obsessive, but a man instead who knew love in a different way. That God revealed Laura to him on Good Friday was everything. For him, Petrarch’s unrequited love for Laura was about directing his soul, “From her to you comes loving thought that leads, as long as you pursue, to highest good.” The Imaginative Conservative
Air and Angels takes this theme and applies it. The poem speaks of the difference between love in its temporal physical form and love in the eternal sense, a higher love which is carried in the soul beyond death. Love as we experience it is corporeal, it is bodily. Donne draws a distinction here between our experience of love and how angels appear to manifest themselves through air, which is the purest of the four elements. Indeed human love is derided in the poem, with Donne saying that he tried to visualise his past love and alighted on a ‘lovely glorious nothing’, which seems to say, in the absence of a woman to look at and objectify, the male gaze is impotent. This is carried on by his imagining her features (lip eye and brow). Man’s love for woman, here, is restricted to the physical and cannot assume the position of the soul’s love, which is above such things as the soul itself is not corporeal.
Resorting to the metaphorical usage of air and angels, the poem furnishes a conceptualisation of love cognisant of its empirical being, of the necessitude of shared mutuality between the man and the woman within its ambit. The soul, if extricated from the body, would be aloft the pleasure of corporeal love, which is very much rooted in desire, which has its own legitimacy, as it were.
Love then, must not come from earthly longing, nor from angels and heavenly things, but from somewhere in between. The poem argues that the combination or synthesis of man’s love (angel) and woman’s love (air) is needed for the success of both.
The air producing the angel is as impure as the latter. By analogy, the poet argues that the woman’s love is also as pure, or as independent as that of the man’s love, and it is rather a mutual transaction of the two that will diminish the space between man’s passion and women’s response
So thy love may be my love’s sphere;
Just such disparity
As is ‘twixt air and angels’ purity,
‘Twixt women’s love, and men’s, will ever be.
The final four lines leave the result of such synthesis unclear, perhaps intentionally.
I suppose it was about time I wrote about local Tamworth boy Julian Cope. Unbeknownst to my father, perhaps among the foremost Copey fans, I have been listening to Cope for some time in secret. Peggy Suicide is named after “a figure representing Mother Earth who appeared to Cope in a dream in the “loose fit” summer of 1990”. It speak of ecological and social collapse with a focus on creating moods through song, rather than an oppressive picture painted through a structured concept throughout the album. In my view he does so quite successfully. This is a double album of some length so I shall focus only on my three highlights and let you discover the might of this album for your good selves.
Peggy Suicide offered up songs about safe sex and AIDs, killing Margaret Thatcher, the wisdom of fighting the police, pollution and the “nascent” climate emergency, swimming with dolphins, drowning on hallucinogens, the Poll Tax, and a late night taproom band comprising a rat, a cat and a barman. All in all, a lot to take in. The Quietus
Safesurfer is a song about AIDS and its consequences, personally and in the public’s perception of the sufferer. Being written in the early 90s, one can imagine public perception of, and sympathy towards, AIDS sufferers was not yet at its current level. The turmoil felt by them is captured in a “long luxuriant guitar squall”, a powerful musical statement, perhaps akin to the musical foray in Heroin by The Velvet Underground.
Peggy Suicide is a global creation, I believe Julian Cope created it as God created the earth – in the beginning all was void and darkness imbued with silence were upon the face of the deep. And Julian Cope said, let there be lyrics: and there were lyrics. And Julian Cope said, let there be music: and there was music. And in mellow and rich Morrisonesque voice Julian Cope sang: “You seem lonely oh Avalon I feel evidence very strong. Beautiful love, now beautiful love where have you gone. You make my life oh so long, say, make believe it ain’t so wrong”. Review by user Vitabenco on Discogs
East Easy Rider is also one of my highlights. Described in the Quietus as creating a giddy heaviness, this track is toe tappingly catchy. The riff is so catchy that it will stay with you for the whole evening. It is ostensibly a song about riding around at leisure on a motorbike, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.
Picking out only some highlights does the album as a whole a disservice, but besides offering up an instant catchy pop single, “Beautiful Love,” Cope handles everything from the minimal moods of “Promised Land” and experimentation of “Western Front 1992 CE” to the frenetic “Hanging Out and Hung Up on the Line” and commanding “Drive, She Said.” An absolute, stone-cold rock classic, full stop. Allmusic
These newly sonorous tones catered for a preacher-style delivery and allowed deft switches in tone and meaning; ones that could be applied to the wider range of material, sonically and thematically. Cope’s addiction to falling on his arse and keeping the serious blues at bay suddenly came to his aid artistically, courtesy of some fantastic rants and strung out pleadings throughout the record. Two classic examples on Peggy Suicide are heard in the radiant love song to his wife Dorian, ‘The American Lite’, where Julian worries whether a new song “sounds like The Boss”. The Quietus
The American Lite is the penultimate track on the album. It is a love song to his wife. It is insistent, confusing, urgent and unnerving. The piano is quite cool, the Catholic overtones caught me off guard. Indeed if he has been to confession, not committed any mortal sins, and received his last Rites then drowned in Holy Water, I suppose he would not die, if you are of the Catholic persuasion. This feverish urgency sets up the last and final track of the album quite beautifully.
I’m gonna douse myself in holy water
Got the fever inside
I’m gonna drown myself in holy water
Got the fever, it won’t dieFact my love is stronger now
And my life is leaving jail
She’s got a love, it’s getting wide and bright
Concentric circles running to the American lite
Overall, no review I could write would do justice to this wonderful album. It is a whole fully fledged product. Peggy Suicide is well ahead of its time and largely flawless. Please do go listen to it and make room for dancing.
I know the much vaunted AOTM post is looming around the corner but I thought I cannot exclude this splendid work of art by Dele Sosimi. He was the band leader for Fela’s Egypt 80 and founded Positive Force with Fela. He also hosts a bi-monthly Afrobeat night in London, which I will have to attend.
There is Femi and Seun Kuti, of course, and the ever-dextrous iconic Tony Allen, who guests hither and yon. But nobody is keeping Fela’s Afrobeat flag flying as proudly as Dele Sosimi: composer, keyboard player, bandleader and wearer of some of the finest Abeti Aja dog-ear caps in the world. Songlines
From the first, this album is invigorating, the Fela sound distilled for modern times and recorded on excellent equipment. The second track Na My Turn is suffused with political disaffection, which one would hope would no longer be needed in 2015 but there you are. Dele was both eviscerating politicians in Nigeria and the UK General Election. a fascinating piece. Dele was born in Hackney, London, so his dual political nationality is fascinating.
Na My Turn is a very timely political statement, coming as it does at the time of the upcoming elections in both Dele’s ‘homeland’ of Nigeria, and prior to the forthcoming UK General Election in May. Echoing the feelings of many in both Africa and at home, Dele has grown tired of the same old leaders from the same old parties and makes a stand that it’s now his turn for president! His turn for Governor! And who wouldn’t vote for this man with his striking words and forceful backing from his mighty Afrobbeat Orchestra! Bandcamp
The relentless energy of the album follows through every track. The title track is suffused with combative fire. The drums are exquisite, the funk horns fill the soul and the keyboard synth is a direct call back to his beloved former bandmate Fela. This is a tribute to Fela and his mammoth contribution to Afropop as a genre while bringing Afropo into the present day.
I won’t say any more, but, as should be clear, I hope you will be able to enjoy this wonderful album for yourselves. This is likely going to be my most listened to album of the year (last year was Kraftwerk). It is exciting, new yet firmly rooted in my beloved Fela and brings one up at times when it is most needed.
Now, by the below description, one would not think about this movie primarily as a Catholic film, but perhaps it is worth talking about it a bit further. Referred to as Bruñuel’s most accessible film, we see the story of Severine (Deneuve) exploring herself through a serious of increasingly disturbing sexual experiences, much to the eventual chagrin of her husband (Sorel). There are spoilers ahead, of course.
While contentedly married to a doctor, Severine cannot bring herself to commit sexually. Instead, she indulges in wild erotic fantasies, leading her, unbeknownst to her husband, to become a prostitute in the afternoons.
In my research, it has been said that Bruñuel, born a Catholic, was highly critical of the Church while being unable to shake his ingrained convictions much in the same way that Ingmar Bergman was unable to shake his Protestant ones. Indeed in Bruñuel’s early films (Un Chien Andalou, and especially in L’Age D’Or) the church is criticised particularly as being an aged institution which gets in the way of one having perfectly natural and fun pre-marital sex. Belle De Jour seems, on first viewing, to be confirming the view he has espoused previously but ends up, in my view, supporting the Church’s position without perhaps the director being aware of it.
The principles and advantages of chastity are perhaps beyond the scope of this post (I try to keep them to 300 words but often fail!), however, it is clear that the director understands them. From the first, we see Severine distracted by dream sequences in which she explores her fantasies. There is an extraordinary opening scene where she is riding in a horse and carriage with haunting bells attached to the horses followed by a scene where Severine is tied to a tree and whipped by the carriage drivers. She then wakes up from this dream when her husband asks her what she was thinking about, she replies “I was thinking about us”. This is the first in a series of increasingly shocking dream sequences. Severine is aware that her thoughts are not helping her marriage and increasing the distance between her and her husband, but continues to have them throughout the film.
Severine being shown how to be a good employee
The main thrust of my argument was germinated in my mind when Severine is about to start working at the brothel. I say brothel but it more of a maison than an underground seedy club that one might more typically associate with the word. She looks down the stairs and has a flash back to being in church as a child, presumably during her first communion. She refuses the body of Christ to a much puzzled priest. Then she enters the brothel and things deteriorate from there for her. As she increases in proficiency at her work in the afternoons at the brothel, her dream sequences become increasingly more degrading. On one stage she is tied to a post and has mud flung at her by her husband and friend Piccoli (Henri Husson) while murmuring she loves her husband. This points to her deteriorating mental state, in my view on account of her employ. The multitudes of men, some in and one outside of the brothel, the degrading acts, colourful in their variety but never explicit, and the increasing distance that indulging in these fantasies puts between her and her husband puts Severine in a state of mental anguish.
The last half an hour of the film sees Severine meet her final lover, Marcel (Pierre Clémenti), whose casual encounter develops into an obsession on both sides. Severine’s husband confronts her while they are on a beach holiday. She keeps asking to go back to Paris and her husband begins to suspect that something is keeping her there. Though he does not make the obvious leap in logic until it is too late for him. The film culminates in the conclusion of Marcel’s obsession. Severine is confronted by Piccoli in the brothel and decides to quit forever, without telling Marcel. Marcel, an intuitive cocaine merchant and career criminal, has her followed home. He makes it into her apartment and threatens to wait for Severine’s husband and tell all. When Severine finally convinces him to leave, he picks up a picture of Severine’s husband and pronounces “voila l’obstacle”. He then goes down the stairs, shoots the husband, crippling him for life, and is subsequently killed himself by a Police officer who gives chase.
Severine looking after her husband
Why is this a Catholic tale? For me, on my second viewing of the film, Belle de Jour seems to warn against indulging one’s fantasies. It seems to showcase, at times dramatically, the possible outcomes of living an illicit life or by not investing the energy of sexual fantasies into one’s marriage. Indeed it seems to make the case for chastity, both in terms of self indulgence and taking multiple partners. Belle de Jour is stating in the clearest reading that indulging your fantasies will lead to the death of your marriage. While this is a comedic film, I don’t think even viewers without their red Catholic hat on can conclude that Belle did not come out better for her indulgences in the end. While Bruñuel seems to be criticising the Catholic church, he ends up quite supporting one of its core tenets, the call to be chaste, both inside and outside the marriage. The call to put the core of one’s sexual life in the other, in the proper context, not based in the self, as Severine’s is. The perilous outcomes are self evident from this film.
Celia had talked about this restaurant for some time before my arriving in Amsterdam, this is a restaurant she had frequented on many occasions and indeed one which she brings friends and relations to when they visit her in Amsterdam. SenT is short for the names of the restaurant’s founders, Steef and Thijs. See below my review of our exquisite dish, the glorious Chateaubriand.
This glorious dish was served with béarnaise sauce, chimichurri and french fries. Chateaubriand is a dish that traditionally consists of a large centre cut fillet of tenderloin grilled between two lesser pieces of meat that are discarded after cooking. SenT’s secret involves adding some olive wood to the charcoal while cooking the beef, which creates a unique flavour, which they claim one can normally only find on the beaches of Andalusia. As you can see from the below photograph I was rather excited to sample this much vaunted dish.
Notice the plume of steam which Celia’s excellent camera has captured. The dish was a triumph. There are few dishes which move me to tears, this is one of them. Honestly, this was one of the best beef dishes I have ever eaten. The meat was so tender, beautifully cooked with a lovely dark rose centre. The flavour – almost indescribable. Deep, rich, smokey, with the added richness of the wood with the charcoal – an exercise in divinity. The béarnaise sauce (a sauce of egg yolks, shallots, tarragon, butter, vinegar, and sometimes white wine and chopped chervil) was my favourite, it added a lightness to the dish overall and helped the dark smokey flavour of the meat sing. The chimichurri (a piquant sauce or marinade traditionally used on grilled meat, typically containing parsley, garlic, vinegar, olive oil, and flakes of chilli pepper) was a close second, adding a depth and spice to the pristine beef.
Overall this was an unmitigated triumph. I must thank my sister for bringing me to this hallowed eatery and will request it first thing on my return to Amsterdam.
