Paul Gellings presents Verbrande schepen

 Paul Gelling reading from his novel Verbrande schepen published by Uitgeverij Passage on Thor, the culture boat in Zwolle. An intriguing errancy, a search for a love lost, and absolution maybe, to be sure of that , I will have to read the book first...

 Here is Paul Gellings with Fred Schywek who translated Paul's poetry book Stem van de herfst - Stimmes des Herbstes.

Probable publication date: Poetry day in January 2012.
Zwolle, enlightens through lighthouses and literature.

Summertime by J.M. Coetzee

On a cold snowy, icy day at the 'Salon du Livre' in Colmar I stumbled upon Summertime by J.M. Coetzee. I have read Disgrace and several books of his essay's about literature and have been intrigued by Coetzee as a writer. So Summertime was meant to warm my chilly winter evenings. two nights was what it took to be warmed once again to this writer. The plot seems funny: a young English biographer wants to write a biography of late Mr. Coetzee and he searches out 5 respondents who knew him in the 1970's the formative basic years for his writing. So through 'conversations and interviews' and 'proofreading' of the transcription of the interview, Coetzee manages to weave in a lot nuance and possibilities. He draws a picture of himself as awkward, extremely insecure and socially incompetent, without a hair of sexual air about him. It made me smile, made me think about South Africa and the changes that took place and how estranged and alienated I felt when visiting the country because of work. And I recognize the question  that is asked in the book how to define where one stands politically or ethically. His teetering between radical (exemplified by doing his manual labor himself, although is inept at it, in order not to exploit a black person and feeling 'Afrikaander' because nobody claims what went on before and without Afrikaanders there would be no guilt, which he assumes. So J.M. Coetzee, thanks for another book and a lesson in letting go of taking oneself too seriously. Friends, read the book!

treaties would be signed...

A poem of James Welch based on his Blackfoot family stories told during his childhood. He is better know as a great novelist.

James Welch

The end came easy for most of us.
Packed away in our crude beginnings
in some far corner of a flat world,
we didn't expect much more
than firewood and buffalo robes
to keep us warm. The man came down,
a sloughing dwarf with rainwater eyes,
and spoke to us. He promised
that life would go on as usual,
that treaties would be signed, and everyone -
man, women, and child - would be inoculated
against a world in which we had no part,
a world of money, promise and disease.

Het einde was makkelijk voor de meesten van ons.
Weggestopt in onze grove oorsprongen
in een verre hoek van een platte wereld,
verwachtten we niet veel meer
dan brandhout en bizonvesten
om ons warm te houden. De man kwam hierheen,
een gebogen dwerg met regenwaterogen,
en hij sprak tot ons. Hij beloofde
dat verdragen zouden worden getekend, en iedereen -
man, vrouw en kind - zou worden ingeënt
tegen een wereld waarin we geen rol spelen,
een wereld van geld, beloften en ziekte.