Rare, I think, for people to come here before Diary of a Heretic’s main page. But if you did, my interview with John Baker as part of his virtual tour for his fantastic new novel “Winged With Death” is up today at The View From Here. One click. And of course my review lies below. “Winged With Death” is riveting and the language is beautiful and seductive, so check it out.
In John Baker’s thought-provoking, elegant new novel, “Winged With Death,” the past leads the present in an unstoppable tango.
The past is 1970s-80s Montevideo, Uruguay, where the military dictatorship is burying people alive, and a milonguero, a master of the tango, dances in cellar salons. The present is present-day York, England, where the dancer has returned to his home town and is drawn into the personal nightmare of a missing family member. “Winged With Death” is a sweeping novel and yet each step reveals a perfect pattern.
In 1972, eighteen-year-old Fredrick Boyle jumps ship in Montevideo, just as the military—with United States assistance—is capturing, torturing, and murdering people ever more ruthlessly. The people rely on a growing revolutionary group, the Tupamaros, to fight these death squads. But simultaneously, many if not most citizens struggle to deny that their friends and neighbors are disappearing all around them.
Fredrick is immediately befriended by Julio Ferrari, a skillful and well read Tupamaro, who on sight changes the Englishman’s name to Ramon Bolio, an identity he keeps. Thanks in part to Julio’s unwavering friendship, Ramon tutors the privileged children of the military. He falls in love with the tango, which in Montevideo is no ballroom dance. Rather, it “has none of the flamboyance…it is sometimes passionate and sensuous, often lyrical, even philosophical, but it is never for show alone unless it is a show of unity.”
Performed throughout the city, it is “a march for the dispossessed and exploited.” While mastering the tango, Ramon seduces the reigning milonguero’s protégée. With his beautiful, young partner, he becomes a dancer to the extent that the dance becomes his life.
“The inevitability of isolation is confined to the level of the senses. But there is a realm above that, to which we all subscribe, and there, there is the potential to move together, to be as one, to dance.”
Yet nobody is safe. When his neighbors disappear, Ramon has no way to respond. Except that like anyone, he is relieved that it isn’t him—this time.
The present era appears at first like an interruption. Ramon is back in York and his sixteen-year-old niece is missing. The parents, Ramon’s brother and his wife, are mentally slow. At first Ramon thinks the girl is taking a break from her obtuse parents and will soon return.
But time passes and Ramon finds he is again involved in a delicate, dangerous dance. “In the tango both leaders and followers lead and follow.” He bolsters and calms his devastated brother and sister-in-law. Every day he provides emotional support, expansive knowledge, and careful attention. Month after month, the teenage niece remains lost. Missing. Disappeared. “The questions are overwhelming, they hide a world that is too windy and wild to contemplate.”
Accepting the girl’s death is unbearable. Yet while mourning his niece, Ramon helps his brother and sister-in-law establish the rhythms necessary for waiting, grieving, and continuing on without their daughter.
He also finds his thoughts drawn back to Montevideo. During those years, long past, when people were faced with random, unrelenting murder and torture, survival depended upon shrouding reality and maintaining everyday denial.
Here John Baker’s tango comes full circle. “Winged With Death” resonates with time, demonstrating honestly how: “Each moment contains all that has gone before it, and each moment contains all that will follow.”
(Cross-posted here)
My friend, Jan of salabasngmandaluyong tagged me for this, which is much more an award than a meme. I copied his post starting here:
We're not supposed to look at the gift horse's mouth. If, however, you want to pay this forward, follow the following::
1) Put the logo on your blog
2) Add the link of the blogger who shared the award with you
3) Pass this award to bloggers whose blogs you love
4) Add your link to the list of participants below
5) Leave a message on the blog of the blogger who passed this award
Bloggers Lair/The World of Nothing/ The Macky That Doesn't Exist/ The Spoiled But Not a Brat/ Holding On/ The Mark of an Explorer/ Feel Free/ Shout Out/ Proud to be Filipina's Corner/ My New Way of Living/ I Love-Hate America/salabasngmandaluyong/Diary of a Heretic (Awards & Memes)/
After this, I’m naming a few others. Many bloggers who favor me with links and love, don’t go in for awards much and rarely put up memes. (You know who you are but most likely are not reading my Review & Meme blog, which I admit is a poor relation to Diary of a Heretic.) Many more bloggers enjoy memes and awards and have treated me with great generosity and I’m either inept or impatient by not naming you here. If you’re reading this, consider it "my bad," take the award you deserve and play it forward.
A huge shout out here: Whoever last Stumbled my under-500 word story, "Guaranteed Happiness," brought me unprecedented numbers of hits. Pure massive large, mon! I would love to know who you are. Jan did the same for me, earlier. Sad to say, my reciprocation will never compare. For I have Stumbled posts with such little consequence as to go unnoticed.
Below are a mere fraction of deserving bloggers I owe thanks:
The Declaration of the Democratic Worldview, by John Hank Edson ( http://democracypress.net) is a call to action for anyone with a stake in the American experiment. In this brief but thorough essay, Edson makes the case for re-examining the so-called “self-evident” truths of the Declaration of Independence.
Considering that it's been two hundred and thirty-three since those truths were laid down, Edson argues for a fresh look at the document that has determined this nation's laws and society from the beginning. And Edson digs into the subject with an analytic, virtually scientific rigor.
The issues can’t be ignored. As Edson states, “If we do not strengthen this foundation and give it the precise and ingenious engineering we have so often proven ourselves to be capable of…then the political process we construct on top of it will crumble like the proverbial house built on sand.”
The author proposes a framework to re-think the self-evident truths and come to a completely fresh way of understanding human rights, leading to a game plan for thwarting the unholy trio of economic monopoly, mercenary oppression, and religious authoritarianism that threaten our freedom.
The Declaration of the Democratic Worldview is an important and timely work, of special interest now that we have a new administration in Washington.
If you scroll down two posts you’ll see I just did a Seven Things meme two weeks ago. But this one comes from Stella, my brilliant and witty writing colleague at The View from Here. Also, it’s practically become second nature for me to view any and all attributes in groups of seven.
1. In the previous post I mentioned my long term fear of police. The police and I fail to communicate. Doctors and I usually get along very well. We sympathize with each other; recognize that any one person’s complaint is probably no big deal compared to another’s; discuss trends in various treatments that have more to do with the pharmaceutical business than specific illnesses.
2. My husband and I have two occicats, Archie, the darker one, and Oscar who’s silver. They are the naughtiest cats I’ve ever heard of. They can open dresser drawers, snag clothing and toss socks at each other all day. They’ll get their paws on a bra and play tug of war. And they can TP our apartment in ten minutes, but prefer paper towels. On the plus side, they come when we call them and can even play fetch. To say nothing of their wild beauty.
3. I get the worst migraine headaches ever afflicted on anyone throughout all time. And, I get them often. Typically, during the 24-hour peak, I feel as if half my head has been blown off. The upside of this (I try harder than you’d guess to be optimistic) is that for all that pain, I can experience commensurate pleasure. My good friends the doctors are beginning to see this in MRIs. And people with a history of migraines end up with a brain whose sensory and pleasure/pain lobes show extra nerve endings.
4. I don’t drink alcohol—ever—because one sip induces instant half-your-head-blown-off pain. But I can be as much fun at parties as any brandy snifter.
5. I’ve never eaten a McDonald’s hamburger or a Burger King. I’ve never eaten anything
at Wendy’s or Taco Bell.
6. I’m temperamental. In my previous Seven Things I offered examples of how opinionated I am, but I think temperamental is more accurate. When my son (who was wildly precocious) asked me when he was seven what the word meant, I defined it and my son said, “Oh, like you.”
7. My in-laws who leave the country at Christmas are apparently saying Fie! to economic reality and taking us to Rome for Christmas. The trip will be my Seventh outside the USA.
Phew, Seven (and every other number) is time; sometimes it's not enough; sometimes too much. These Seven were a lot. Finally, I'm tagging:
wornoutwoman
(The author of FINDING KLYLIE)
Utah Savage
Nina, the well-known novelist of The Alien Next Door must have such a sunny nature that she tends not to see someone like me as the raving heretic I am, but rather, as an optimistic, can-do being who deserves this bright Lemonade Out of Lemons Award.
This award goes to those who show an admirable attitude and brim with gratitude. And grateful, I am. For all my heretical sound and fury, I am actually a good deal more grateful than troubled and persecuted. So in the gratitude arena, I hereby gratefully accept. And fear not: I work tirelessly on my not always so great attitude. Maybe once the meme has gone around to those who inspire us, I'll think positive.
Here are the rules:
• Put the logo on your blog or post.
• Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!
• Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
• Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
• Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received your award.
The rules say to tag at least 10 blogs, but I'm only doing five. As I said, I'm still working on my attitude. The bright and grateful crew are:
Lisa Holdren tagged me for a Seven Facts meme—an easy one. From what I can tell, Suzanne Lieurance at The Working Writers’ Coach initiated this piece of pie: Seven Random Facts About Me. Eyes closed? Consider skin (1), muscle (2), bone (3), cartilage (4), ligaments (5), nerves (6), and blood (7). Maybe those are too random. Or, not random enough.
I’ll try again. First, the rules: list Seven Random Facts and tag Seven other bloggers. I’m only tagging five but I’m unscrupulous, that’s a random fact, but free.
These are real: SEVEN RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME:
1. I’m afraid of the police. Nothing serious ever happened between them and me; just a few inappropriate giggles (mine), threats (theirs), t aunts (mine), and heavy financial retribution (theirs). To my mind, I don’t even break the law; my opinions do.
2. I’m extremely opinionated. So people say. As a tiny example, imho: if everyone would respect each other, as well as him- or herself, no exceptions, we might not need laws. No name weapons, no name calling, no cheap shots, no meanness. Take further. No police, no jails, no war. Mind your manners. Honor everyone’s human frailty and empathize.
That’s my opinion.
3. All I ever wanted, all my life was to succeed as a writer. Except by writer, I mean novelist, or lately, novella-writer. And by succeed I mean get published and popular enough to earn a living. My parents have always said no. No, I absolutely could not do that. Don’t you hate it when your parents are right about stuff like that?
4. So I didn’t get what I always wanted. Instead, I’ve got the best husband and two children ever born. The three of them fill me with joy—always, without trying. (At least, I think they’re not trying.)
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5. Sometime this month, I damaged the fourth finger on my right hand doing fingertip chaturangas (they’re like push-ups except you push up in the air and float back to your toes before bending your elbows). During one of the two hour yoga classes I try to get to three times a week, a ligament tore loose, semi-permanently bending my top knuckle. Now and for three months, I’m wearing a cast, which may or may not straighten my finger.
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I've never seen a James Bond Movie:
Or a Star Wars Movie:
Or a Raiders of the Lost Ark Movie.
I'm tagging: Ioju, Morinn ,Nina, Cheryl and Janet Snell,and Mark. Happy, happy Thanksgiving, everyone! (That’s not ironic; not my favorite holiday, but you have a good one!)
Bloggers from 44 countries are participating in the Fifth BlogBlast for Peace,founded by Mimi Lenox, and I’m among them. Here and on my main blog, Diary of a Heretic, I’m posting different Peace Globes, both inspired by Bob Marley.
Why Bob Marley? The research I did for the story I’m writing now revealed again and again how passionately (and nonpolitically) he sang and otherwise sought One Love, as Peace on Earth.
“The Snowing and Greening of Thomas Passmore,” by Paul Burman (Paperbooks Publishing, 2008) is that rare novel that goes deep into the inner life of its characters, yet moves right along with the brisk pace of a page-turner. Beautifully written, richly atmospheric and movingly told, it leaves you with the true sense that your world has expanded.
When we first meet him, the title character is almost literally living in two worlds at once: a comfortable married life with children in Australia, and a past life in England, where he has substantial unfinished emotional business. Called to England by his mother’s illness, he makes a pilgrimage through his past, ultimately finding the closure that he so desperately needs.
Author Paul Burman jumps seamlessly between Thomas Passmore’s past and present. The story alternates between dreamlike, almost hallucinogenic scenes in Thomas’s head and stark descriptions of place that are so vivid that, without ever having traveled there, I felt as if I knew them, from the unblemished Australian beach to bleak locales in the UK that most outsiders never see.
Yet what marks “The Snowing and Greening of Thomas Passmore” as a true work of art is the startling transformation of the characters: Thomas is a man in the midst of a metamorphosis; Kate, his first love, is a haunting muse who herself changes dramatically over the course of the book. The cast of supporting characters from Thomas’s past and present provide a solid grounding for the spiritual and emotional climax of the story. In the end, you will find yourself transformed as well.
