Found in translation

Today we had the first meeting of our book group and discussed Ann Patchett’s Bel canto – a wonderful novel which I was reading for the second time. It’s set in a hostage situation in a Latin American country (so I get my points for Passport to Latin America) – but that sums it up wrongly. Great sweeping themes of love and language and communication and lifelong learning – crystallised in tiny details such as chewed plaits, diced onions, stitches and opera scores. We love Gen, the modest translator who becomes the lynchpin of the whole situation. We were an all-female gathering so we’d love to know what any male readers out there think of the book?

This evening I have been writing an email to a very old friend – a fabulous Frenchwoman who dated an uncle of mine when I was barely 5 or 6 years old. I haven’t been in touch with her for literally decades, but I have always credited her with developing my language skills – she gave me French picture books and wrote out all the vocab, sat with me reading and talking. I still have all those books about 20 house moves later – they are very precious and meaningful to me.

Words are good things to spend time on, and are best shared with others.

Back to life, back to reality

So, I’m just back from a fabulously relaxing holiday in Tenerife. I knew it was time for a break when at the airport I could see monitors displaying “Paris CDG” and found myself wondering how our French Division was doing and whether I should be asking them for their 2008 Divisional Plan. Nuff said.

No truly household names were harmed during our stay, thus demonstrating the fantasy principle that naming something is an inherently powerful act.

Book reviews from my week away:

• Jane Smiley – Ten Days in the Hills: I love Jane Smiley and her books are all really quite different. This one is definitely at her trashy end! A bunch of folks (longlost offspring, ex-partners, business associates, random gurus) spend 10 days together in the Hollywood area immediately after the 2003 Academy Awards. They chat about Iraq, argue, wacth and chat about movies, reminisce and have really quite a lot of graphic sex (unusual for Smiley’s novels). For reading by the pool in 25 degree heat, it was just fine.
• Isabel Allende – The House of the Spirits: finally I got round to reading this absolutely wonderful novel! Epic saga of several generations, each more quirky than the last, a social history of South America but with a light and personal touch. Moving, passionate, funny and tragic by turns. You can keep Marquez – this for me is the real deal – realism and magical but with a plot. I sponsored myself to read this as part of our Passport to Latin America. What shall I read next? Suggestions?
• Khaled Hosseini – The Kite Runner: yes, yes, another one long overdue. Only halfway through but what a captivating story. See above – moving, passionate, tragic and compelling.

So it’s back to the mountain of emails and post and undone tasks… information overload still alive and kicking… but the cats are pleased to have me home and there are signs that the garden is coming back to life. Loads to catch up on with CDG, great stuff happening all over the place!

Don’t let the sun catch you blogging

Well, here it is, this blog is only a week old and I’m about to abandon it for a week. Hush; dry your tears. We will blog again soon. I’m off to sunny Tenerife tomorrow and Martyn and I have a sacrosanct NO INTERNET pact. I will be eschewing email, web browsing and telephones in favour of novels, conversation, sun, sea and honey rum. Fasting can be good discipline - we once did a corporate fast which included a week off the media and a week off non-essential shopping.

CDG is of course never far from my thoughts, and there’s a lot coming up in the next few months – April will see our national conference and AGM in Cardiff, plus the Scottish Division AGM at the Saltire Centre; May is Council, my Presidential Reception, a trip down to East Midlands Division and our first Scottish Revalidation course, which is shaping up rather nicely (I have a selection of useful Margarets at my disposal). And June is looking distinctly hairy.

In my holiday suitcase is a copy of The house of the spirits by Isabel Allende – always meant to read it and whaat better opportunity than to do so as part of the Passport to Latin America sponsored reading challenge, raising money for the group’s international projects.

It’s not hitherto been public knowledge, but when on holiday I seem to form part of a bizarre Celebrity Death Squad. It started when the Queen Mother passed away during our Spanish holiday in 2002. A trip to Portugal coincided with the last days of the Pope. Other vacations have seen us say goodbye to such luminaries as Jim Callaghan, Mo Mowlam, Brother Roger of Taize, and last year it was the turn of Bob Woolmer. It doesn’t seem to matter whether we holiday at home or abroad; we seem to spread chaos in our wake. So watch the news this week and think of us.