Unsettling violence and raw sexuality mark Shostakovich’s opera “Lady
Macbeth of Mtsensk”, it certainly resonated with the contemporary audience, as
it was a popular and critical success.
After two years and hundreds of performances the fame of the piece reached
the attention of the most powerful man in the country and he decided to go to a
performance. He was appalled by what he
saw and heard and left before the end of the piece. The next day, what had been an overwhelming
success was denounced in the newspaper, and the authorities began monitoring
Shostakovich’s activities.
The man who had come to see the opera was Josef Stalin, and his dislikes
had a way of being fatal. Shostakovich
had to do something, so he started writing his 5th Symphony and when
it was completed he subtitled it, “A Soviet Artist’s Response to Justified
Criticism.”
Whatever the moral and artistic justifications for the subtitling, you
have to admit that the 5th is a fantastic piece of music. What was it?
Cowardice? Self-preservation? Subtle defiance? Capitulation?
Irony? Who knows – but it kept
Shostakovich alive and he continued writing.
He was, after all, dealing with one of the greatest mass murderers in
the sad history of mankind’s inhumanity.
I thought of this piece of history from the 1930s when I was watching
the television news and they played a part of Felipe VI of Spain’s speech at
Davos, that comfortable gathering of the rich and privileged in a little Swiss
ski resort.
The part of the king’s speech that grabbed me was:
“With all this in mind, I don’t wish to conclude this
part of my speech without addressing the recent crisis in a truly fundamental
part of Spain’s soul and diverse identity: Catalonia; where we have seen an attempt to undermine the basic rules
of our democratic system.” [My
emphasis]
Let us forget about the location of this speech for a moment, though the
people there certainly forget about democracy on a regular basis, but
concentrate firstly on the person speaking.
Filipe VI is the son of Juan Carlos I, the man personally selected and
groomed for kingship by the Spanish Dictator Franco. Juan Carlos eventually abdicated after a
number of scandals including going on an all expenses paid hunting trip after a
television performance where he sympathized with the economic lot of the
struggling mass of the population; his various paternity cases; Royal spending
and the usual corruption of the very rich.
His abdication to become “King Emeritus” and the coronation of his son
Filipe was a political solution via a stitched-together deal between PP and
PSOE.
So this hereditary monarch, Bourbon de Bourbon, whose house was
reinstated by a Fascist dictator, has the temerity to talk about democracy! There was a referendum in Catalonia about
Independence; there was an election in Catalonia to form a new Parliament – I
can’t remember any referendum or election regarding the slipping on an eldest
son onto the throne of Spain!
Bourbon de Bourbon talking about Democracy is like Rees-Mogg campaigning
for a statue of Marie Stopes to be erected in Parliament Square.
After what Bourbon de Bourbon’s family has taken from and done to Spain
over the years, it is difficult to take his mouthing of platitudes as anything
more than calculated insult.
Meanwhile the “undermining of the rules of our basic democratic system”
continues apace with the farcical scattering of the police around any entry
point, though not all, to Spain just in case the dangerously elected
politician, and our President, Puigdemont might make it to Parliament where he
is the only candidate slated for the investiture of the office. The ever-absurd Zoido (sic.) the burly
cartoon character who has been inflated to be Minister of the Interior bustles
about the place trying (and signally failing) to look ministerial, or at least
competent, or even credible.
We have had television pictures at the border crossings with France
where the police are searching cars for our exiled President and also searching
handbags! I don’t know whether these
boys in blue (or whatever) think that canny Catalan scientists have mastered
the techniques shown in The Incredible Shrinking Man and that Puigdemont is
truly being smuggled in via a pencil case so that he can be dramatically
returned to full size inside the Parliament.
Or perhaps they are just stupid.
To be fair, I think it is more reasonable to suppose that, given a
stupid job they are trying to make it appear at least halfway sensible, by
searching properly. Making the best of
futility!
Meanwhile my enforced exile inside my house continues. I am counting the days to when I might
actually be allowed to take a short walk!
This morning I actually managed to re-arrange the flowers that I have
been given. Toni brought them to my
chair and I snipped and pruned and arranged.
This is something that I have always enjoyed doing. Flowers add life to a room and well arranged
blooms become more than their individual plants. I cannot pretend that I have my mother’s
skill, but I try my best and I am constantly amazed by just how much pleasure
flowers can give – especially if you are spending hour after hour in the same
chair!
I have also received a get-well card that also has flowers on it with
the stamens touched with gold! It all
works for me!
Toni is cleaning the kitchen.
Although a comparison with the Augean Stables would be unfair (though
Toni reports far too many surfaces are too sticky for comfort!) in terms of
sheer clutter rather than filth it is an accurate image.
We suffer from the Impenetrable Cupboard Syndrome,
where a wall of kitchen thingerie meets the baffled gaze when a door is
opened. We know that somewhere there
lurk Useful Things, but to find them everything has to be taken out and then
put back again. When that is the modus
operandi it is amazing how much and how often one can ‘make do’ with what one
can see.
For example, I know that I possess a melon baller, as who doesn’t? I have used it, and I know that it
works. It does make a fairly mundane
fruit look interesting, but how far is one prepared to exert oneself in the
effort of looking? I think there is a
time limit of a couple of minutes and a quick glance in The Drawer Where Things
Are – you know, that drawer that contains things that you could not work out
where else to put: The Drawer of Last Resort.
What truly frightens me is that Toni is now making executive decisions
based on the fact that I am supposed to sit down quietly and rest. And I am resting in the living room and not
the kitchen – where I can hear things being moved around and placed, who knows
where, maybe even in the bin! And
breathe, and relax!
This is now Day 6 (by my reckoning) and I have to get to Day 14 before I
can do anything as exciting as, for example, going for a walk. On Day 32 I might be able to go for a short,
slow swim. Something to work towards.
Meanwhile, there is editing, writing and reading. And I enjoy all three.
To work!
