jueves, 24 de agosto de 2023

EL COLEGIO CATÓLICO DE LOS HORRORES

 De niña era muy, MUY asustadiza. Y a las seis primaveras quiso mi familia materna que hiciera la Primaria en el colegio de las Carmelitas de Castellón. Craso error. Sólo duré septiembre, y en octubre estaba en el CAU, una escuela de autismo secular y mucho más libre de iconografía sagrada. No era sólo por las huchas del DOMUND que parecían cabezas cortadas en tierras extrañas. Había también en el comedor un cuadro de la Última Cena de estilo románico con los personajes de cara de bombilla y ojos saltones como los marcianos de Mars Attacks!, una película cuyos extraterrestres me aterrorizaban. No quería comer en el comedor y no podía comer en casa porque mi mamá trabajaba de camarera. Así que comía en el despacho de la directora.

Pero no era solo eso. También había unas monjas en el colegio que me helaban la sangre. Nada más entrar, te encontrabas con una imagen de una monja con la boca muy roja inclinada sobre una colegiala con un uniforme de época, un pichi azul cobalto:

Parece que vaya a ganarse su confianza para chuparle toda la sangre.

Y, en la capilla del colegio, hay unos cuadros de Albert Guallart, gran artista de la provincia, sobre unas monjas cuidando de enfermos y heridos durante las Guerras Napoleónicas. Lo malo es que los rostros y los hábitos de las monjas las hacen parecer fantasmas:

Ya ves por qué tuve y aún tengo pesadillas de este colegio (además de las huchas del DOMUND)



Para más INRI (y hago énfasis en el INRI), era el 1998 y este cartel estaba hasta en la sopa:

Me daban un miedo PARALIZANTE estos tres personajes. La monja anciana de la izquierda me parecía la bruja de Blancanieves; la monja joven de la derecha (yo la recordaba como asiática, ¡efecto Mandela!) no sabía si era "él o ella", y el niño biafreño del medio, en particular sus ojos (esas escleróticas) y sus labios (¿cuántas avispas le habrán picado?) me recordaban un huevo a las huchas del Domund de cerámica que había en todas las aulas de las Carmelitas. Además parecía que las monjas querían experimentar (en el sentido científico de la palabra) con el pobre pequeñín...
No me atrevo a imaginar por qué Tomás Reviejo Bueno (he buscado en Google el nombre del ilustrador) se atrevería a retratar así a estos tres personajes que me helaban la sangre cada vez que pasaba por un cartel de Domund 98...

martes, 22 de agosto de 2023

VICTOR HUGO ON OTHELLO

 #OthElokuu

Victor Hugo - Excerpt from William Shakespeare

Translated by Sandra Dermark

22nd of August, MMXXIII

..................

Who or what is Othello? A beautiful fatal figure! Othello is the darkness of night. This darkness loves the light of day. That is why the Moor loves the fair Desdemona. She is the light and the madness of Othello. How easy it is for him to be jealous! Othello is great, august, he has for an entourage bravery in battle, banners, clangour, fame, glory, and the splendour of one hundred battles... But his skin is dark. And how easy it is for the hero to become a savage monster! How easy for darkness and death to understand one another!

By the side of Othello, the darkness of night, we have Iago, who is Evil. Evil is another form of darkness. The night is only the darkness of Earth, but Evil IS the darkness of the spirit. What darkness that which is sired by wickedness and lies! Isn't it the same to let black ink flow on the page or to let black treachery course through one's veins? Whoever has seen pretenses and wickedness from up close knows. One walks carefully with a liar. Pour out hypocrisy at the crack of dawn, and you will surely blot out the Sun. That has happened to God with corruption of the various Churches.

Iago, by Othello's side, is the chasm by the slippery slope. "Here," whispers the snare set to blindness. The wicked shows the path to the black. Deception is in charge of giving the light that fails to darkness. Jealousy has lies for pathfinders. What a terrible spectacle to behold the dark Othello and the traitor Iago fighting whiteness and purity! The two incarnations of the eclipse conspire, one of them roaring and the other smiling, in order to attain the tragic disappearance of the light.

Othello is the darkness of night. Probe these depths. Being the darkness of night and wanting to kill, what is his weapon of choice? Poison, morningstar, axe, blade? No, it's the PILLOW. To kill is to put to sleep. Maybe Shakespeare himself was not aware of what he did. Such IS the force and such the reality of character types, that their creator gets carried away by them. And thus, Desdemona, united to the darkness-man, dies stifled by the pillow in which she received both his first kiss and her last dying breath.





domingo, 20 de agosto de 2023

LA MARIPOSA ALADA (FIN DE CURSO CON BELLMAN)

 Esta canción de Bellman la cantan en Suecia en todos los fines de curso, desde Primaria hasta la Universidad (un poco como "Hotaru no hikari, mado no Yuki" 蛍の光、窓の雪 "La luz de las luciérnagas, la nieve en el cristal" con melodía de "For Auld Lang Syne" en Japón). Es la primera toma de contacto de la infancia o niñez sueca con la obra de Carl Michael Bellman. Sin más dilación...

...............................

LA MARIPOSA ALADA

(Canción número 64, primera estrofa)

Por Carl Michael Bellman

Traducida del sueco por Sandra Dermark

Dedicada a toda la familia Dermark-Rydskog, los presentes y los ausentes. Sin ellos no sería quien soy.

.........................

Veis la mariposa alada

entre frío y nieblas hoy,

se hace su casita verde

en el cáliz de una flor.

Los bichitos del pantano

se despiertan con el sol,

por el céfiro avivada

una nueva festiva estación.





sábado, 19 de agosto de 2023

ELOGIO DE LA POLCA (EVERT TAUBE)

 ELOGIO DE LA POLCA

Evert Taube

Traducido del sueco por Sandra Dermark

el 19 de agosto de MMXXIII

......................................

Nunca bailaré el vals,

nunca, no casará

nunca con mi actitud,

porque el vals es una cruz,

¡mas la polca les va 

en el norte y el sur!

Si te va la locura,

la alta cultura,

el ritmo tienes en los pies,

¡ay, qué maravilla es 

el poder bailar la POL-CA!

¡Hopsasa! ¡Y da la vuelta!

¡Hopsasa! ¡Y da la vuelta!

Polca en las verdes praderas,

música que alegra el corazón...

¡Ay, qué gusto más mortífero,

sin tablaos resbaladizos,

bailar en la noche clara 

la polca al natural!

¡Natural! ¡Natural!

¡Esa polca va a alegrar, uh!

La alegría es sana, entera,

aire, sol y agua refresca,

de los pies a la cabeza,

la polca purifica el corazón.

Riya tralariya tralariya tralará lará

Tralará

Riya tralariya tralariya tralará lará

¡Hopsasa!

................................

Nunca bailaré el vals,

nunca, no casará

nunca con mi actitud,

porque el vals es una cruz,

¡mas la polca les va 

en el norte y el sur!

Si te va la locura,

la alta cultura,

el ritmo tienes en los pies,

¡ay, qué maravilla es 

el poder bailar la POL-CA!

¡Hopsasa! ¡Y da la vuelta!

¡Hopsasa! ¡Y da la vuelta!

Polca en las verdes praderas,

música que alegra el corazón...

¡Ay, qué gusto más mortífero,

sin tablaos resbaladizos,

bailar en la noche clara 

la polca al natural!

¡Natural! ¡Natural!

¡Esa polca va a alegrar, uh!

La alegría es sana, entera,

aire, sol y agua refresca,

de los pies a la cabeza,

la polca purifica el corazón.

Riya tralariya tralariya tralará lará

Tralará

Riya tralariya tralariya tralará lará

¡Hopsasa!

VALENCIA IN BAUM'S SANTA CLAUS

 In L. Frank Baum's Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, there is "the King of the Ryls (plant sprites), who lived among the gay (read: merry) flowers and luscious fruits of Valencia."

Must have seemed pretty exotic for an Anglo-Saxon Victorian reader, right?

viernes, 18 de agosto de 2023

PUDDING MED ARSENIK

 PUDDING MED ARSENIK

Enligt Tor Isedal och Magoyond


I en gryta med stryknin

sättes till en dos morfin

Ljumma upp och häll i sen

ett glas fullt av fotogen...

Åh, jag häller nog i två!

Skrapa sen en igelslem,

ger en smak som fint går hem,

en skorpion i bitar små...

Och så vanlig peppar på!

NEEEEJ!!!

........................

Denna arsenik blir stark

när man sätter till av knark

två matskedar rågade...

Undrar om någon vågade!!!

Jo jo! Jag sätter nog till TRE!!

Ödleblod i särskild skål

hettas upp så långt det tål,

kobragift sju droppar små...

Och så pudersocker på!

NEEEEJ!!!

........................

Lite råttgift rörs däri,

bättre kan det knappast bli,

för att göra smaken fin

ta tre klyftor apelsin...

Jag tar bara EN!

Krydda upp med syltad frukt,

kamouflerar dålig lukt,

med essens av kaprifol...

Och en smula vitriol!

JAAA!!! Det är ju SVAVELSYRA!!!

Vi visste att det vore bra...

......................

Puddingen med arsenik 

säkert gör att några lik

hamnar uppå Nilens strand,

mums för krokodilens tand!

ZOM-BIER-NAAA!!!

(scattande)



DIANA THOMPSON, THE ASTROLOGER

Diana Thompson

A Toronto practitioner who holds the title of Astrologer. Threw in her lot with Blake as of the Subordination arc, but is forced into Conquest's service during their competition.

  • Geek: When Blake and company visit her in Void 7.10, she's revealed to be a big one, particularly about computers and how astrology works.
  • It's Personal: Hates Conquest because her mentor exchanged his life for hers, becoming one of Conquest's ghosts.
  • Legacy Character: Her title is inherited and passed on to a successor when the current holder gets old.
  • Mrs. Robinson: What Jeremy claims her to be. That and she may have a thing for Blake being younger.
  • Post-Modern Magik: Her magic uses computers and lights to make constellations that she calls spirits into.
  • Reasonable Authority Figure: Out of all of the other powers, she's the one who is neither hostile, overbearing, or predatory towards Blake. Blake even thinks to himself she's probably the first practitioner that hadn't screwed him over.

The other local was a woman sat on a fallen chunk of masonry, her legs folded beside her.  Her hair was blonde, and she held a golden spindle.  I might have pegged her at thirty.  I almost thought she was a Duchamp, but the facial features didn’t fit the general mold I’d seen before.

"And Diana Thompson.  Astrologer.”

“What’s your sign, Blake?” Diana asked.

“Can I tell that to an astrologer without putting myself at risk?” I asked.

“You can,” she said.

“Okay,” I said, “Let me rephrase.  Will I open myself up to any risk by sharing it?”

“I promise you no harm from me and mine, along this vector,” she said.  “I’m curious about your compatibility, nothing more.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “I’d need that sort of promise from everyone present, and I don’t want to offend the Lord of Toronto.”


The building was only one floor, squat, with a sloped roof. The snow heaped over it had greater dimensions than the building did.


I knocked.


The Astrologer answered.


“You don’t have any errant spirits on your person? Nothing electrical or technical?” she looked at Maggie, “No gremlins?”


“No,” I said.


“No,” Maggie said.


“Good. Come in. Tea?” she asked. “I’m drinking a lot of tea right now. I ran out of milk a good few hours ago, so you’d have to choose between green and black.”


“Sure,” I said. “Wouldn’t complain. Green.”


“Going to be a bit of a squeeze, but you guys should come in.”


The others gave their orders as I made my way inside.


It kind of baffled, boggled the mind even, that we were in the great white north, a place with a freakishly low population density of about four people per square kilometer, and yet I kept finding myself in places without enough room.


I took a fraction too long to decide where I could sit where I’d have enough room, prompting a, “Blake?” from Alexis behind me.


We sat, in chairs or on the edges of desks, where we could find the room. The room wasn’t much larger than my parents’ one-car garage had been when I’d been growing up, and it was chock full of computer towers, shelves and boxes. Where those things alone didn’t take up enough space, the place was further littered with errant books and stacks piles of paper, a lot of it from some old fashioned printer where the paper connected as a series of sheets, end to end in one long feed with holes at the side so the machine could manipulate it better. The printouts themselves were faded, featuring reams of calculations, and many piles had words written on the sides in marker.


Diana looked so mellow and laid back, compared to the put-together way she’d looked when I’d first seen her. Skirt over tights, slippers, and a loose woolen sweatshirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail. She flicked on her kettle, which rested on a shelf.


“My humble abode,” Diana said. “I do have a house, but I spend most of my time here.”


The computer monitors, even, were old CRTs, some black and green. The place smelled like tea, ozone and mold. The whole setup, including the vaguely rounded pile of snow above the building, struck me as being a kind of high tech hobbit hole.

Not what I might have assumed.

Maggie smirked, “This is where the magic happens, huh?”

Ty groaned.

 “I like it,” I said.  I wasn’t lying.

“I do too.  Aesthetically.  In terms of usability, though, a lot of it’s grandfathered in.  My mentor was cutting edge, but cutting edge then is archaic today.  I’m not sure if it’s easier to let go of the sentimental attachment or wizard up some kind of power up to the equipment.”

“You were close,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said.  “By the way, I really am sorry for shooting you.”

“It was nonlethal, you were trying to help,” Alexis said.

“Did you talk to Fell’s family?” I asked.  I wasn’t sure if the old woman counted, but ‘family’ could just as easily refer to the little girl alone.

“I did.  They aren’t as forgiving as miss Alexis is.”

I nodded.  “Trouble?”

Diana frowned, taking her seat.  “A lot of trouble these days.”

“Not so different from my life,” I told her.

“Maybe not.  I felt some empathy for you when I realized just how much you’d gone out of your way to stop the Hyena, imp and the demon in the machine.”

“Machine?” Rose asked.  “I don’t think there were any machines in there.  The factory was stripped bare.”

“That’s not the kind of machine I’m talking about.  I’m talking about reality.”

“Ah,” I said.

“I haven’t been sleeping, and I’m prone to go off on tangents when I’m on my own.  The sisters are attacking in shifts, and the problem with my setup is that things are spread out.  I won’t share details, I hope you understand why.”

She didn’t trust us one hundred percent.  I nodded.

“I can protect my things if I’m paying attention.  But I can’t pay attention while I’m sleeping, and they attack every two to four hours.  I’m making mistakes, and I can’t afford to.”

“You have sentimental attachments to those other places?” I guessed.

“Yeah.  He made all this fun, you know?  Geeking out, hanging on every word while this fantastic, funny, geeky man described what he was doing.  Tapping into greater things, experimenting on my own… I can remember the day I surprised him, came up with an answer he hadn’t.”  Diana had a fond smile on her face.  “Then push came to shove, reality settled in, and he cut his life short for my freedom.  Freedom I frittered away.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “I know how important precious people can be.”

Alexis glanced at me.  I kept my eyes fixed on a stack of paper between me and Diana, refusing to meet hers.

Alexis glanced at me.  I kept my eyes fixed on a stack of paper between me and Diana, refusing to meet hers.

“You asked us to come here for more than a second apology and some company,” Rose said.  “You want help.”

“I’m not twisting your arm,” Diana said, quiet, “I’ll totally understand if you refuse, and I promise no vendetta or meaningful grudges, so long as it ends at just a polite refusal.  Or even a refusal punctuated with swear words, if you decide me shooting your friend there deserves it.  But I’m very tired, the Sisters think that if they keep messing with me, they’re either going to break the machinery that their spirit is dwelling in, or they’ll break me, and I’ll find a way to return it to them.”

“They aren’t fond of me either,” I said.

“Can you try?”

“I’ll trade a favor for a favor,” I said.

“I’m listening.”

“We’re meeting the Sisters,” I said.  “If the opportunity arises, and if we can do it without undue risk or harm either way, I’ll see what I can do to alleviate the strain they’re putting on you.”

“I’d complain about how vague you’re being, but I’m happy to hear this much.  What are you asking for?”

“Permission.  I want freedom from the rules of the contest, to practice as I need to practice, to deal with the demon in the factory, and maybe the imp if the opportunity arises.”

Maggie was the one who spoke, “You’re Conquest’s champions, you’re his hands.  In his absence, I’m thinking you could collectively be his voice.  Blake would be acting outside the bounds of the contest, but this would give it tacit weight.”

Diana nodded slowly.  “Swear you won’t use any power directly gained or granted during these excursions should the contest resume.”

“Hey,” Ty said.  “We’re offering help, no need to play hardball.”

“No,” I said.  “That’s fine.  It’s in my interests to do it.  More weight, as Maggie said.  I hereby swear that I’ll put all power and weapons aside, to the best of my ability, should Conquest be freed and this contest resume.”

Diana nodded. “Tea stopped boiling, and I didn’t even notice.”

She was halfway to her feet when she saw our expectant stares.  “You have my permission, by the way.”

I relaxed a little.  I wasn’t the only one.

She bustled with cups and teabags for a moment, re-confirming a few people’s choices of tea.

“Earlier, we were talking about websites and cameras,” Ty said, with the next available moment of quiet.  “Seems like you’d be the person to ask for clarification.”

“If you’re looking for a fast power grab, this isn’t the way to do it,” the Astrologer said, without turning around.  “What I do took generations to put together, and it has its weaknesses.”

“I’m not looking for a fast power grab.”

“This is niche, unperfected, pretty out there by practitioner standards.”

“It’s like you’re speaking my language,” Ty said.

“You really are speaking his language,” Alexis said.

“I can almost guarantee that I’d bore you if you let me get going,” the Astrologer said.

“Bet you wouldn’t,” Ty said.

“You probably wouldn’t be able to bore him,” I said.  “As for the rest of us, why don’t we say we’ll stay until the tea’s done, and then we have to go?  So we have an excuse to leave if we need it?”

Diana smiled.  “You don’t know what you’re doing, giving me a chance to talk about this stuff.”

“Give me your worst geek-out,” Ty said.  “And I wouldn’t mind your email, so I don’t forget.”

Diana reached backward and grabbed a scrap of paper, scribbling her email down. “Don’t feel offended if I take a few days to reply.  My modem only does twenty-eight kilobits a second, and I only have so much patience.”

I don’t think anyone present wasn’t horribly affronted by the idea.

“Like I said, grandfathered technology and sentimental attachments,” Diana said.  “On to explanations.  It’s about math, at the most basic level.  Space, not the out-there space, but space in general.  Proportions, lines, and really big diagrams.  With this computer, I program the lasers…”

It was, in the end, not quite as boring as she’d said it would be, though it was pretty bad.

All the same, Ty hung on every word.

While I was thinking about implements, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of implement a guy got when his defining trait was an inability to commit to a path.

■

The Sisters had a place that was as spacious as Diana’s place had been cramped.  Diana hadn’t made her place a demesne, and I suspected I knew why.  So long as she didn’t, the building was still partially his.  Her mentor’s.