Arnon Grunberg's Blog, page 472

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Chez Chorn

“Chez Chorn” is a small Thai restaurant in Montreux, not far from the Château de Chillon.
An elderly Western man and a Thai lady are running the restaurant.
I assume that the man who presumably is from Switzerland fell in love with a lady from Thailand.
The woman does the cooking; the man is cleaning the tables.
While I was having lunch there he also offered me to turn on the fan.

Paris

Al fresco

“Het Terras” is the outdoor café at Hotel de l’Europe in Amsterdam.
On its website we read:
“A warm-weather dining destination where vintage Euro chic riverside dining pairs with sumptuous updated Parisian-influenced café classics and seasonal local specialties. A spectacular al fresco setting atop a charming open-air patio offers breathtaking views of Amsterdam’s famous canals.”

Last Friday I had lunch at “Het Terras” with my publisher. The lunch was okay, but perhaps that was because of the entertaining company of my publisher.

On Tuesday evening I went back to “Het Terras” with my girlfriend.
The food was mediocre (steak tartare as an appetizer, then codfish) -- the waiters were clumsy or even worse: unfriendly.

Obviously the manager at “Het Terras” thought: A Parisian influence? I got it, waiters and waitresses with an attitude.

No, stop discriminating against the Parisians.

Quality

Money

Tim Parks on the relationship between money and literature:

‘When they are starting out writers rarely make anything at all for what they do. I wrote seven novels over a period of six years before one was accepted for publication. Rejected by some twenty publishers that seventh eventually earned me an advance of £1,000 for world rights. Evidently, I wasn’t working for money. What then? Pleasure? I don’t think so; I remember I was on the point of giving up when that book was accepted. I’d had enough. However much I enjoyed trying to get the world into words, the rejections were disheartening; and the writing habit was keeping me from a “proper” career elsewhere.
I was writing, I think, in my early twenties, to prove to myself that I could write, that I could become part of the community of writers, and it seemed to me I could not myself be the final judge of that question. To prove I could write, that I could put together in words and interesting take on experience, I needed the confirmation of a publisher’s willingness to invest in me, and I needed readers, hopefully serious readers, and critics. For me, that is, a writer was not just someone who writes, but someone published, read and, yes, praised. Why I had set my heart on becoming that person remains unclear.’

(…)

‘Paradoxically, then, almost the worst thing that can happen to writers, at least if it’s the quality of their work we’re thinking about, is to receive, immediately, all the money and recognition they want. At this point all other work, all other sane and sensible economic relation to society, is rapidly dropped and the said author now absolutely reliant on the world’s response to his or her books, and at the same time most likely surrounded by people who will be building their own careers on his or her triumphant success, all eager to reinforce intimations of grandeur. An older person, long familiar with the utter capriciousness of the world’s response to art, might deal with such an enviable situation with aplomb. For most of us it would be hard not to grow presumptuous and self-satisfied, or alternatively (but perhaps simultaneously) over-anxious to satisfy the expectations implied by six-figure payments. An interesting project, if any academic has the stomach to face the flak, would be to analyze the quality of the work of those young literary authors paid extravagant advances in the 1980s and 1990s; did their writing and flair, so far as these things can be judged, fall off along with the cash? For how long did the critical world remain in denial that their new darling was not producing the goods? Celebrity almost always outlives performance.’

(Read the complete article here.)

We are living in an era, and I believe that’s what Mr. Parks is pointing out, where money has become the equivalent of quality. If we hear that a publisher paid 100.000 US dollars for a debut novel, we ought to believe that this is an extraordinary novel. The advance payment might be taken as proof that the author is indeed exceptionally talented.

Money talks.

Perhaps the author should not be economically dependent on the sales of his books; perhaps this will allow him (or her) to write better, more adventurous books.

But how about Dostoevsky, Joseph Roth and Heinrich Heine, to name just a few. (Who were all dependent on advance payments, royalties and fees from newspapers and magazines. And benefactors.)

Hands

Colonial era

Rami G. Khouri in The Daily Star, a Lebanese newspaper, on Syria:
“This leads me to conclude that the bigger story that links Syria with the other Arab uprisings and recent Middle Eastern developments is that the will and actions of indigenous Arabs, Iranians and Turks will always have a greater impact than anything done by powers abroad. The striking inability of the Americans, Russians and their assorted allies to shape events in Syria follow similar serial failures in recent decades in their attempts to promote Arab-Israeli peace, democratic transformations, economic trajectories or other such strategic issues.
Only when local people across the Middle East took matters into their own hands did conditions change, and history resume. The sentiments of ordinary people such as those in Bab al-Hawa, Midan, Deir al-Zor and Deraa are far more significant that the pronouncements of the world’s powers. The sooner we learn this lesson, the better off we will all be.
The colonial era may finally be drawing to a close.”

(Read the complete article here.)

I’m not convinced that the colonial era has come to an end and that “local people” are taking matters in their own hands. I’m afraid that new masters have come to displace the old ones, but I hope that Rami G. Khouri is right.

9

95

My mother’s neighbor is 95 and she got a new phone, a present from her cousin.
This afternoon, she came to my mother’s garden and she said: “They took away my old phone and they gave me this new phone for my birthday. I don’t want a new phone; I want my old phone. And the letter ‘g’ doesn’t function on this phone, because the letter ‘g’ resembles the number ‘9’. The letter ‘g’ is very problematic for computers did you know that? The letter ‘g’ is a huge problem. But I don’t care; I need the letter ‘g’. We live in amazing times, they can solve almost any problem, but even for a genius the letter ‘g’ is still a problem. My father always said: ‘You will need to become 100 years old and perhaps then you will experience world peace.’ In 5 years I’ll turn 100, but I’m not completely sure if world peace will be established by that time. Anyhow, first we need to solve the problem of the letter ‘g’. I had cauliflower for dinner and a little bit of meat; I don’t save the leftovers for the next day anymore. I’m too old for that. Cauliflower from yesterday, now that is something that makes me sick.”
My mother nodded and I said: “You are right.”

I’m not sure if my mother’s neighbor is a profound thinker or a surrealist, or perhaps both. Anyhow, listening to her is always a pleasure.

My mother is fond of saying: “My neighbor is living in a fairy tale, but she is cooking dinner every night. You can live in a fairy tale without starving, it’s amazing.’

Twelve

Tour

July 21, my godson’s birthday.
A magician came to my hotel to entertain twelve kids and a handful of adults.
I fell in love with the magician; he had this beautiful combination of professionalism and melancholy.
After the magician was done we went on a boat tour through the canals.

NY

Two

Two friends from New York, both were not born in the US, took me to a restaurant in Amsterdam I had never been to: Rem Eiland.
The views were spectacular, my friends who are foodies were less impressed with the food.
But as one of them said: “A restaurant is a Gesamtkunstwerk. The view is as important as the food.”

Strength

Too long

Steve Coll in The New Yorker on Assad:

"Political chaos and continuing violence after Assad seems almost guaranteed. A wide gulf has opened between the exiled political opposition and the commanders of the rebels on the ground; there are tensions between the Muslim Brotherhood and other groupings; and regional militias are establishing themselves as provincial powers. It is not likely that the United Nations or other outside mediators will be able to broker a smooth transition. It may be possible—and it seems as imperative as ever—to use the final crumbling of Damascus as a way to deliver full-scale humanitarian aid, perhaps under a peacekeeping mandate.
Some commentators have compared the conflict to Bosnia’s multi-sided ethnic war, which lasted from 1992 until 1995 and claimed perhaps a hundred thousand lives. Often, the Bosnia comparison is cited to support arguments against international intervention in Syria on the grounds that the war is too complex. But another reading of the Bosnian example is that the United States and European governments overestimated the military and political power of Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic for much too long. They misinterpreted Milosevic’s brutality as strength.
Something similar has taken place in the West during Syria’s uprising concerning Assad. He was always weaker than he looked. At last, we can see that he will go. The time has come to plan for how to support inclusive, stable politics and protect civilian lives when he is gone."

(Read the complete article here.)

Yes, perhaps Assad and Milosevic were weaker than they looked.

But more important, for quite a few democratically elected leaders in the West these dictators were just convenient. Until Milosevic gambled and lost and until Assad's own population couldn’t bear him anymore.

That quite a few of Assad’s officers defected to the rebels doesn’t mean that they will never torture again.

Stength

Too long

Steve Coll in The New Yorker on Assad:

"Political chaos and continuing violence after Assad seems almost guaranteed. A wide gulf has opened between the exiled political opposition and the commanders of the rebels on the ground; there are tensions between the Muslim Brotherhood and other groupings; and regional militias are establishing themselves as provincial powers. It is not likely that the United Nations or other outside mediators will be able to broker a smooth transition. It may be possible—and it seems as imperative as ever—to use the final crumbling of Damascus as a way to deliver full-scale humanitarian aid, perhaps under a peacekeeping mandate.
Some commentators have compared the conflict to Bosnia’s multi-sided ethnic war, which lasted from 1992 until 1995 and claimed perhaps a hundred thousand lives. Often, the Bosnia comparison is cited to support arguments against international intervention in Syria on the grounds that the war is too complex. But another reading of the Bosnian example is that the United States and European governments overestimated the military and political power of Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic for much too long. They misinterpreted Milosevic’s brutality as strength.
Something similar has taken place in the West during Syria’s uprising concerning Assad. He was always weaker than he looked. At last, we can see that he will go. The time has come to plan for how to support inclusive, stable politics and protect civilian lives when he is gone."

(Read the complete article here.)

Yes, perhaps Addad and Miosevic were weaker than they looked.

But more important, for quite a few democratically elected leaders in the West these dictators were just convenient. Until Milosevic gambled and lost and until Assad's own population couldn’t bear him anymore.

That quite a few of Assad’s officers defected to the rebels doesn’t mean that they will never torture again.

Neuf

Rio

Tonight I had dinner with my ex at Bistrot Neuf.
The food was good; the service was excellent.
My ex gave me a beautiful pair of flip-flops, straight from Rio.