Friday, February 24, 2012

Cultural Weekend

As we had winter tyres installed on our car, and as there's absolutely no need to have them on in Holland, neither legally nor meteorologically, we have decided to go to a place where the investment is justified. Thus, we'll travel this weekend to Germany, hoping to get stopped by the police and proudly show them our (almost brand) new tyres.

We're going to see some friends, so we'll have a deep and intense cultural weekend, primarily focused on literature. We're going to devour a few good books and then we'll be talking about the content of them. We already have a full agenda, so the logistic part plays an important role in the whole action.

First of all, we all have small kids and carrying out such actions in the municipal library is out of the question. Moreover, even without kids, there's a big issue going to the central library: it's far from home. Not necessarily when you go there, but surely when you come back. The intellectual process is so strenuous that not even it is highly recommended not to drive, but it's strictly forbidden. And the streets are teeming with callous people who'd step on your hands barely mumbling any excuse. Better stay at home, no doubt about it.



As for the logistics, we'll probably go in the morning to some book-shops and buy some representative books from the German classics. They are well known for the quality of their writings, but also for the volume of work. We'll go for the novels, those that come in thick bottles volumes, duly bound together in half a dozen sets. We'll start acquiring those novels treating the tenebrous traits of the low class people, trying to no avail to find some sun rays on their life. In short, the bitter ones. We'll go then to the war-like stories, the ones renewing the dreams of past glories - the terroir. And we'll probably finish the shopping going for the true-love stories: the white  novels, aka the weizen. Cause you know, once you go white, you never come back (whatever, you got it...)

Do not think of us exclusively as men of prose. Oh, no, no, no, we'll also have dedicated moments to celebrate the lyricism. I will provide the lyrical books from the old Flemish school, l'ecole flamande that is. They come in smaller volumes, but the message is of the same quality, only more cryptic, thus concentrated. We'll try to decipher the old Trappist monks writings, to embalm our spirit with their legacy.

And of course, in our debates we'll not forget to be grateful for living in a society in which culture is accessible, appreciated, and of a great quality. We don't live in the US, where modern literature is nowadays extremely diluted, literally speaking, and where it seems to be a severe censorship even for the imported one. Moreover, we're not Scandinavians either, to be forced to pay huge prices for books, so that we would be tempted to give up the literature habit sooner of later. We just have a perfect life.

After all these brainy activities, I wouldn't mind an intellectual hangover on Sunday morning. I just hope that my hangover won't have a hangover itself.

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