Denmark

Yes, Words Matter

BBC has a Poetry Season which means I am watching far more TV than I usually do. So far Gryff Rhys Jones has explored why poetry matters, the Orkney poet George Mackay Brown has had his own programme, and last night I got a full hour of Simon Schama and Fiona Shaw reading John Donne to each other (phoawr!). Armando Iannucci is looking at John Milton later on and, get this, there is an entire programme devoted to my favourite poet, TS Eliot. Thank you, Auntie Beeb. It is such a pleasure to listen to and experience precise language when the world is so full of imprecise language. Poetry matters because language matters.

Which is excatly why I find it so troubling that the Danish government calls their crackdown on Christiania (as well as the earlier eviction of Ungdomshuset) "a process of normalization".

A Lovely Land Is Ours

denmark09 From left to right, going clockwise: Copenhagen pedestrian street (Fiolstræde) with secondhand booksellers, quirky fashion and a Japanese supermarket; typical Danish pedestrian street in Holbæk with parked bikes (and bike helmets); Copenhagen City Hall tower; Mjølnir (Thor's Hammer) seen at an exhibition on amulets at the National Museum; cloudy skies over a field in north-west Zealand (note the characteristic gentle slopes); early Viking Age/Late Iron Age drinking vessel seen at the National Museum; some of the yarn I bought; and some sheep at the sheep farm just south of where I grew up.

Not pictured: the nineteen people I saw during my visit, the copious amount of delicious (and mostly organic) food I had, and the six yarn shops I visited.

As I wrote in my previous entry, visiting Denmark feels bitter-sweet. I feel so connected to Danish history - how could I not when I grew up in an area which has been populated since Pre-Historic times and where you interact with History everytime you go for a walk - and I love speaking Danish with its quirky pronounciation and lightly-nuanced intonation. I love Denmark and the Danish landscape. You are never far from the sea, the rolling hills have such gentle slopes and the woods are friendly and inviting. Denmark in spring is a beauty to behold.

It's just a shame that Denmark is populated by the Danes. This is when my problems with my nationality set in. Denmark is a tiny, tiny country with a huge ego. The average Dane truly believes he lives in the best country in the entire world and that right way to do things is the Danish way. He travels abroad and marvels at the idiotic way that other nationalities do things. He returns to Denmark, smug in the knowledge that all other nationalities envy him his Danishness. Paranoia sets in: because Denmark is the envy of all other nations on earth, Denmark must be protected from intruders. This has led to xenophobia, protectionism and a deep distrust of anything which is not readily identifiable as being Proper Danish Behaviour (such as preferring non-Danish cultural products, dressing unlike the masses, questioning rampant xenophobia or even criticising Denmark just like I'm doing here). I've always struggled to be a proper Dane and that was part of why I moved to Britain, I suppose.

So this visit was bitter-sweet. I looked with horror at how a key Danish MEP called for the exclusion of  Romania and Bulgaria from the EU on the basis of them being unhealthy and "less than clever". On the other hand, I really enjoyed the new Pre-Historic exhibition at the National Museum and I have found the bestest and nicest LYS in all of Denmark. And it was so damn good to see my family and all of my fantastic friends.

Conflicting Emotions

Being back in my native Denmark feels bitter-sweet. On one hand, I'm loving speaking Danish. It's really, really good seeing my loved ones. I am enjoying simple pleasures taking a walk around the beautiful countryside with its gentle rolling hills and soft green hues. The food is super-fresh and tasty. The streets are clean and public transport is a joy.

On the other hand, Denmark is populated by Danes. I need to write about my nationality and why I continue to have huge problems embracing my being a Dane - but I have limited computer time at the moment, so watch this space post-holiday. I have also received some upsetting news from Scotland, so I'm feeling a bit strange.

Long live retail therapy, then, and particularly the yarn shops. Today I went to a local sheep farm where I bought both some of their own "homegrown" wool as well as some beautiful 1-ply mohair/silk in stunning colours. Yesterday I went to a more traditional yarn shop and spent almost two hours looking through their inventory. I escaped with a sought-after pattern book and enough wool for a pullover. I also found a 1940s knitting book in a second-hand shop and it is proving a most educational/entertaining read.

Tomorrow looks to be another day of sunshine, excellent food and maybe a yarn shop or two..

If all time is eternally present ...

may-067A deadline has been and gone. Yesterday, in fact. So I can finally start thinking about packing for Denmark, buying Branston Pickle for my Danish friends (don't ask) and even post-Denmark things. As I'm flying out on Monday, you could argue it is about time.

I'm still torn on whether I should buy A.S. Byatt's new novel, The Children's Book, for my holiday or whether I should wait until I come back and will have actual time to read (isn't it funny how these things work?). Part of me wants to tear into it as soon as possible and another part of me wants to savour it. A new Byatt novel is always a cause for celebration, even The Biographer's Tale which I read travelling around New Zealand and cannot remember very well except for a faint pang of disappointment.

After the deadline was met yesterday I met up with Tigerlilith as she wanted my opinion during button shopping. We found the perfect buttons at Mandors where they also had the most stunning Liberty fabrics. Specifically this red/blue print called out to me - I was already visualising a 1930s inspired tailored shirt when I reminded myself that I need a new hobby like I need a hole in my head. A reminder I also needed last night when Kirstie Allsop was trying to wheel-spinning yarn on primetime TV.

Finally, I'm completely sold on Patrick Wolf's new single, Vulture, and the streamed bits I've heard of his forthcoming album, The Batchelor, sound amazing. My 2007 was soundtracked by his The Magic Position and if 2009 turns out to be soundtracked by him again, I shall be rather pleased.

(Title is from TS Eliot as per usual, you might say..)

Linkage

Link dump day! + Europe, Explained: a nice map which summarises it all for confused non-Europeans. + Puppets need puppets too. + Vegetarian-friendly roadkill carpet + The prettiest yarn shop in Denmark? I like my yarn shops over-stuffed, but if you like minimalism.. + Sweden has its own Etsy-like site. + This is a real film: Tiptoes stars Matthew McConaughey as a "normal-sized dwarf", Gary Oldman as his, er, dwarf-sized dwarf brother and Kate Beckinsale as the love interest. Peter Dinkdale features as a a crazy French radical dwarf. I kid you not. + 13 Alien Languages You Can Actually Read. + This is what happens when knitting gets serious. Like, REALLY serious. Sock Summit 2009. Check out the graphics. + Maia Hirasawa: The Worrying Kind. A stunning, stunning cover where I don't think you need to know the original to appreciate it. + Jar Jar Binks salad + British Library's treasures. You could spend an entire afternoon just faffing about (well, I could). + Field Notes. I covet. I covet badly.

Spinning a Yarn - Living History in Glasgow

may-001If you are in the Glasgow vicinity and stuck for what to do this bank holiday weekend, why not go down to Kelvingrove Museum? They have Living History visitors - including Joyce who would just love to show you her drop spindles, fleeces, naalbinding projects, and a very big loom. Yes, we had a great conversation which included endangered British sheep breeds, how to make naal-binded heel flaps and even how to use natural dyes on wool. Apparently I was her favourite kind of visitor ;)

The Kelvingrove Living History exhibition is free and runs until Monday the fourth Sunday. Apart from the very lovely Joyce, it includes falconry, archery, sword demonstrations, wolf hounds, amd fighting enactments.

(At the moment I'm actually pretty preoccupied by knitting and wool traditions. I've been looking into traditional North Atlantic patterns and wools and plan on picking up some Icelandic and Faroese wool when in Copenhagen. My conversation with Joyce reminded me that I need to pop into the National Museum of Copenhagen and pick up one of their naalbinding booklets. Knitting is more than just a pleasant hobby for me - it is also a way to (re-)connect with the past. Incidentally I'm also strongly considering getting myself a drop spindle now after speaking with Joyce. Don't blame me if you pay her a visit and you fall into the same trap. )