Showing posts with label Norway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Norway. Show all posts

Friday, 19 June 2026

Friday Five: World Cup Wonderings Week One

The World Cup has kicked off and there is plenty to think about. I will not venture into the tactics of teams or specific match reports in these posts, and I will do my best to stay away from the politics of the Resident Evil. But there is plenty of other chat around the grounds.

Three lions in the crowd
  1. Ad breaks - call them what they are. The totally unnecessary, momentum-killing, three-minute intervals midway through the halves give the Americans what they have always wanted: a game of quarters for their attention-deficit, commercial-forward nation. They were understandable in Qatar (the fact that the World Cup was held there at all is a totally different proposition), but everyone knows they are not really for hydration here. The rest of the world despises them (the breaks; not the nation - we save that contempt for their president), and the fact the crowds at every game are boo-ing them is testament to their unpopularity. Maybe FIFA will take note of this, but probably not.
  2. National anthems - Scotland win, and I don't mean with Yes, Sir, I Can Boogie. I'm not a great fan of bagpipes, but they certainly make a noise. And I have to concede that when played well, they are a damn sight/ sound better than vuvuzelas. To be fair, those blowing and squeezing out Flower of Scotland in Boston are generally superb. Uruguay are a close second with a jolly, rousing number that makes one want to party. The New Zealand cry-for-help in song is a two-header. Everyone thinks it's finished after the Māori version and then are surprised when the English version kicks in - people might know the words to this bit, but they're bored by the end of it. New Zealand are the lowest ranked team in the tournament, so we're unlikely to hear it too often.
  3. The refs - Ref cam is fascinating. We can watch the match officials try to keep up with the game while staying out of the way, which doesn't look easy - they have to read the game to know where they expect the ball to go and then be near it but not in its path. The view shows what they see of the action and explains why they sometimes need to refer to VAR because their vision is blocked of a potential infringement. It's early days, but I think they're doing a good job, refusing to be swayed by histrionics and giving free kicks for obvious shirt pulls and trippings. 
  4. Tiny teams - The extended format of this tournament isn't to everyone's liking (I have questions, including why do some group winners play the second-placed finishers in the next round, while others get an apparently easier route against the best-placed losers?) but it does introduce new countries and their fans to the world stage - namely Cape Verde, Curaçao, Jordan and Uzbekistan. Curaçao (a nation with a population the size of Toowoomba) scored their first ever world cup goal against Germany, and one of the biggest talking points of Week One was when Cape Verde kicked off their first ever World Cup campaign with a point from a scoreless draw against fifth-ranked Portugal. And what's not to love about that?
  5. The crowds - Scotland (again), who have embarked upon a full-frontal love affair with Boston in which they have drunk the city dry, the mayor wants to twin town with Glasgow, and no traffic cones are safe. The colours are a riot - and perhaps fearing this, England fans have been told they cannot hang theirs at stadiums because they might - heaven forbid - cover up the advertising hoardings. See point one about the money-making-morality of this tournament. Apparently images depicting weapons are also not allowed (because we all know how strict Americans are about 'actual' gun control...) so a submarine on a Barrow AFC flag is forbidden entry. The flag of Haiti, however, bristling with six rifles, two axes, two cannons and two piles of cannonballs, is absolutely fine. If you haven't got a flag to wave, you can always hold a baby aloft. We only a week into this tournament and it appears that babies are the new must-have accessory as many folk seem to be thrusting at the cameras for air-time. No, sir/madam, I have no interest in your spawn; I would far rather watch the Norwegian team sitting down on the pitch to celebrate their victory by joining the fans in a Viking row. 

Wednesday, 14 September 2022

Ordering Chaos: The Mercies


The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave
Picador
Pp. 336

With echoes of The Crucible, The Handmaid’s Tale and My Antonia, this is a fascinating tale of how the women in a remote society cope after a natural disaster wipes out most of the male population. The novel begins with the (real life) sudden storm on December 24, 1617 just off the coast of the island of Vardø, Norway’s north-easternmost point, which caused forty fishermen to drown in minutes. The women are left to mourn and bury their dead, and to try to work together to survive, until ‘a stranger comes to town’ and changes everything, resulting in accusations of witchcraft and a (again, real life) ‘trial’ held on 29 March 1620.

At the outset, there are stories of the women working together at domestic chores, after their men have been lost at sea; they undertake soothing rituals of the home (bread making and sewing), but they must also put to sea to fish, and butcher the meat – things the menfolk did but they are no longer here. The action of rowing becomes a metaphor for cooperation which, despite personal differences, is essential for survival. “They pull together as men rowing a boat. It is a closeness born of necessity: they need each other more than ever, especially as food begins to scarcen.” Maren observes that there is a rhythm and a natural order to their society, which we know will be overturned, because that is the chaos that makes drama.

Women are expected to fit a mould, and they cause discomfort to others when they break out of it. Men from the mainland come to bury the bodies when the earth has thawed enough to dig. They wish to wish to control women; they dislike seeing women doing manual labour such as fishing and butchering, and they disapprove of them wearing practical clothing (trousers) to do so.

Absalom Cornet is appointed by Lensmann Cunningham to visit the island, with his new wife, Ursa, and hunt out any instances of witchcraft. The sense of unease throughout the novel is palpable, and the reader may be horrified at the ending but not surprised. Hargrave is portentous in her foreshadowing from Maren’s dreams of dead whales to more explicit warnings that the arrival of men, and Absalom Cornet in particular, will have dire consequences. “They imagine he will be like their minister, have as little impact as snow falling into the sea. They imagine that their lives will go on, and that the worst is behind them. They imagine all sorts of silly, inconsequential things, and every bit of it is wrong.”

Some of the women have relied upon ritual to deal with grief and help them to feel safe; in some cases using runes and leaving food out for trolls. Maren is comforted by the Sámi ceremonies of Diina, her sister-in-law. “She had believed it, because in those months she was grasping for something, anything, to order the chaos that the storm had set among them.” Many of the women submit to soothing domestic routines, rather than praying in the church to a stern deity. Ursa has been brought up with housekeepers and no idea how to provide for herself; when Maren teaches her how to bake bread, the description is sacramental.

The men also need to find order in the chaos, so they choose to blame witchcraft. The clear rift between the meeting house and the kirke women is embodied between Kirsten and Toril. Kirsten is stronger, but Toril speaks the right words to the church men and there is nothing anyone can do against the charge of witchcraft. The things by which they accuse the women of witchcraft are very mundane. “It reads like a list of women’s gossip, from arguments over fish-drying racks to saying the Lord’s Prayer backwards.” The women collude with the practice and find that once accusations of witchcraft begin, they are as impossible to stop as the weather. “Oh, God have mercy on us. We have begun it, and cannot end it.”

The arrival of the witch finder destroys everything the women have built, but his wife also leads to conflict from the moment she alights from the boat in her vibrant yellow dress so dramatically different from the drab outfits of the island women. Ursa and Maren seek physical comfort in each other’s arms, but not until their emotions have threatened to overrun them and left them dumb. Kiran Millwood Hargrave has taken the bare facts of witchcraft trials in a Norwegian island, and woven them into a most intriguing tale full of contemporary themes. The lessons of how an isolated community is broken by those wanting power are ringing loud and clear. 
Steilneset Memorial in Vardo, Norway, commemorating the trial and execution in 1621 of 91 people (77 women and 14 men) for witchcraft

Saturday, 16 October 2021

Friday Five COVID-19: More ISO TV


We're coming out of lockdown today - hurrah! While we will be cautiously allowed out to pubs, cafes and restaurants; theatres and cinemas are not operating at capacity so there will be more TV watched for visual input. Meanwhile, these programs have been on my recent watched list. 

  1. Atlantic Crossing (SBS On Demand) - A Norwegian/ American drama miniseries addresses the issue of trying to get Allied support for Norway against the Nazis, who had invaded their country in WWII. Allied intervention was not assured, as the forces were busy on multiple fronts, so while the King of Norway and the Crown Prince Olav were in England, trying to drum up European support, Crown Princess Martha took her children to the U.S.A., where she becomes the guest of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. because this is a drama, the script implies there may be more than friendship between these characters. Production values are sleek, design and costumes are exquisite, and the acting varies from subtle and inscrutable to histrionic. Soapy romance elements aside, the politics is fascinating to view from a different historical perspective.  
  2. The Head (SBS On Demand) - This Spanish-made, English-language psychological thriller ticks all my boxes; set in a snowy, cold location (The South Pole), a group is left in isolation as the Winterers remain at Polaris VI Antarctic Research Station to continue their research to assist in the fight against climate change. Immediately cracks begin to appear. Fast forward to six months later when the summer team return to find all the Winterers are dead or missing and there is a killer on the loose. Flashbacks indicate that everyone was shifty with a metaphorical axe to grind or a point to prove. It is logical, but I didn't work it out until the very end. It's like Agatha Christie on ice.

  3. Time (BBC First) - All praise the new three-part drama miniseries by Jimmy McGovern set in a prison, starring Stephen Graham, Sean Bean, Sue Johnston and Siobhan Finnernan. It's exactly as cheery as one would expect, but the acting and the writing is almost criminally good.
  4. Wentworth, Season 5 (ABC iview) - I'm a long way behind with this series - Season  5 finished in 2017, and Season 8 is halfway through (with filming interrupted due to COVID). It chucks in every prison cliché - don't go in the showers; get on gardening detail if you can; beware the butch lesbian; the kitchen deals drugs; most of the screws are bent, but it is one of few mainstream TV dramas that passes the Bechdel Test.

  5. War of the Worlds, Seasons 1 & 2 (SBS On Demand) - There are a lot of versions of this story. According to this one (produced by Fox Networks Group and StudioCanal-backed Urban Myth Films), if you send Nick Cave songs out into the cosmos, you might get invaded by aliens from the future. "I don't believe in an interventionist God" has never seemed so apt. The bleak and deserted landscapes are reminiscent of 28 Days Later or The Day of the Triffids, but Gabriel Byrne lends it a touch of gravitas, and the blend of English and French gives it a certain je ne sais quoi.