Summer Slumber
And an accidental foray into the state of the world
There is no Edges & Entries today—I suspect the next one will be once we are home again, following our upcoming visit to my family in Scotland. I had actually not planned for a post today at all, time has been a little squished in the week since we returned from Thailand, and nearly all that time has gone to trying very hard to line up work which pays.
As I mentioned, Death In Harmony is queued through to the end of July, so if you are reading this serialised novel, have no fear, each new episode will appear neatly in your inbox at one minute to midday, French time, every Friday. I have had some lovely comments and feedback on this story, and really appreciate each and every one (even if many of them are saying just how tense and breathless it is. That was very much deliberate! Sorry!).
As I type this brief note, the sun has just appeared and a great tit has started singing outside. Weirdly, the call it has chosen is not too dissimilar to that of a myna bird, which made me pause for a moment.
I have not hidden the fact that this year has been tough, or that I know I am behind in the work I wished to share here, but sometimes I think we have to wait for the right season or, perhaps, we have to actually wait for the season to arrive. This grey and wet spring has yet to bloom into summer, even though it is trying very hard in this corner of the world.
In the last few weeks, just before and after our recent trip—it was not an issue in Thailand—I’ve been getting myself outside under the sunlight or, often, simply daylight. My study is east-facing and receives very little direct light even in summer, the window low to the ground and small. I have to make sure I get sunlight, feel that warmth on my face, allow the rays to enter my eyes and generally top up my solar batteries. This is at times an effort to remember, an effort to do. It is easier to simply stay hunched over my desk, lurking like a cave troll in my lair.
Soon, Ailsa will be going to school. There will be changes in our household, and I am already trying to plan ahead to make sure I lose no time for (all) work, for exercise, for nature, and for myself. I cannot switch my mindset or routine instantly, I have to build a structure one habit or idea at a time. This is how I am programmed.
I have removed as much of the background hum of world politics and news as I can, yet it still intrudes. The results of the first round of the recent French elections are a prime example. Knowing 105 people in our commune (county) voted for the far right is there at the front of my mind. That number is slightly more than one in three of those who were eligible to vote (with a 23.03% abstention rate), letting the Rassemblement national take the first position, with 44.68% of the cast votes.
As I walk around the village I say bonjour to all I pass. It is a small place, they all know me, even if I don’t know them, they all usually smile in return to my own. Yet one in three of my adult neighbours felt it was a good idea to cast their lot in with a party whose policies are, frankly, abhorrent to me. The RN are not fans of migrants, something I most certainly am. I have a carte de séjour, currently enabling me to stay in the country until 2026, then I will have to renew it, an act which might prove considerably harder or even impossible under a far right government.
The world is a place I find full of hope and wonder. I always try to find common ground with every other human I meet, yet the shadow of rising hatred is hard to escape. I do not want my daughter to grow up in a place ruled by those whose idea of politics is based around a false notion of greater times at the expense of certain groups. That is not what I believe France is, nor what any other nation should be.
Normally, I avoid talking about these topics this openly, and I suspect I’ll lose some subscribers for doing so, but I think there comes a time when everyone needs to look at the larger picture and say no, not in my name.
This corner of the world is famous for la Résistance française, especially the Maquis de l’Oisans, the brave individuals who took a stand against an invading force, who risked and often lost their lives in the defence of freedom and ideas which opposed those of the fascists. One of our neighbours still talks of how she and her family took to the woods when the Germans were retreating, knowing there would be reprisals against the locals. They stayed there for weeks, living wild, terrified.
Voting is just one part of our modern resistance to abhorrent ideas. The very fact that these parties have gained so much influence shows how something is very wrong with our politics. We value personal gain and worship those who accrue the most wealth, something which then enables fear of the other, hatred of those whose appearance or faith or language is different, and distrust of leaders who are (probably accurately) seen as puppets of powerful corporations and institutions.
Something needs to change. Something will give. And I hope this will be peaceful change, even if all the signs are pointing elsewhere.
Throughout recent years, it has become harder and harder for those of us who make a living in a creative fashion to actually do so. This is not something which just happened—it is deliberate. Those whose values include hatred of the other, those who want to accrue that mass wealth, they do not trust or value the artist or creative. They fear them, for there is truth in art. There always has been.
All of which is to say—we need to use our weapons when we can, keep them sharp, polished. Not the sword or the gun, but the pen, the brush and, above all, the mind. Words and images and ideas are a power beyond that of metal and hate. They are needed now, more than ever, and we need to rethink our collective, species-wide, future. Story is an important part of this: without fiction showing other ways of being, those ideas become too abstract.
There are other places on earth where the right, where those powerful corporations and greedy individuals are pushing for power and gain, but that is perhaps a topic for another day. Here, I am talking about my own existence, my own current home, my own direct observations. There is a lot to love about our neighbours, a lot to admire and respect, but I find it uncomfortable, wondering whose ideas of how we should treat each other sit so very far from my own.
For me, usually, I try and weave these topics into my fiction, into story. It is, as I am fond of saying, a time-honoured tradition, to corrupt the kids, as it were, to share what is real through what is not. Drip-feed decency and kindness through a character you cannot help but like and identify with. Demonstrate other ways to engage through a plot which keeps you reading into the night. I make no apologies for this, I think it is a duty of the author, even if their primary objective is to simply entertain. However, sometimes, like today, there is a need to say no, I do not like this, and I am willing to say so quite openly.
The world continues, it will continue, no matter what we do to ourselves. The struggle to heal the planet is not really about the planet at all—it is about people. And we will never heal each other and ourselves if we do not listen when we talk, if we do not engage and we do not consider, all without fear, prejudice, or hatred.
And that is where I’ll leave this. Thank you, if you made it this far—I had not actually intended to write this piece when I sat down, but it poured out instead, unbidden. Perhaps that is a good thing?
If you want to add to the above, do not hesitate to do so. I appreciate each and every comment.
And, if you think these words have a value or interest for others you know, do please share.
Many thanks for reading, I hope July is a kinder month for us all!
Scary in Canada too. The Conservative govt is leading in the polls. The govt that personally attacks individuals, even those who testify as experts in Parliament. Led by a career politician who has never had a real job or worked in the “real” world. Plus the climate crisis. What a time to be alive. Sending hugs.
America is scary, too, these days. I try to stay away from the politics because I don't want the added anxiety it causes me. I know burying one's head in the sand isn't the best idea, but sanity is important.