Painting Fakes

For some reason I've been listening to Paul McCartney's Silly Love Songs .   It's one of those songs that refuses to leave once it's in your head, even when you try to drive it out with lashings of punk rock or Pink Floyd. I didn't like this song when it first came out in the mid-1970s.  At the time I thought this was because it was silly and superficial.  I was a very serious teenager.  Now I think I was just too immature to appreciate it.  For a start, it's not as simple as it seems.  There's a lot going on beneath the surface.  A jaunty bass rhythm, a horn section counterpointing with lush strings, interwoven harmonies and counter-melodies.  McCartney was (and is) no fool musically. Then the lyrics provide a joyous piece of self-satire, as well as a cheerful poke in the eye for people like his ex-mate John Lennon who seemed to take the art of pop music a lot more seriously than he did.  He asks, "why not have fun?"  Lennon always seemed to

Over the past week I've been watching, in a half-hearted way, the coverage of the Commonwealth Games in Delhi.  Most of the world, even people in the Commonwealth, take no interest in this little colonial remnant.  Aussies love it because our athletes get to win a lot. So why am I only half-hearted?  I think the main reason is that Australian coverage of the event is so poor.  Australian broadcasters have determined (I'm not sure by what means) that Australian audiences are only interested in watching Australian athletes.  It's not that we just get to see events where Australians are competing.  It's that we only get to see the Australians, full stop.  For instance, an Australian, Fabrice Lapierre, won the mens long jump at these games with a jump of 8.30 metres - a full 60 centimetres shorter than Bob Beamon's 1968 effort .  Was this a surprise or was he the favourite?  Who did he beat?  Did he blow the field away with his first jump, or lag before coming thro

I've spent the last couple of weeks working my way through The Invention of the Jewish People by Shlomo Sand, a historian from Tel Aviv University.  You couldn't call it an easy read, as although well-written it's very heavy on scholarship, but it's certainly been worth the effort. His basic thesis is that the "Jewish people" is not a long-standing, distinct nation or ethnic group, exiled from its homeland and now returning, but a diverse group of people of varying nationalities united by their religion.  The concept of the Jewish nation was, on his reading, created by the Zionists from the mid 19th century onwards in the context of the rise of "nationalist" ethnic histories around the world and most particularly in Europe.  I'm not in any way qualified to assess his arguments, but I certainly found them compelling.  At risk of oversimplification, let me summarise. 1.  The early stories of Israeli history as presented in the Bible - the sto

Somewhere around 1971 or 1972 one of my dad's friends gave me a pile of English sports magazines.  It was one of the best presents I ever got, although I think he was just clearing out junk.  There was a set of something which may have been called Football Monthly , and a pile of something that could have been called Sports Illustrated although it didn't have any swimsuit models.  They spanned a period from 1967 through to 1970, including the 1968 Olympics and the 1970 World Cup, both held in Mexico. I read those magazines over and over again,  partly because I would read anything and partly because I loved sport.  I was still young enough not to be blase about the unfolding drama.  The writers speculated about who would win the World Cup and patriotically promoted England's chances.  Then they gushed about the brilliance of the eventual Brazilian winners, and mourned the moments that cost England.  They ran over the form guide for the blue riband events in the Olympics,

My relative and fellow blogger Luke recently floated the idea of an " Abraham line " - anything in Genesis before Abraham could be seen as mythical, anything after essentially historical.  Intense discussion followed. I've been thinking about a different kind of line.  In my late teens we had a guest speaker at our youth group on the subject of "cults". By this term, he meant those minority Christian sects who believe things outside Christian orthodoxy - Jehovah's Witnesses, Mormons, Christadelphians, Seventh Day Adventists and so on.  At one point in the discussion he made a distinction - one of these (I forget which) he regarded as Christian, the others not.  Various books on "cults" were doing the rounds and each of them had a different definition of a cult, and a different list.  Some included the Catholic Church, put in the non-Christian pile because it doesn't teach salvation by grace alone, and because it teaches idolatory in various

After my possibly over-long catalogue of quotes in which people give the church a caning, here's something more positive to warm your heart.  It comes from one of Australia's most celebrated alcoholics and writers, Henry Lawson . Several of the stories in his collection Joe Wilson's Mates feature the outback parson and missionary Peter M'Laughlan.  This is how he is introduced in "Shall We Gather at the River". I once heard a woman say that he had a beard like you see in some pictures of Christ. Peter M’Laughlan seldom smiled; there was something in his big dark brown eyes that was scarcely misery, not yet sadness – a sort of haunted sympathy…. Towards the end of his life if he went into a “rough” shed or shanty west of the Darling River- and some of them were rough – there would be a rest in the language and drinking, even a fight would be interrupted, and there would be more than one who would lift their hats to Peter M’Laughlan. A bushman very rare

As a teenager I read and loved Lloyd Douglas's books about Jesus, The Robe and The Big Fisherman.   When I say these books are about Jesus I mean they were set in Jesus' day, and he appears in them.  The Robe centres on the commander of the soldiers who are on duty at his crucifixion, while The Big Fisherman takes its title from the apostle Peter who is its main character.  Douglas, a devout Christian, did not attempt to portray Jesus in much detail.  Even in the story of Peter he is a distant, mysterious figure, unimpressive at first sight but profoundly affecting on closer encounter.  What motivates Jesus, what his inner thoughts are, what struggles he undergoes, remain a mystery.  Jesus in these stories is not a person, he is a presence, known almost exclusively by his influence on others. Jim Crace, whose other novels have been mentioned in this blog before, has no such reserve.  As far as I know he doesn't follow any Christian faith and if he does this novel does