“After 70 years I thought we could start to recognize the reality of our families and how they behaved during the war,” Mr. Jardin tells me in an interview from Paris. “The core of the problem is that I have not spoken about monsters. My grandfather was not a monster. I have spoken about what ‘very nice people’ did in France when they accepted collaboration with Nazism. I did not realize I would provoke such anger. So long as we were putting authentic monsters on trial—like Maurice Papon for example—no one was worried. But to lift the lid on the question of the responsibility of people who were ‘moral’ during the collaboration has totally panicked French society.”
Reggae afternoon…
… Here in Starbuck’s, early afternoon is always given over to reggae, always either Bob Marley or one of his close friends. I would love to figure out how to make a complaint about this.
Hemingway Cats
Peter’s on spring break in Key West, and stopped by a house with a lot of cats in it.
Woodpeckers and, I hope, a hawk.
Annoyingly wet Spring morning, only two days into the season. The trees on the horizon look ever so slightly thicker in their bareness: the sap and the buds doing their stuff, just invisible to us yet, “us” being the largely untrained (okay, I’ve had some ornithology training by people who were just as happy … Continue reading Woodpeckers and, I hope, a hawk.
