ESCape Magazine

Not Every Translator Has to Work for the EU: An Interview with Jarmila Fictumová

2009-03-19T00:33:00.002+01:00

During a pleasant meeting in the setting of our wonderful socializing and catering facility Krmítko, PhDr. Jarmila Fictumová talks about her early years with English and the new eagerly anticipated Translating track at the department and answers our questions about extracurricular activities as well as voicing her opinions about the institution of Facebook.

First of all, thank you for coming.

There is a new track at the department – Translating. How long did you spend working on this program before you opened it?

About two years I had a sabbatical and during that time we prepared the accreditation. The accreditation materials were submitted in September 2007 and approved at the beginning of 2008.

Do you feel there is enough interest on the part of the students? Are students queuing up?

We had nearly 70 applicants of which 40 were shortlisted and interviewed and 17 were accepted into the programme. The entrance exam took place in June. Next year the number of students accepted should be higher and a Translating programme will be opened at other departments as well – French, German and Russian.

What was the main reason for starting this program – was it because of the students or because you wanted to do it?

I think it is part of a more complex issue where the objectives are to ensure that university education be geared towards practical application and since we already have the teaching programme, we thought that a program for translators would be a good thing. There is one in Prague (the Institute of Translatology at Charles University) but I think this one doesn’t cover the needs of the common translator because most people who graduate from the Institute of Translatology have been trained to become interpreters in the higher echelons of the EU or perhaps interpreters for the government. Not much emphasis on everyday translating…

In your opinion, is it necessary – when considering whether or not to become a translator or interpreter for the EU – is it necessary to start focusing on building one’s career at the EU from the very beginning if you really want to be successful?

It is not necessary. It depends on each person, on what their goals or wishes are. If they want to move to Brussels or work inside the EU structures, they should be doing this but it is a long way and they would have to go to Prague and take the European Masters course or at least attend school in Prague anyway. What I think we want to do is train our students in actual translating, you know, maybe in companies, maybe prepare them for starting as translators for agencies. Mostly translators, not interpreters, although we offer an interpreting option; however, we’ve never had any wish to actually train interpreters.

So, do you think there are generally more or fewer good translators than there used to be?

Whether they are better or worse? It’s still the same, we only think that translation is more visible then it used to be because of TV productions, dubbings and all that. It’s hard to judge the translations that we cannot see unless we buy a product with some instructions for use that are nonsensical. It used to be – I think – pretty much the same many years ago, so there’s no real answer to that.

Can you tell us about your experience with working for and with the EU?

Actually I started even before the Czech Republic was a member of the EU and I joined the team of translators who translated EU legislation into Czech so that the approximation of law and legislation in general could take place. This was me working for the Office of Economic Competition here in Brno and later on for the Constitutional Court. Then I took part in a call for translators, a competition for external translators for the European Commission; I was accepted and this is what I did for four years. I finished last year for a number of reasons, one of them being that it simply was a lot of work, another one was the bureaucracy – there is always so much paperwork that I simply ‘didn’t meet the deadline’.

In 2008, Barrister & Principal published your book Angličtina: konverzace pro pokročilé: topic-based vocabulary for advanced learners. The book functions as a helpful tool for both students and teachers. Can you tell us more about it?

It is probably not right to say that it is my book, because it is not. I am probably the person who pushed it along all the time and it could be called my destiny, because I have been with the book since 1993 when it was first published in its original form as lists of vocabulary words only. And since then we’ve had a new publication at the State Language School and then another one, later on, because I was unhappy with it not being distributed around the Czech Republic as I had been promised before I left the State Language School. I thought it would be a good idea to prepare a new edition so that’s why we did this.

You – Mr. Long and Mr. Ceccarelli?

They gave me their consent, but basically the new edition plus the electronic support is what I did on my own back then, though it was made using the materials we prepared together as well as the work of nameless teachers from the language school who checked all the vocabulary and prepared the key and everything; on the other hand, we had another proof-reader form Barrister & Principal who went through the whole thing again to made sure that everything, all the contributions, fitted together.

Speaking of books, I am sure that all of our students know the book we call ‘the Bible’, I mean Don Sparling’s English or Czenglish? and that they would definitely be interested in the rumoured new, updated version. Is there a date set for finalising it? Are you working on it as well?

I am not, this is what Jakub Mareček started doing originally as part of his future BA thesis when he was still a student here, at our department. But since then, things have changed a bit because he has now been in Britain for two or three years doing his PhD – he is also a student of information science and that is why he has these two interests merging. I think that this is for him kind of a minor interest but he still feels that something should be done about the book as such. Matthew Nicholls was involved in the sorting out of the unnecessary items because we are trying to make it easier to work with and this is probably what Jakub also tried. He had also contacted Don Sparling, but he too has other obligations and is not particularly keen on working on the new edition either. So everybody knows it is necessary but there is no definite deadline for when it should be published. Right now, I think there is a new version, sort of, online and it is available to the students of the first year and they are welcome to comment on it.

And what about the higher years?

I think it ends with the first years now, because there is no formal teaching of Practical English anymore and the online course that we set up in an attempt to answer students’ questions how to prepare for exams does not include Czenglish anymore. It has the common mistakes, worksheets and stuff like that but none of that [English or Czenglish?] anymore. So it’s only the poor first year students who have to go through it.

So we will just have to wait a bit longer for the new version.

I suppose so, yes.

You once won the best teacher award at the State Language School here in Brno, is that correct?

It is true, it was before I left the Language school, it was a competition – all the teachers had to submit their applications and I was the lucky one who was chosen.

What did that award mean to you?

It reminded me of old socialist times, when we always had to participate in something, but on the other hand it was nice to receive the – I think – 5,000 crowns. That was a nice reward. And I put it on my CV (laughs).

How did you ‘get’ to English? What did you find particularly attractive about the fields of translating and teaching?

I had a very good teacher at the secondary school. I attended what was then Střední všeobecně vzdělávací škola at Slovanské náměstí (I am Královo Pole born, a patriot). She was my model and I admired her. She was in her fifties when she taught us and she saved a lot of money to be able to go to the United Stated for the first time in her life. And then she kept telling us stories about the sights and her experience and she never examined, she only gave very short tests, say one in each lesson. We were happy to study English because it was an experiment and it was every day, so you actually did not have to prepare because you remembered everything. It was excellent and that is why I chose to study this particular subject. I stayed with it and later on I did not want to go and study Russian, because I graduated in 1969 which was a year after the invasion and I just did not want to… My German was not very good at that time and I did not want to study here, at what was then the University of Jan Evangelista Purkyně so I went on to study at the language school – English and German. Part of the training for the state exam was also translation because it was the old fashioned method and I quite liked it. And then I studied a librarians’ school for two years.

That’s interesting, we didn’t find this information anywhere!

Yes, because I thought I would never make it to university anymore, I just wanted to do something with books. This was Vědecko-technické informace, and the computers weren’t PCs but two-room machines, monsters. But it was useful and at the end of the studies a friend of mine heard about the Prague School for Translators and Interpreters and she mentioned it to me and I said: “Well, I could try that”. In the end, I was successful and that is how I started thinking about translation and interpreting as my future. But later on, when I finished the school and at times even during the studies, I worked for the official American exhibit at the Brno engineering fair and came into contact with the secret police, which I did not like very much as you might imagine. Although I started my career as an interpreter for a foreign company, I finished a year later and decided this was not something I really wanted to do. Then I got married, had children and went to teach at the language school.

Working as a translator and teaching translation in English, you do need to know both the source and the target language perfectly. How do you preserve your Czech?

Well, the usual answer is that you should read books in Czech, which is not so easy because of time constraints. Right now I have to read a lot of books about translations and new books, because translation theory has expanded so much since I graduated, or since my doctorate anyway, that the twenty-year gap more or less must be filled. Because I also teach Current Events (AJ_CEEC: Současné události v anglicky mluvících zemích) I think that people should be interested, people who work with language and non-literary translation should be interested in what is going on in the world. I try to read Czech magazines like Reflex or Týden but I do not know if this is the best way to take care of our Czech, because sometimes the Czech used there is not very good. I do read Czech magazines and newspapers but I do not find the time every day; I used to subscribe to Lidové Noviny for the whole week, it is only Fridays now. I do get Pátek magazine and I do read something online as well. Unfortunately, I know Čapek would be better, or Vančura for that matter. So if anybody needs any recommendations I can offer them but it is only very rarely that I actually get to them.

So do you remember what the last Czech book you read was?

My last Czech book? I do not know, I really cannot remember.

You mentioned the new course Current Events, what is it about?

It’s about reading; reading about what is going on around the world, basically, though not only in English-speaking countries as it says in the title, because of globalisation.
It’s about being a critical reader: we are talking about bias, about new ways of reporting, blogs, various internet sources and we hope that by the end of this course the students will be able to distinguish between quality press and tabloids, or gutter press.

How do they students work in the course?

We would like them to be as active as possible, so they work in groups. Actually, we now started a new system, called learning centres, where each student is responsible for one part of the lesson and students move around, so these groups are not permanent: they get to work with different people in each lesson. Then there are permanent groups in which the students present and there are two sets of presentations – one is just a trial one and the final presentation is actually the exam. It is a group presentation, but it has to be very thorough.

Is it a new course?

No, it is actually not because the author of the course, Michael George, used to teach it by himself or with another English teacher at the Faculty of Education. Then I joined him there for maybe two years and we got more and more students from our department and we could not get the room there, so we moved the course here. Right now it is the two of us but this might also change in the future.

Are there many students from the Faculty of Education then?

Not so many, especially this term, it is a problem but we do get students from the faculty of Social Science and Faculty of Law so it is quite interesting. Erasmus students come as well.

We know that you became a grandmother some time ago, how do you feel as a teaching grandmother?

It is a bit difficult to have a four-day week; I baby-sit on Fridays because my daughter is finishing her MA diploma in French at the Faculty of Education and so she has classes every Friday. Only four more Fridays, but then she will have to work on her diploma thesis and so on. So then, you know, if I do not manage to do what I should be doing I have to work weekends, but I do not mind. I really enjoy being a grandmother – a full time grandmother on Fridays! (laughs)

Would you say you suffer from some sort of professional disease?

I think that’s inevitable: everybody who has been working, like me, for so many years, with texts, cannot resist the temptation. So any time I get something I start looking for mistakes. But actually I think it is probably possible to inherit this as well because my younger daughter is the same. So I guess maybe there is a predisposition in the family and otherwise I try to avoid other problems, if I know about them.

And there is one more thing. Nowadays, people keep in touch and communicate via internet, with the help of things such as Facebook. What about you, are you on Facebook?

I once tried it and this was probably because of my daughter, somehow. And since she is my namesake it’s a lot of fun (laughs) – because people mix us up. I hope she doesn’t mind. The whole idea of Facebook is fine but I just don’t have the time. And maybe because of my age, or I don’t know. And you can get addicted.

Apparently quite easily, so I am told…

Thank you for coming and finding the time for us and our readers in your busy schedule!

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It’s Canada, eh?

2009-03-19T00:30:00.002+01:00

When I was asked me to write an article about my stay in Toronto, I said yes instantly. Later on, it occurred to me that there was just too much to write about and I didn’t know which aspects of life in Canada to tackle and which not to; school, arts, people or food? I realized I couldn’t write about everything. And then I decided to take the stream of consciousness approach and try to write about everything that came to my mind. Good luck to all you readers!

Studying

I came to Toronto as a PhD student in September 2008. I ended up at the Graduate School for the Study of Drama, at the University of Toronto. As a full-time student, one gets a student ID which is a crucial element in a student’s life. It gets you to the library (where you can get any e-journal or article you can think of) and it also gets you discounts for cultural events (mostly theatre and art exhibitions). The University of Toronto has a high standard of teaching and being a PhD student involves much more work than in the Czech Republic. PhD students get a yearly fellowship and are paid for each extra task (this includes teaching, testing etc). Thus they have time to focus on their research and if they want to earn more money they do some extra work at the department. It is a very good thing as they become highly qualified people who can then work at any university they like. Courses at the graduate level are demanding and thus students usually take about three or four of them per term, as it is they who do most of the work (and not the teacher). I will not comment on the situation in the Czech Republic as obviously this is a financing issue. I still hope for change though!
Concerning work permits, as a European student you can get one only after six months of full-time studying. All in all, it takes about seven months to start working legally.

Life

I am very thankful to Dita Trckova who put me up for a few days after my arrival. After a few days of stressful searching for a place to stay, I finally sublet a room west of campus. My new place wasn’t that close to campus and so I immediately bought a bike and biked the whole autumn. It’s winter now and in -15°C biking becomes nearly impossible; luckily I moved much closer to campus and I can walk now. I’d say that rent is probably the biggest expense in Toronto (along with alcohol) and it depends on where your place is located (ranging from $500 to $800 per month). Toronto’s public transport system is supposed to be the best in Canada. In my opinion it’s certainly better than in Montreal; however, many European cities could beat it.

The Food

Toronto is a great place to stay if you like big, multicultural cities. You can taste any cuisine you like, including fusion food - just across from my house there is a Hungarian and Thai restaurant (don’t ask me why they fused these two cuisines but the goulash there is not bad at all). My most favorite is Asian cuisine, which is spectacular and cheap here (you can get a Thai, Szechuan or Japanese meal for $7).

The Arts

Toronto is a place that never sleeps and so if you want to inspect all its aspects, you better have a good deal of money on you (meaning the fellowship is just not enough – it pays your rent and that’s it). There are festivals every week (film or theatre), concerts, shows, exhibitions and readings every day. The prices range from $10 to $30. In September, when I came, the TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) was already on, which, together with Berlinale and Cannes, is the biggest film festival in the world. So because it was too late for me to get accreditation, I had to go and buy tickets which weren’t all that cheap ($20) and that’s why I didn’t get to see much. Now, there is the Rhubarb Theatre Festival going on and the documentary film festival HotDocs is approaching, so maybe if I volunteer, I’ll get to see some things for free… All in all, you can’t get bored in Toronto, but be prepared to spend a good deal of money.

In conclusion, if you are a person who is looking for culture, arts, good food, people and studies at the same time, Toronto is your city. But if you are a person looking for a quiet place to study, never go to a big city because sooner or later it will get on your nerves. It’s loud, crowded and you don’t get to see the outdoors much. And I’m just lovin’ it.

Michaela Pňačeková

Me and My Monkey

2009-03-19T00:22:00.003+01:00

In case you haven’t noticed, ESCape has a completely new and trendy look and of course we’d like to break the news to you now! The whole story began when we realized that our dear little logo monkey was getting older and smaller and becoming gradually more and more invisible day by day. We need you to know about us! As our chief and the only man in ESC did not like the idea of us using his own photo, we organized a competition for graphic designers, asking them to create a new logo.

We liked the chosen logo so much that we asked the designer to join our team. Now he is in charge of our entire new look: posters, leaflets, invitations and even the magazine you are holding in your hands… ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you our new graphic magician and his work!

Jakub Horský (22) – 195/90 – lives in Hradec Králové, where he studies Graphic Design and Multimedia. Besides graphics, he plays several instruments in a jazz/latin/blues music band called SCD (Something Completely Different) and is a founding member of theatre group Meruňková po prsa. You might meet him in say Estonia, Burma, Thailand, England or a few other parts of the world, as he likes to travel a lot. He might have had Lo’Jo, Morcheeba, Amy or Tata Bojs playing on his MP3 and pancakes with spinach and blue cheese on his plate… When working out the logo deal, he first tried to sell us a smooth collie puppy instead of the logo, as he runs a breeding farm with his mum, but we finally made a deal and what’s more, he even answered a few questions.

Co všechno vlastně grafik umí, spíše co by měl v ideálním případě umět – co je to za profesi?

Označení grafik je v poslední době velmi skloňované a také diskutabilní. Lidé si pod tím většinou představují člověka, který u počítače pracuje s photoshopem a jde ruku v ruce s reklamou a konzumem, ne výtvarníka. Z onoho označení už skoro úplně zmizelo kouzlo a důstojnost všech geniálních výtvarníků-rytců, Rembrandtem a Hollarem počínaje, Anderlem a Boudníkem konče. Dřív si grafik nemohl jen tak stáhnout program a chrlit na veřejnost cokoli. Bylo to složité a velmi ceněné řemeslo a grafik musel být v první řadě vynikající výtvarník a schopný řemeslník, ať už pracoval na volném grafickém listu, ilustraci nebo knize.

Je i v jednadvacátém stolení grafik řemeslníkem?

No, to samé by podle mého mělo platit i dnes, i když kovové desky a lisy nahradily ve většině případů počítače a digitální tiskárny. Grafik by měl být především výtvarník, vizionář a inovátor, měl by mít v oboru vzdělání a být zručný ve všech technikách ať už je to navrhování, tisk nebo jiné médium. Zkrátka aby to řemeslo plně ovládal a zamezilo se tak vzniku nekvalitních kýčů, které jsou kolem čím dál častěji k vidění. Pak může dělat s trochou nadsázky cokoli, co jde vytisknout, potisknout nebo dát na internet či do televize, a zaujmout diváka něčím výtvarně hodnotným a zajímavým. Rozhodně je na celý život dostatek čeho se učit.

Je dnes ještě vůbec možné dělat grafiku bez počítače?
Samozřejmě, to je právě ta klasická ryzí grafika v pravém slova smyslu. Těžko se jí ale člověk může v dnešní době věnovat na 100% kvůli neprodejnosti. Co je dnes ale hodně používané mezi výtvarníky, je kombinování klasických grafických technik s digitálními.

Čemu dáváš přednost – pracuješ více s počítačem nebo s tužkou a papírem, barvami?

V mém případě každý nápad začíná vždy s blokem a tužkou v ruce. Když na něčem pracuji, kreslím si vždy a kdekoli co mě právě napadne. Nejlépe se mi přemýšlí venku, nejlépe za chůze, a tak jsem občas k vidění na obrubníku nebo v kavárně s blokem a fixkou v ruce… Doba si ale samozřejmě žádá precizní finální výstup v digitální podobě.

Máš oblíbené programy?

Nejčastěji k práci používám programy ze sady Adobe creative suite, zejména Illustrator.

Jaká je tvoje specializace?

Jelikož jsem stále student a tím pádem nedochůdče „grafik“ na volné noze, nemůžu si moc vybírat. Nejčastěji dělám návrhy logotypů a vizuálních vzhledů, plakáty, úpravy publikací a návrhy webů. Reklamě se straním. Hodně mě v poslední době bavilo vytváření bookletu CD hudební skupině či knižní ilustrace, takové nabídky ale bohužel denně nejsou a jsou pro grafika spíš svátkem a oproštěním od trendových věcí kolem.

Na čem v současnosti ještě pracuješ?

Z těch větších věcí jsem například na začátku letošního roku se svými návrhy vyhrál výběrové řízení na grafickou spolupráci s Českým svazem ochránců přírody, kteří u příležitosti 30. výročí svého vzniku budou v roce 2009 vydávat spoustu publikací a pořádat různé semináře. Potřebují proto nové logo a look celé této akce.
Jinak spolupracuji například s Hradeckým muzeem a budu se v nejbližší době podílet na zpracování multimediální publikace a katalogu k nedávno ukončené rozsáhlé výstavě o historii katedrály sv. Ducha a Hradecké diecéze.
Samo sebou je tu také práce do školy a pár drobnějších věcí, jako občas různé návrhy webů nebo plakáty. Když zbude čas, rád se věnuji volnější tvorbě pro sebe „do šuplíku“, zejména klasickým grafickým technikám jako jsou linoryty, lepty a ruční tisk.

Jak si se dostal ke spolupráci s ESC?

Čechy jsou malé, přes kamarády.

Kde se vidíš za pět let?

Sny jsou, teď ale žiju realitou. Rád bych zúročil své zkušenosti z grafického oboru na některé z dalších výtvarných škol u nás případně v zahraničí, takže určitě ještě pár let studium. Rád bych také ještě absolvoval alespoň jeden zahraniční studijní pobyt.

Na podzim jsi byl na Erasmu v Nitře – proč právě tam?

Z části to byla náhoda, měl jsem na výběr z více destinací. Nitra ale byla pro mě známá svým precizním přístupem ke grafice, takže byla favoritem. Atelier tam navíc vede proslulý prof. Ľubomír Longauer, což je žijící legenda slovenského i evropského grafického designu. Nakonec se s kusem štěstí zadařilo a mohl jsem v onom atelieru strávit neuvěřitelně nabité a inspirující čtyři měsíce.

Splnilo Slovensko tvá očekávání? Jak se studium v Čechách a na Slovensku liší?

Očekávání Slovensko splnilo několikanásobně. Systém studia byl v podstatě stejný jako u nás – denní docházka plus plnění zkoušek a zápočtů za kredity. Přístup profesorů byl ale až neuvěřitelně otevřený a tak nějak svěží. Byli pro každou „špatnost“ a dávali mi obrovský prostor k čemukoli, u čeho jsem projevil sebemenší iniciativu. Kromě nových neocenitelných zkušeností z oboru jsem tam získal také spoustu skvělých přátel a poznal nádherné historické město, takže Nitra jistě bude od teď místem, kam se budu v životě rád a snad i často vracet.

Co si myslíš o vystavování prací v galeriích?

Jen to nejlepší. Jako ostatně o vystavování prací vůbec. V poslední době se k vystavování používá i mnoho různých alternativních prostorů – například v Nitře to byl atomový kryt, výtvarníci spolupracovali s prostorem, přizpůsobovali mu svá díla nebo přímo vytvářeli díla pro něj. Fandím všem prostorům k prezentaci výtvarna, klasické galerie nevyjímaje.

Co zajímavého se dá tedy letos na jaře vidět?

Od půlky března bude v Hradecké galerii moderního umění výstava české grafiky 60. let – struktury a exprese. Brňákům určitě doporučím monumentální retrospektivu Alfonse Muchy ve Vídni.

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Pozn. red.: V prostorách divadla Reduta probíhá do 27. 3. výstava studentů Ateliéru Grafiky a vizuálních komunikací ak. mal. Margity Titlové-Ylovsky FaVU VUT v Brně a jejich hostů. Vstup volný, zážitek nevšední.

Více kulturních tipů na vyžádání: jakub.horsky@email.cz, ukázky práce: www.jakubhorsky.cz, popřípadě krátkosrsté kolie: www.flyingear.eu.

Literature is an Effective Tool for Teaching -- An Interview with Klára Kolinská

2008-12-06T13:16:00.009+01:00

“What I miss about Canada? Being called ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’ and ‘dear’ by people I barely know!” says Klára Kolinská who had studied over the ocean for two “blessed” years, often goes back, but otherwise teaches literature at Charles and Masaryk Universities. Students may know her from seminars where she often creates an atmosphere in which everything and everybody is challenged. No idea is left to its own, everything is constantly being questioned. In the following e-mail interview Klára talks, among other things, about why she likes teaching literature, and about the very purpose of university education.

Have you ever given an interview before?
I have, actually, a couple of times. Once I even got flooded by phone calls from journalists eager to get one: it was right after the Nobel price announcement for Orhan Pamuk in 2006, which happened to luckily coincide with the first translation of Pamuk’s work into Czech – it was his Istanbul: Memoirs of a City, translated by my humble self. That was fun. And one of the most interesting interviews that I gave was for the Canadian CBC radio in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Not only did I meet there with wonderful, and admirably competent people, but the experience showed me how much radio still means for the Newfoundlanders; it is, essentially, an indispensable connecting element: I couldn’t believe how many emails I got after the interview, from people I had never met before, people who wanted to meet me, share their expertise, and/or find out what the heck I was doing there for real. I even got an invite to a Thanksgiving turkey dinner from a (lovely!) stranger!

Do you like giving interviews?
Eh – the invitation always feels a bit awkward, in the sense of, “What do I have to say? Do I have anything to say at all?” but then in the end, when it comes to it, each time there has been something interesting about it – for me, while I cannot speak for the audience!

What do you like about your job as a literary teacher?
The fact that literature is a particularly effective tool for teaching – or, rather, showing – people how to think properly, that is, with clarity, consistency, and discipline. It is so because literature has no other purpose, apart from the aesthetic function. And working with smart students that get this, value knowledge and want knowledge, is extremely rewarding. Right now, for example, I have been observing the progress of a couple of students from last year’s first year, and that’s given me more joy than they will ever know (thank God!).
Moreover, I get a lot of free hand in setting up my courses; meaning I can apply my own preferences, test what works by myself, and largely do what I want – honestly, who can say this about one’s job?

You fly to Canada quite often, what do you love about it? Is there something that you miss when you come back to the Czech republic (and vice versa)?
True, I miss Canada a lot, and not only dear friends that I have there. I went to graduate school there for two blessed years, working on a Comparative Literature degree, and I’ve been back a couple of times on research grants – these are always luxurious times of getaway from the routine, of focusing on one’s research, and of uninfringed work on one’s own growth. When I go there for a month, I always come back rested, and with enough research material to last me a year – till I go again!
Also, being a “visiting scholar” gives you a special status, at least in Canada. People are super kind, and super helpful, and they let you know that they want you to have a good time. Canadians are generally very nice and polite people, which makes their country logistically very “easy to use”. What I miss about Canada? Being called “honey”, “sweetheart” and “dear” by people I barely know!

Would you like to live there?
I can imagine that – if I had a purpose there. Honestly, who needs a Czech teaching CanLit to Canadians? Leaving the personal aside, it makes more sense doing it here, doesn’t it?

When are you planning to go there again?
In the summer – can’t wait for the prairie heat!

And back to Czech Republic. What can you say about teaching in Brno and teaching in Prague, what is different, what are the students like in each of these places?
I’m wary of generalization here. What with accepting so many students, we get a whole range of talent, capacity, and competence. What I’d very much like to see is more competitiveness, and belief in a higher status of a university degree by the students themselves. Making successful graduation a thing almost for granted for students beats the very purpose of university education, and is about to turn against us all. Jamie Oliver, the famous cook, has very interesting, and surprisingly sensible, things to say about this: in Britain these days, everybody has a university degree, but nobody knows how to repair a car (or how to cook, for that matter) properly. While being aware of generalization, I get a sense that in Prague, at Charles University, students have not (or haven’t yet) lost the sense of the value of who they are as students of an institution with such a tradition. Most of them are very educated people and great thinkers, they work amazingly hard, and force the teacher to work a little harder yet – which is great!

What kind of authors do you enjoy reading?
If you mean reading for sheer enjoyment, I prefer reading texts to reading authors – which is precisely what reading for enjoyment allows, as opposed to reading professionally, when we sometimes need to “read the authors” (which in many cases in not fun).
Among relatively recently discovered texts that have given me joy are Orhan Pamuk’s amazing novel My Name is Red (available in very good Czech translation – not by myself!), equally beautiful The Bastard of Istanbul by a French-Armenian-Turkish Elif Shafak (looks like I have a thing for the Turks!), a gorgeous play West Moon by an almost unknown Newfoundlander Al Pittman; then the old acquaintances would be carefully selected magic realism, such as Laura Esquivel’s Like Water for Chocolate and Borges’ short fiction, and an absolutely perfect novel Fall On Your Knees by a Canadian Ann-Marie MacDonald (available in Czech translation as of next January!)
Then the older I get, the older stuff I read – St. Augustine, haiku poetry, and, here’s a recommendations for all English students: have you already gone through Beowulf in Jan Čermák‘s translation, which is the best rendition possible?

What do you think about Czech literature and its position in the world? Do you read any Czech authors?
I make a very poor nationalist; to be frank, I don’t believe that Czech literature has any particular position in the world – with the exception, perhaps, of Havel’s plays, but then here the reasons are not merely literary. As a national literature, it is a very small one, after all, and what it needs is a good reality check! And I don’t think that it necessarily should have any remarkable position in the world: literature should be read and appreciated when it is good literature, not because of who wrote it: whether it was a Czech, a woman, a particularly troubled person, or any other differently localized and contextualized individual, is irrelevant, and secondary to the text itself. The opposite view, if fashionable, is profoundly limiting and intellectually unsound.

You teach several courses about native literature, what do you like about it?
I think I know what you are getting at with “native” – but, to be precise, every literature is “native” to something! ;-)
About teaching Canadian Aboriginal literature, what works here is that it provides almost ready-made case studies for argumentation; it is, simply, extremely teachable, and certain things are more transparent there. And it provides a great variety of forms, genres and perspectives – in a sense, just like any literature that deserves of the name; the examples might as well come from elsewhere. But students tend to connect to the Aboriginal literature very readily, for reasons that we all know about – which, in teaching, is a great time-saver!

Klára at the Canadian Ambassy in Prague in 2007 with some Canadian playwrights, Canadian Ambassador Michael Calcott and a translator Miroslav Jindra:
Daniel David Moses, Ian Ross, M. Calcott, Tomson Highway, M. Jindra and Klára Kolinská

A slightly more personal question - is there something in your life you are really proud of?

Not really – maybe I’m still young, after all! When I have received compliments though, it has been on things that I myself take for granted, things that everyone should try for. Or on things that, instead of being proud of, I felt grateful being part of: like I am extremely grateful for the privilege of cooperating with Miroslav Jindra, the grandest of Czech translators, and my dear teacher and friend, on translational projects; or I am grateful, and very happy, that last weeks’ festival of Canadian Aboriginal theatre, “Indian Fall”, that I co-produced, was such a sweeping success!

We have not spotted you at the Halloween party this year, unless you were disguised really well! Are you maybe planning to attend the upcoming Christmas Party?

No disguise – never mind a good one. I am an academic tramp, constantly moving from one niche to another, and challenging the horizon. The trouble being that I cannot always make it to everywhere that I want to be.

And the last question - what can you tell us about “černá smrt”?

The only proper, and utterly ladylike, way to die. For further references, consult Jana Přidalová.*

-sš-, -lf-

* The ESCape Magazine contacted Jana Přidalová, a former student of the department and a current research student at the University of Leeds, and here is another hint:
To add a little bit more to Klára's definition (as all words have more than one meaning), it is utterly dark, unexpectedly amusing and it has already infiltrated Prague. Indeed, our metropolis is very proud to have become the first proper place where you can encounter it. For further references concerning spreading of "černá smrt" in Brno and a more northern part of our country, namely Ostrava, consult Markéta Polochová.

Jana Přidalová

South, North or Center?

2008-12-06T13:05:00.010+01:00

Ever since I started university everybody has been telling me that I have to go for Erasmus exchange. It’s an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and it would be a shame not to go for it. So studying abroad – yes – but where? The choice is quite wide nowadays and you will most likely end up satisfied wherever you go but if you want to avoid mismatched expectations and initial disappointment you should take into consideration at least few things before you fill out the desired destination on your application.

The first thing to consider is the language spoken in the country of choice. Is language skills improvement among your reasons for travel? Then you should choose a country with a language that you probably would be able to learn within 1-2 semesters. Let’s be realistic, you won’t speak fluent Greek or Danish after 5 months but you might have a strike at Spanish or Polish or any language you have studied before.

Surroundings of Bodø

Another major issue is your attitude towards the studying itself. In general in the south of Europe you can expect kind of a “slack attitude” towards your school obligations and lot of free time. In the north you might be required to do much more then you are used to but you will most likely be rewarded with greater possibilities and interesting challenges. So be honest with yourself: do you really want to go to study or just experience? I’ve been to the south (Spain), I’ve been to the center (Slovakia, Czech Republic) and now I’ve been to the north as well (Norway) so I know what I am talking about. Of course, there are exceptions and the best way is to ask someone who has actually been to the uni you are thinking about so here’s my account.

Thanks to the friendships built in Spain I got a chance to visit Høgskolen i Bodø, Norway. This school is not on the list of our department but University of Oslo is and you can expect similar conditions there since the school system in Norway is governmentally regulated and you must have the same conditions guaranteed everywhere in the country.

First of all the language: there is no chance you will speak fluent Norwegian in 5 months unless you are a genius and/or already speak Swedish, Danish, Iceladic or at least very good German combined with strong language intuition and knowledge of linguistics and phonetics at the level of a specialized master student. This language is just plain crazy with hundreds of dialects and pronunciation marked with those funny little things we didn’t even have to learn for the first year exam in phonetics because English doesn’t have those sounds at all. But that won’t hinder your studies or social life much since virtually everybody, and I mean it, speaks at least some English, many are fluent. Kids from the age of 9-10 to 50-years-old shop assistants (50 years ago – that’s when English started to be compulsory for everybody for 11-13 years!! during their elementary and high-school education).

Then the study conditions: most of the subjects are worth 10 or more credits so you don’t have to slave in 10 different subjects in order to get to the next semester. Don’t be mistaken though, you will be required to work hard but in just 2-4 specialized subjects so you will actually have time to read what you should for all of them (if you try) and you have a high chance that you will learn many new and interesting things. Exams are said not to be that difficult but I cannot tell yet. On the other hand you are required to work on your own a lot. Research, interview specialists, read, write – way beyond the curriculum books. Bad thing compared to MU is that you have to buy almost all the books and materials. There isn’t anything like elf with scanned materials and even the library (although very modern and beautiful) usually has only 1-2 copies of each book. So it’s not cheap to study here even though the education itself is free of charge.

Huge advantages: attitude and modern equipment. The administrative staff is very helpful in everything you might need. You can’t find your classroom? The information desk person will print a map for you. You want to copy or print something? Just beep your card – you have 100 NOK (300 CZK) on it per semester as a gift. You are not sure whether the subject you would like to have is combinable within your field of studies? Go to one of the study advisors and they will tell you, give you alternatives and point out possibilities you had no idea about. (Personal experience: advisor: “What are your interests?” me: “I study English and I like teaching.” a: “Hmm, we have English didactics here as part of a different program but just go to this teacher and ask if she would take you and I will add it to your program.”) Can you imagine that available to every student all the time? Of course, at MU you can combine things if you manage to get all the exceptions and more importantly if you manage to find the interesting things in the jungle of web pages of different faculties and departments. What’s different is the attitude: the study advisor is here for you and wants to help you without letting you know that you are bothering him/her with your stupid questions.

Saturday afternoon in the library (for picture taking only, of course)

And a bonus: the school is open for you 24/7. Just beep your card, punch your code and you can roam the corridors at 1am Sunday night. Of course the entry to some rooms is restricted but you can enter most of the classrooms, computer rooms, laboratories, study section of the library, etc. You can even rent parts of the school for personal gatherings (such as one section of cantina for a good-bye party with your friends) or you can book a study room to have quiet and isolated place to work on your group assignment. Naturally, there are plenty of computers everywhere, wireless network, each classroom has several plugs available for your laptops and the lecture rooms have plugs under each seat. Almost every classroom also has data projector and screen. Some rooms have much more things I can’t even name… Even though MU is very well equipped compared to many other universities in the “central post-communist Europe” there is still room for improvement.

How about finances? North is definitely expensive. Oslo is said to be the most expensive city to live in within Europe. Food, accommodation, books, (alcohol) are 3-4 times the price you are used to in Brno. South of Europe is not that bad, but it’s not cheap either (more or less twice the prices in Brno). So if you want to save money, stay at home; if you want to have priceless experience go out…

Lenka Papšová

Halloween Party 2008 Report

2008-12-06T12:55:00.005+01:00

Dead nurse, headsmen, witches and lots and lots of bloody ghosts (not bloody like bloody, not THAT!... but bloody because they were slaughtered with a motor saw or shot dead or pierced through with kitchen knife or ripped apart by werewolf or hanged on a barbed wire or…something or other of that sort).

Sure it is a Halloween Party 2008 I am talking about! And if you haven’t seen either dead nurse or headsmen or witches or lots and lots of bloody — don’t panic, I won’t be repeating it again — then it means that you still move all around the department in a blessed oblivion thinking that those you meet are rational, independent, thoughtful human beings (btw has anyone actually ever seen anybody fitting into this category?!?) when in reality they are not.
Dead bodies, all of them!

Yet, they are all proud to be what they are and celebrate each successfully survived year together on the Eve of All Hallows. This year the party took place on October 28 at Club 14 where, among other things, the “freshly buried were officially welcomed at out deadly department”. By the head-body, of course. The party was hosted by the respected Matthew Nicholls who again rests in peace at our department.

Those fun-loving ones could take part in competitions, such as pumpkin carving or speed eating of the creamy miniatures of their dwellings and those who were so fortunate as to be the possessors of taste even after dead enjoyed various earthly liquids in company of friends.
Don’t you think that dead bodies lack energy to dance (or rather rattle) on the dance floor! Nothing’s better to start ghost up than little sweet coffin washed down by pint of beer ;)
And so we have once more celebrated that sacred day of ours…

-jš-

For more pics of the event see:
http://picasaweb.google.com/esc.english/HalloweenParty2008#

Peklo in Městské divadlo Brno

2008-12-06T12:53:00.001+01:00

I have to be careful no to use a silly cliché when commenting on the latest musical of the Městské divadlo Brno. It is so tempting to play with the title, as the experience was really infernal.
Peklo, by duo Stanislav Moša (director) - Zdenek Merta (music), is a piece of work in the spirit of the present trend on our musical scene, which is based on expensive setting and costumes, professional singers and dancers in the service of a dull plot, which is in an ideal case an adaptation of a well-known myth (see the dramaturgy of the Prague Hybernia or Karlín Theatre).

The plot tells a story of two sisters, who want to became prima ballerinas, but only one of them is successful. The other one falls on the bottom of society stereotypically characterized by an electronic music and a hooded bunch of drug-addict adolescents. The successful one becomes a beloved wife of a rich and cruel aristocrat, whose ex-wife committs a suicide (on the scene, of course). The aristocrat wants a statue of his new wife, who falls in love with a sculptor, who is considered to be a gay at first…than comes a murder by mistake followed by a change of identity and, of course, a happy ending. Well, it seems like someone has squeezed 365 soap opera episodes to a 3-hour show (yes, 185min!).

The setting is grandiose. The stage is permanently full of some columns of violet cloth; there are lights and even dancers inside them. Beside that, there are coulisses of the dancing hall, hovel, aristocratic chambers, even ultra-detailed funfair or a huge glass cube – an imprisonment for the sculptor. The actors are wearing spectacular costumes that change in every scene. Everything is made on effect, to impress the viewer by its splendor.

It is almost unbelievable that dancers find some space for their performance, but as they do, they dance very well together, moving like a single body. Singers are very good as well, even though the songs are almost the same all the time. The whole production seems to me as a waste of talent and money, since it looks very expensive.

Peklo is the first episode of the trilogy called Osudová komedie. How diabolic will be the following two, will see the one who is willing to pay 560 Kč for a ticket.

-bd-

MDB: Peklo
By Zdenek Merta, Stanislav Moša
Direction: Stanislav Moša
Stage design: Jaroslav Milfajt

Interview with Michael Kaylor

2008-10-20T16:34:00.002+02:00

Where are you at the moment of answering our questions?
Actually, I am typing this in my office, though I should be at home, packing my bags and trying to find my passport … since Estonia is calling! Tomorrow I fly north, in the opposite direction to the birds.

What was your summer holiday like?
What summer holiday? When you are attempting to produce a book or two a year, there is never a holiday. One of my mottos is “I’ll sleep when I’m dead!” (But, that is only a half-truth. I am probably the only literary historian in the world who doesn’t have a single book at home. I work intensely during the day, which means I am usually the last person the porter throws out of the building at night, but after that … well, at 20:00 I cease to be literary historian and miraculously become … well … “Party Animal” … which means I am one of the last people thrown out of the club.) Life is too short to sleep.

How long have you been in the Czech Republic, respectively in Brno?
As of last September, I have lived in Brno for a year. Before then I was commuting twice a week from Hradec Králové, one of those splendid places to live. In all, I left America for the Czech Republic in 1995, intending to spend two years … and, by whatever serendipity, for good or bad, I’m still here.

After all this time, how do you perceive Czech society (and the students of our university/department) and its position toward queerness?
The Czech response to most things “queer/gay” is: “Whatever.” Since Czechs are the last sceptics/atheists/freethinkers on the planet, nothing really seems to surprise them in terms of social conventions … well, unless you are in a small village, perhaps. But why would anyone even visit such a place?! (Small villages are the staple locale of horror films—my favourite genre: “Several overly hormonal, university students decide to spend their summer holiday frolicking and licking on the beach … But first they must drive through Kentucky or West Virginia or Alabama or … (you get my point, some backwater hell-hole where everyone is married to their mother’s brother’s cousin’s sister who is also their father’s aunt) … Their car breaks down … They must spend the night in the Adams’ Family village full of inbred monsters … Then they all live happily ever after. The End.) Now, given that scenario, only idiot university students would go anywhere near a village … and since I am an idiot university lecturer instead, I know better! Was that a “queer” enough answer to such a “queer” question?

Do you think that events such as the first Czech Gay Pride can change the general attitude towards queerness in society these days? If so, in what way?
No. But I am not a “political type.” Who wants to gain social acceptance? Do I really want to get married, have a small house with a garden, a poodle and a few cats, a pension fund and car insurance, two adorable children named Jack and Jane, a scheduled holiday at the beach (but not having to pass through Kentucky, or even fly over it!), a picket fence and a doorbell that says “The Kaylors” on it?! Hell yeh! (But is walking down the street with a sign or a clichéd “Rainbow Flag” going to get those things for me? Well, I’m not really convinced that they would.
Would wearing a pink thong, a leather vest, and sporting a T-shirt that reads “We’re Here, We’re Queer, Get Used to It” (the American Pride Parade uniform) help? I might get a date by wearing such a garb, but social acceptance? Do I really care what my friend’s grandmother thinks? or my fellow Americans? or my friend, for that matter? Hell no. Life is too short and interesting on its own to worry about “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” (Besides, do I want to spend my life with the same goal as the mob of the French Revolution? Of course not! I’m an elitist, and would prefer to munch on my cake, in a Decadent fashion, with Marie Antoinette, who at least knew how to inspire all heads to roll!)

Did you yourself attend the Pride march?
No … for reasons that should be evident from the above (though the parade did pass directly in front of my flat). I did, however, work my own subversive magic! The fairytale version is as follows: After the parade had come and gone, and all the people were huddling in front of TV NOVA before falling asleep, two little elves crept all around Nám. Svobody and the streets at its sides, magically making anti-gay signs and such *disappear* (Like the very professionally-made, forty-foot-long sign in front of the Church of St. John, a sign that read, in Czech, “God Only Intended A Man to Be with a Woman,” a sign that formerly hung, ten-feet from the ground, attached by thick cables that must have cut the palms of the two little elves as they swung
at both ends to pull it down.) Who were those elves of this fairytale? (I’m not admitting anything that cannot be backed up by video evidence … but, if that sign appears again … well, I think I know where to find that second elf :)

Regarding the activities of ESC and the English department, you were the MC for Creativity Night 2008. What was the hardest and easiest thing about it?
There is nothing easier in life than making a fool of oneself … and nothing harder than getting other people to find it funny. My only comment about the MC position is: “It’s available, because I ain’t gonna be doin’ that no more! No way, no how!” (That string of gibberish translates into: “God, I am so glad that Matthew is back from Switzerland and can resume his usual post at Creativity Night 2009.”)

What did you enjoy the most? Which part of the program?
The skit by the doctoral students is always the best part, in some ways … but that is because doctoral students live such boring lives—essays, libraries, books, books, books, more books—and only at rare moments can burst into frivolity! (After they become PhDs, they will realize that everything in academia is sheer frivolity! and stop being so serious about it.)

For you, what is the hardest thing about teaching?
Since most of my courses hover around Romanticism and Victorian poetry, I am more like a proverbial “used-car salesman” than anything else: “Take this custom-painted poem by Keats for a ride, and I promise you’ll have the adventure of a lifetime. You won’t be able to live without it. ‘But I want a Shakespeare,’ you say. No, everybody’s got a Shakespeare. Go for the more exotic, the luxury ride, the Ferrari, the Lamborghini, the Mazarati: Invest in a Keats, a Hopkins, a Henry James.” Some students are daring enough to take one of those cars for a test-drive … after that, they never look at one of those “Shakespearean models” in the same way. Unfortunately, most students would rather climb behind a steering-wheel more familiar, one well-handled over time. In essence, I spend my time battling, on a literary level, one of those statements that leaves no room for challenge: “I always buy a Ford. My dad drove a Ford. My grand-pappy drove a Ford. My great-grand-pappy drove a Ford …”

Are you preparing a new course for our students?
A new course? What is wrong with all those “old courses”? Okay, I have to admit I have prepared a new “adventure” for the spring term. It bears the rather pedantic title “Decadent Literature and Its Reception in the Late Victorian Period,” which translates into my usual topic: “Let’s watch the Victorians do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.” For god’s sake, what else is there really? If the academic world was centred on the “basic needs” of students, the “basic needs” would be what? Food, shelter, sex. So, the main areas of academic study should mirror that trinity, making the cornerstones of a proper education: Cuisine, Architecture, and “Whatever Kaylor Is Teaching at the Moment!”

Is there, according to you, a course or type of course that is missing from our curriculum?
Hmmm. Given my answer to the last question, I had better simply keep my mouth shut. I am bound to say something either blatant or perverse, or blatantly perverse … Most of the members of this department are free to formulate whatever courses they deem appropriate or necessary. They’re specialists. If someone else knew better than I what should constitute the contents of the courses I offer, that person would likely have their name on my door instead of me.

Right now you are finishing a book on Henry James. What is it going to be about? Are there any other authors you wish to explore in a similar way? What type of ‘silly’ activity do you indulge in from time to time?
News to me! (I am working on a book on James, but that won’t be finished for a quite while.) My third book should go to press in a month or so. It is a scholarly edition of A Defence of Uranian Love (privately printed in three volumes in 1928-1930) by Edward Perry Warren (writing as Arthur Lyon Raile). What more should I say about it? Just read the damn thing! Silly activity: Something other than giving this interview for ESCape? Honestly, I’m always silly, but only when I’m being deadly serious.

Are you planning to attend the Halloween Party this year?
Last year, I and my “partner in crime” planned to come to the party dressed as nuns and dubbed appropriately “Sister Sledge” and “Mother F_cker.” But, that never happened (My nun’s habit was at the dry-cleaner’s). But, I will be there, even if you don’t recognize me. (I really want to come as Reese Witherspoon in the film “Legally Blonde” … but first I have to find a little foofy dog I can dress up like a Barbie.)

How did you enjoy last year’s Mezipatra Film Festival?
The best part was, of course, my lecture! A stunning performance that gathered universal applause and accolades! Honestly, the films are not why I participate … I love hobnobbing with the rich and famous—Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio, Sharon Stone—all those famous folk who frequent Mezipatra. (But I really hope they invite the Russian Olympic Swim Team this year!) More honestly, the whole thing was splendid, and I had a grand conversation with the Canadian director John Greyson and his boyfriend. What more could one want? (Well ……. Okay, it was enough.)

Are you planning to attend the festival this year? Is there anything that you are particularly interested in?
What else is there to do in this city?! Besides, I am giving a lecture for the festival on 4 November. Since the theme of the year is “Why do so many Gay characters die at the end of films?” I am not sure what to expect. Perhaps I will leave all the films a few minutes early, just to provide my imagination some room to speculate, to ask: “I wonder if he lived in the end?” Not!

As we started our interview with a season-related question, we should finish in a similar way. What do you like about winter?
Being frozen into a warm house in Estonia (- 45 degrees outside) with my favourite red-head, a pair of cups of hot chocolate, and … (The rest of this description, as well as the answer to who that “favourite red-head” is, are none of your business!)

Thank you for your time and kindness!
It was a pleasure.

-sš-

Film Club Fall 2008

2008-10-20T16:31:00.001+02:00

Organized by the English Students’ Club with the kind support of the U. S. Embassy, the Fall 2008 Film Club is the eighth successive film club run taking place at the Department of English and American Studies. The film club began with a chronological, genre and director-based exploration of predominantly British and American cinema and subsequently went on to explore certain areas in greater detail, e.g. independent film. This year it is devoted to an exploration of politics...

“This film series offers Hollywood's reflection of the American political process. Using several classical representatives of the genre of political film the series allows the viewers to assess how the filmmakers represented the opportunities, challenges - and severe problems - of the American political system. By means of a string of notable characters their creators have set an example how to proceed as a politically involved individual as well what should be avoided if one were striving for a political career. This series represents a most timely topic at a time of an important American election!” doc. PhDr. Tomáš Pospíšil, Dr.

-dk-

Czech Village in Hungarian Play "Portugál"

2008-10-20T16:25:00.001+02:00

At the end of September Student Theatre Marta introduced Portugál (in Czech Portugálie, trans. Taťána Dimitrová), a piece of drama by a contemporary Hungarian translator, poet and dramatist, Zoltán Egressy. Portugál (1997) is his second play, and soon after its premiere in Budapest it has become widely translated and staged around the Europe; it was even filmed in 2000 by Andor Lukáts.

Portugál tells a story, or better to say stories, of the dwellers of a provincial Hungarian village, whose ordinary life is disturbed by a sudden visit of a mysterious stranger travelling to Portugal to find himself. The centre of all events is the local pub, which is the main setting of the play. Stage design (by Martina Petrová) creates an image of a typical local Czech pub, that has not changed for years. It is realistic in every detail (like stickers on the fridge, small flags of football clubs, TV…) and the same goes for costumes. If someone expects exotic show, he or she will be disappointed: what is being staged is “soo painfully Czech”. But this is meant as a compliment: production works as a realistic portrait of the sleeping village, where TV is the only connection with the outside world, and where people have their secrets that everyone knows. It is a village, where even dogmatic murder is possible.

Realistic acts are interspersed with dreaming images of singing and dancing Hungarian officers in dressy uniforms, which are one of the only few features of Hungarian culture in the play, and which provide interesting counterpart to almost naturalistic setting.

The first half of the production is quite promising, but the second one does not fulfill the expectations. Although it brings dramatic changes, they seem to be coming out of the blue, as the acting of characters is here and there unconvincing, and as the almost-three-hour staging is a bit tiring. Anyway, Portugál is an opportunity to experience Hungarian piece of drama and to reflect our own reality through it.

The next performance of Portugál in Marta Theatre will take place on 24th October.

-bd-

Interview with Don Sparling

2008-05-05T09:25:00.012+02:00

Having planned a Canadian issue of the magazine, we decided to interview the icon of Canadian studies at the Department: Don Sparling. We didn’t expect an orator who was so very interesting to listen to. His comments on a wide selection of topics were absorbing, insightful and at times also very funny.

The complete interview is also available in .pdf format.

LK: Why did you start studying English and literature?
DS: I didn’t start studying English and literature. I started studying anthropology. And I was really studying anthropology because I wanted to study archaeology. But there was no university in Canada that had archaeology as a degree course, so the closest I could get was anthropology. And then I decided after two weeks that this wasn’t what I wanted. It was physical anthropology, a lot of measuring bones, that sort of thing. And I discovered this really wasn’t what I had thought I would be getting into. This was in my first year at university in Toronto. So I was talking to people at the residence where I was staying – my roommate and another older guy in his third year. And we started talking and I said “I’d like to change my subject.” And he asked “What do you want to do?” I said “I don’t know.” What I really wanted to do was English language and literature, because I liked reading, I liked poetry, novels, fiction. But my parents said, particularly my father, that this was totally impractical. Why should you study a subject like that? So that’s why I did something “practical” like anthropology. My friends said “EL & L is interesting. Why don’t you do English?” “Well, how am I going to explain it to my father?” Even though my parents were very tolerant of anything I did. If I came and said I’m going to study engineering, they would have said “Fine.” Or Medieval Studies. They would have said “Fine.” But I thought I should have at least some reasons to explain my choice to my father, to my parents generally. And so the people at the residence said “Why don’t you go and speak with Northrop Frye?” And I said “Who’s Northrop Frye? All I know is that he’s the principal at our college,” – I was at Victoria College in Toronto – “why should I speak to him?” “Well, he’s a literary critic and he would probably tell you something.” So, not knowing I was knocking on the door of one of the half-dozen greatest literary critics of the twentieth century, I knocked on his door and he answered. And I said “My name is Don Sparling and I’m in first year here studying anthropology, I don’t like it, and I think I’d like to study English language and literature, but I wonder if you could tell me why I should?” (laughs) He was very busy, he was overworked, he hated the bureaucracy, maybe that’s why this was a nice break. He said “Come in.” He sat me down for fifteen minutes and explained to me that if I studied English language and literature, the whole world would open up to me. I walked into his room saying “Why would any sane person study literature?” And obviously the meaning of the world unlocked itself, convincing me that I should study literature. So I switched immediately to literature. It’s a very strange way of getting into it.

LF: So you studied English literature only?
DS: There was this pathetic situation in Canada in the 1960’s. I started studying in 1961, and I was at the University of Toronto, Canada’s “best university”. The four-year degree course in English language and literature covered all of English/British literature, starting right from the Anglo-Saxon period – we had one whole year of Anglo-Saxon, just the language – and we did medieval literature and then right up through to the twentieth century. We had one compulsory course in American literature for one year. And there was no compulsory course in Canadian literature. There was one optional course in the fourth year, which I didn’t take. I decided I was much too sophisticated to study Canadian literature. (laughter) It’s rather paradoxical, because I’ve always been a very strong Canadian patriot, but the state of Canadian literature in 1965/66 was not particularly remarkable. We were really just rediscovering our older literature. Mordecai Richler was a writer who was known internationally at that time. But aside from him there was no other contemporary Canadian writer who was really well-known outside the borders of Canada. And so Canadian literature in 1966, when I finished my studies in Canada, was still an extremely peripheral literature in international terms. And it wasn’t taken seriously by professors of literature at the university. There was at that time no Canadian university where you could actually do a degree in Canadian Studies or major in Canadian literature. So in that sense it wasn’t surprising that I ignored this course because there wasn’t a very great amount of good literature available. The interesting thing is that, subsequently, we discovered there was in fact lots of good literature, but much of it wasn’t published at that time, it hadn’t been in print for fifty years or more.

LF: How come?
DS: Because of the peculiar situation of Canada in the English speaking world. We have a population now of 33 million, of which roughly 7 million speak French. So we’re talking about a maximum of 26 million English speakers. When you take away those for whom English is the second language, it’s probably no more than twenty million English-speaking Canadians or so. If you compare that with almost 300 million Americans, 55 million people on the British Isles, and if you look at the volume of literature that’s produced in Britain and United States, then it’s extremely difficult for Canadian literature to even survive economically. Not to mention the fact that at the time I’m talking about there was still the lingering end of the colonial mentality in Canada, the idea that real literature is written somewhere else. And in fact Mordecai Richler, the author whom I mentioned before and who really is one of our great writers and a great writer in the English language, when he was in his early twenties, in the 1950’s, he moved to London because he said he didn’t want to publish in Canada. He wanted to be sure that if his books were well-received, then they were well-received in a milieu where there was real competition. So it wasn’t only the Canadian public, it was even some Canadian writers who were skeptical about Canadian literature. Some of our greatest writers have actually lived much of their lives outside Canada. For instance Mavis Gallant, who’s one of the greatest short story writers in the English-speaking world, has lived in Paris since the 1950’s. And one of the reasons in her case was getting away from this very provincial cultural milieu of Canada in the 1950’s and early 60’s. So this was reflected within universities.

LF: How different is it now?
DS: Oh, it’s a totally different world now. The number of Canadian writers being published in Canada is immense. The number of authors being translated is huge. You go into any bookstore in Germany, any ordinary bookstore in a German city, and you’ll find literally dozens of books by Canadian authors. Before Christmas I was down in Austria, in Graz. Graz is a city of 180,000 people. I went into the railway station – I thought I’d buy a copy of Time magazine or The Economist, something in English to read on the train. And there in a very small little railway bookshop was the latest collection of short stories by Alice Munro. Great! Something like that still blows my mind because I really do remember when virtually nobody even in Canada read Canadian literature. And to see a book like that in a small city – Graz is an important historical city but it’s definitely small. And this one was in English – this wasn’t a translation. There’s a fairly tiny proportion of people who might be buying an English language novel in Graz. And in fact there was another Canadian novel, by Margaret Atwood,. Altogether there were ten novels in English. Serious novels, not junk novels, detective stories or something like that. And out of ten serious English-language novels, two were by Canadian authors. So we’ve come a long way. And certainly, if you look at things like the Booker Prize in Britain, the proportion of Canadian writers who’ve been nominated and won the prize is far out of proportion to the size of Canada. Canadian literature really has taken on a major international presence.

LF: Are you going to the festival Měsíc autorského čtení?
DS: I will be going. It’s a problematic time for me because we have a summer school here that we run with the University of Toronto. And I’m always very busy with it. I’m also teaching at another summer school in Graz, so it’s going to be a very busy summer and it’s unfortunately at the same time as this Month of Canadian Readings.

LF: Do you have any favorite authors there?
DS: I haven’t looked at the final list yet – in fact it keeps shifting and being adapted. There was a wish list and I knew most of the authors in the wish list. But I don’t think that a large proportion of the authors on the wish list could get here because some of them are extremely big names. So at the moment I really don’t know who’s coming. Also about half of them are Francophone writers and I’m rather weak on Francophone writers, particularly contemporary Francophone writers. I’m more familiar with the Francophone writers who began their careers twenty, thirty years ago than with writers who are younger now. Mind you, I’m weak on Anglophone writers who are beginning to write now, too. Basically, since I started this job here in 2000, I’ve had little time to keep up with reading. I’m not teaching anymore. It’s been three years since I gave up any pretence of even being able to teach because the job here is very demanding and I travel a lot. So it means you either have to run an intensive course, or you have to fit in the course somehow when you’re traveling every second or third week. And that’s not a good way of running a course. Students lose interest in the lessons and they’re very hurried and rushed. So I haven’t been doing much reading of literature generally, and of Canadian literature in particular, for some time. And I haven’t been teaching. I’m a little bit out of the picture as far as Canadian literature is concerned, I’m embarrassed to say. However, I know lots of people, like Klára Kolinská, who are very much up on Canadian literature. They do my reading for me.

LF: Do you miss teaching?
DS: I do miss it. I think I’m reasonably good at managing and at making the kinds of connections that are necessary in a job like this. But my natural bent is for teaching. So yes, I do miss teaching. This is one of the reasons I enjoy very much the summer school because I do some teaching in the summer school. I’ve become a different sort of expert for the summer school – I teach Central European history. History has always been my love and my hobby. For me it’s very interesting to teach the Canadian students who are here on the summer school, who know nothing about Central Europe but are determined to explore some Central European history in five weeks. It’s very challenging. I teach it with a professor from the University of Toronto – we share the course. So that’s the only teaching I have. When I teach on the summer school I really ealize how much I miss teaching. Klára Kolinska is going off for a conference next week so I may teach her class next Tuesday. A star appearance. (laughs)

LK: When you do have time for reading what books do you read? Do you have some favorite authors?
DS: I don’t have favorite authors. Recently I’ve been moving much more towards history, social commentary, reading about social issues like multiculturalism and minorities, Islam. I’ve moved a little bit away from reading literature. Hard to say why. I think, for more than twenty years, I was pretty deeply into teaching literature and I think to a certain extent, at least in my case, teaching literature dampened my enthusiasm for it. Or I read so much literature that I felt I wanted to read something else to balance it off. That’s one thing. Another thing, and this is just a personal view of mine, I think there are phenomenally large numbers of bad writers around these days. Or to put it a little bit differently, I think there are phenomenally large numbers of very good writers who bore me to tears. And the reason for that is that so many people these days go to those god-awful writing schools and they learn how to write wonderful prose, very sophisticated prose, a very interesting structure to their fiction and so on, but they don’t really have that much to say. And towards the end of the 90’s, I began to feel that I was reading yet another book in which, until I got to page 50 or 60, I was admiring the skill and metaphors and the language – and then I realized I wasn’t interested in what the person was actually saying. Or rather, I realized that the person wasn’t saying anything. And I’m totally convinced that this is one of the very very negative side-effects of the huge boom in creative writing. Young people want to write, and many want to write because it’s fashionable. They don’t write because they actually have some deep inner urge to write. And so they learn how to express themselves extremely well and construct their fiction very beautifully. But basically it’s just like a balloon. You just stand back a little bit, look at it and you don’t even have to use a pin, just look at it and it bursts and there’s nothing there.

So I have a very critical attitude to a lot of contemporary fiction because of that. I think it’s also partly because a lot of people think that postmodern fiction is very easy to write, and so there’s a phenomenally large number of well written but completely empty postmodern fictional works as well. When you take away those realistic works of fiction that have nothing to say, and these postmodern things, which do nothing but play around and shuffle elements about in sort of sophisticated but stereotyped ways, there’s not much left in contemporary fiction that I find interesting. That sounds terrible, I know – all these wonderful writers. It sounds crazy, but… I wish more writers would go back to basics. For example, there’s a novel by Richard Wright, called Clara Callan, which I read about five years ago and which I still think is one of the most astounding Canadian novels that I’ve ever read. It’s an extraordinarily, in one sense, conservative piece of work. It’s an epistolary novel – like, the 18th century was the last time epistolary novels were in fashion. But it’s a beautiful, powerful, moving novel, very simple in terms of the language, the plot, but a very subtle and moving depiction of the main character.

But perhaps I shouldn’t be so critical. In fact there are lots of other good writers. In the 90’s a lot of stuff I was reading was historical fiction. I like very much the interface between “the real world”, the attempt to reproduce some past reality, and the fictional element in it. This is a phenomenon all over the English- speaking world, this huge wave of historical fiction that began in the 1970’s and has continued into the present. But historical fiction has been particularly strong in Canada. Virtually every major Canadian writer has written one or more novels that are historical fiction, and some of them have written nothing but historical fiction. It’s a genre which is – obviously – universal, but one that’s particularly strong in Canada. So maybe my interest in history is my Canadianess revealing itself. (laughs)

LF: Is there anything you find particularly interesting in Czech history? A period you’re interested in?
DS: Czech history. I love it and hate it. (laughs) I’ve lived virtually my whole adult life in this country. Obviously, if I’ve spent my whole adult life here, there must be something about this country and this culture that I like. And in fact there are many many things I do like about it. But there are also many things which I find unbelievably frustrating, still, even after forty years. Starting from the President and going down. (laughs) It’s his attitude that bothers me, his peculiar sort of little Czech arrogance.

But there’s this very peculiar thing about Czechs. I’m still a Canadian citizen, I haven’t taken out Czech citizenship because to do so I would have to give up my Canadian citizenship. Czechs don’t allow dual citizenship and I find this, in the 21st century, bizarre, and find it doubly offensive because every Czech that emigrated to Canada has dual citizenship. So this is very much a one-way street.

Another peculiar thing that has to do with Czech culture, and specifically with the Czech language, is that even if I did take out Czech citizenship, I wouldn’t be a Czech. Czechs would not say “Jó, Sparling je Čech.” I would be a Canadian till the day I die because you don’t in the Czech language have any neutral word for a citizen of this country. “On je Němec, on je Polák, ona je Maďarka.” But “Je Čech” – this means he’s got the right blood, he speaks the right language, etc. It’s a very strange thing to be surrounded by a culture, to be part of it – I read Czech literature, I watch Czech films, I go to the Czech theatre and so on – and yet to know that no matter what I did, even if I became monolingually Czech, I could never be “Čech”. It’s a very strange situation and very few Czechs are aware of this feature of their culture – that the very language puts a distance between the supremely blessed people who were born here with the right blood and other less fortunate people who come to live here. And I think this is a major problem in the 21st century, when you’re going to have a more multicultural society and when you’re going to have to be taking in more immigrants and so on. And only the children, or even the grandchildren, of people who come here will eventually be recognized as “Češi”. And there will always be judgements as to whether they’ve absorbed enough of the local whatever it is to be considered “Češi”. So all this is part of my ambiguous relationship with Czechs and Czech culture.

LK: Ok. Let’s move on to Canada again. What province do you come from?
DS: I’m from Ontario. I was born in Ottawa. Whenever I meet Canadians they always laugh and say “Nobody comes from Ottawa. That’s where unfortunate people end up.” A huge proportion of the Canadian population lives in Ontario but precisely because of that there’s a kind of love-hate relationship with Ontario on the part of the rest of Canada. It’s something like the love-hate relationship with regart to Prague here. People see Ontario as the richest and the most privileged province. The center of Canadian culture and life is in Toronto, where there’s a concentration of publishing houses, television studios, film producers. So Ontario has a very dominant position in Canadian life. But very few people think of themselves as having an Ontario identity. My family has lived in Ontario since 1840, when they moved there from Ireland. So we’ve certainly lived there long enough to have an “Ontario” identity. But we would never claim this. People in Quebec, for instance, think of their primary identity as “Québécois”, and their secondary identity as Canadian. But almost nobody would say “I’m an Ontarionian.”

I wonder whether part of the reason for this is that it’s certainly the most ethnically rich and mixed part of Canada. Toronto in particular is an interesting city. It’s got the highest proportion of people born outside the country of any city in the world. Almost half the people in Toronto were born outside Canada. So what does it mean to be a Torontonian or an Ontarionian? In fact, in Canada we have this term “visible minority”, which we use for everybody who isn’t white. It’s a very typical Canadian euphemism. But some time now – maybe already, maybe in two or three years – in Toronto the visible minority is going to be white! More than 50% of the people will be from Asia, the West Indies, Africa. And on top of that, of course, comes this huge immigration from the rest of Canada into Ontario. So Ontario, and Toronto in particular, is really a huge mixture of people from all parts of Canada plus people from all parts of the world.

But to get back to Ottawa. Ottawa is more conservative and traditional. Before Ottawa was created as the capital in the 19th century, it was a totally insignificant lumbering village. And until very recently it didn’t have any other identity except as a government town. When I was growing up in Ottawa, 60% of the working population were civil servants, which doesn’t make for the most exciting city, I can tell you. Ottawa when I was growing up was very very conservative. It was a very lovely, very pleasant place to grow up in, but it was dead. It’s much better now. It’s much more lively, it’s become one of the IT centers in Canada, it’s a much more sophisticated place than it used to be. It has a wonderful location – the Ottawa River and two other rivers that flow into it, beautiful parks all along the river banks. In the 1980’s, they started building some extraordinary public buildings. The Museum of Civilization is, even in international terms, one of the great buildings of the twentieth century. The central part of Ottawa, what we call Parliament Hill, where we have our Parliament buildings, is one of the top Romantic sights in North America, with its neo-Gothic structures set on top of a cliff rising above the Ottawa River. It’s very dramatic, very arresting. So it’s a very beautiful city and I love going back.

Ontario. It’s hard to talk about Ontario because – well, how big is Ontario? Twenty time as big as the Czech Republic? Thirty times? I don’t know. The different parts of Ontario are very different. Like most Canadian students I had to work during the summers and one summer I spent working on a tobacco farm in southern Ontario. When I tell people in Europe that I worked on a tobacco farm in Canada they look at me and wonder if I’m joking. But part of southern Ontario is tobacco farms – or was, back then – but then you go north from Ottawa and it’s cold, bleak mining country, what we call the Canadian Shield, which is this huge proportion of Canada that is basically rock with not much soil. In the ice ages the glaciers moved south and stripped away most of the soil. That’s why the Midwest in the United States is such wonderful farming country. It’s all soil from Canada. So this huge area in much of central and northern Canada is rock and trees and rivers and lakes. But it’s extremely beautiful. This is where the first national school of painting we had, men who called themselves The Group of Seven, began before the First World War and then in the 1920’s and 30’s. They were the first people to capture the beauty of this part of the country. Their paintings of the northern country are kind of icons for Canadians. In fact, this is how we view the country – through the eyes of the painters who taught us to see it, basically. And that northern country is also a part of Ontario.

One of the interesting things, by the way, is the whole process by which a certain area, a certain part of the countryside, gets transformed imaginatively in painting. It’s quite interesting in this country. You have the Vysočina, where this happened in the 19th century with a whole group of people painting up around Hlinsko. And people react imaginatively to the Vysočina because they’ve seen it in art. Nobody has really done this in southern Moravia, there’s been no great Czech painter who‘s captured what I think is a landscape of extraordinary beauty, at least certainly parts of southern Moravia. So, literally, people can‘t see the countryside because it hasn’t been created for them imaginatively.

Huge parts of Canada still haven’t been created imaginatively in painting. That’s also true with literature – and this is one of the big problems for Canadian novelists. The countryside, yes: there’re so many Canadian novels and short stories that have been written about the prairies and about the forests, but unfortunately nobody used to write about the cities. For instance, when Margaret Atwood started to write her fiction in the 60s and 70s, there was no imaginative Toronto in fiction. Most of her novels were set in Toronto, but it didn’t exist as an imaginative space. And so one of the tasks of that whole first generation of Canadian writers, the generation of the 70s and 80s, was to translate the urban spaces of Canada into fictional spaces. Once these things exist, you don’t have to put so much effort into creating them in a novel. For example New York, London, Chicago – all these cities have a kind of separate existence in the world of fiction and so for an author who wants to set his fiction in those places, a whole lot of his work has already been done for him. He doesn’t have to lay the foundation stones, but can build from certain reference – people know, for example, what the fogs in London and the River Thames are all about. Had any reader before the 1970s heard of the Don River in Toronto? Of course not.

LF: Is there a place in the Czech Republic that you particularly like? Or maybe a certain landscape.DS: My wife has a cottage in the Vysočina. It’s in a little village called Březiny, between Svratka and Polička, and that part of the Vysočina is, I think, extremely beautiful. It’s beautiful in itself – I mean the hills and valleys, the fields and woods. We‘re near the top of a hill, and you may know that in that part of the Vysočina the villages aren‘t strung out along the rode, but instead there‘re little groups of cottages scattered across the landscape. Where we are there was originally a group of four cottages. Now there are only three: local people live in one, and two belong to chalupáři like us. Ours is an old cottage – dating maybe from 1840 – my wife and her mother were extremely sensitive in restoring it. The cottage is very near the top of the hill, facing west, so you have this beautiful hillside falling away in front of the cottage right down into the valley. We look out over the valley off to the wooded hills maybe ten kilometers away. It’s a really very beautiful place. You can sit there in the evening and just watch the sun go down, listen to all the interesting twilight sounds and watch the bats flit by. At the bottom of the valley there’s a little pond, where you can go down to in summer and swim. It fits very naturally into the valley and it’s fed by a stream from the woods so it’s just pure clear water, And fifty meters right behind the cottage, there’s a forest – probably the largest uninterrupted stretch of forest in the central Vysočina. It’s ideal for cross-country skiing in wintertime.

That part of Vysočina is also beautiful for another reason, because it’s probably the last area in the country where you still have a very large proportion of old cottages. It was of course very poor and in the communist years what happened was that, luckily, the chalupáři got in there before the cottages were destroyed. My wife’s family was one of the first families to actually buy one of the cottages and restore it. And that whole area – places like Telecí, Pustá Rybná, Milovy, Křižánky, that area between Polička and Svratka – probably has the highest density of old original cottages anywhere in the Vysočina.

LF: This probably isn’t a very sophisticated question, but can you see any differences between Bohemia and Moravia? If so, what are they.
DS: (laughs) This is a wonderful game, isn’t it? Well, I lived in Prague for seven years, so I know the Prague mentality. I know Prague isn‘t Bohemia, but I also had friends elsewhere in Bohemia and I used to travel to visit them. Bohemia was certainly more devastated by the expulsion of the German speakers and I think that there are still huge areas in Bohemia where you feel that the social structures are rather strange and that there‘s a kind of lack of community. This didn’t happen to the same extent in Moravia in the regions where the Germans were expelled. Though it’s interesting, for example, if you travel up toward Svitavy. My wife and I were there just a couple of years ago and we had to take a detour, so we went off the main highway and suddenly I said “This is very strange, there’s something odd about this area, it’s not as well looked after, there’s something that’s missing here.” And of course it turned out that these had been German-speaking villages. So even though people moved in during the 40s, more than 50 years later you could still feel that there wasn’t a totally functioning community where people were proud of their local space. But I think that Moravia was less affected by that expulsion of the German-speakers than Bohemia was.

That’s one thing. Another is that people in this part of the country are more independent and more used to the idea that they have to achieve things on their own. I remember in the mid 90s traveling around with the then head of the British Council in Prague, and he was always astounded when he came to Brno and Southern Moravia. He said “I feel as if I’m in a different country.” People were building things, painting things, looking after things, upgrading things, there was a sense of very strong local pride, and he felt that this was missing in Bohemia. But I think it’s not true of southern Bohemia. If you go to southern Bohemia, you have the same sense and it’s partly because this is a traditional area where people have been for generations and they do feel responsibility for their local community and the place they live in. But as a huge generalization, I would say that feeling for place is more marked in Moravia as a whole than it is in Bohemia.

I’m kind of notorious for my anti-Prague speeches, but I do think that a big problem in this country is the immense centralization of power, of institutions and so on, in Prague. This still is a highly centralized country, far more so than most countries in Europe. On the other hand, this does mean that when you’re outside Prague, you have to work a little more honestly and a little more determinedly to achieve things, which I think is a good thing, better than to have everything fall into your lap.

A friend of mine once phrased it in a funny way, asking “What’s the difference between a beer culture and a wine culture?” I said “What do you mean?” And he answered “Well, to be a successful vintner you have to be in the vineyards every week of the year, because it’s a long term commitment. But beer culture – you brew it, you drink it and that’s it.” I don’t know … but it’s a nice symbolic comparison. I think people in Moravia are much more used to long-term commitment to projects of all kinds. Just to take one example. Here in Brno, there’s a group of architects who decided they wanted to bring back to public awareness the work of those extraordinary architects who created Functionalist Brno between the wars. They created a ten-year plan and every year they focus on one architect, they prepare an exhibition of the works of that architect, they produce a wonderful book on him. And this goes on year after year. This really is a long term, solid commitment and I can’t imagine something like that in Prague. There may be things like that, but it’s not what I experienced in Prague. This is an example I know of here, and there are many other examples, obviously. I think in the communist years people became absolutely accustomed to the idea that nobody outside Brno or Moravia was going to help them. Prague was a place where huge sums of money were invested and Bratislava was another one, but Brno and Moravia in general suffered very much in those years, so people just really became self-reliant. I’m convinced that Brno and Moravians are more self-reliant than Prague and Bohemians.

LK: We’ve heard that you cooperated with a Moravian metal band.
DS: (laughs) I saw that question on your list – some day I must together a list of the myths that exist about me. I’ve heard so many versions of why I stayed in this country for so many years and so on. No, I’ve never cooperated with a Moravian metal band. For seven years when I was in Prague I did attend the Slovácký krůžek there regularly, and for five of those years I actually led the chasa at the Slovácký krůžek. I taught them their dances and taught them their songs and I prepared the pásmo each year for our předtáčení at the Moravský ples in Prague, but I didn’t make a recording with a Moravian metal band, to my knowledge. So I’m sorry to disappoint you in that.

LK: Now something lighter, do you have any bad habits?
DS: I procrastinate. I’m a very bad procrastinator.

LK: Are you? You don’t give such an impression.
DS: Yeah, I cover it up very well. I’m not by nature a person who would immediately, when I have a task, make a decision and finish the job. I’m more someone who needs to sit there and think about the problem for some time and sometimes I sit there for a long time. It’s not the best feature in a manager.

Otherwise another bad habit is, I suppose, that I have a very sarcastic side to me and I often find it hard to suppress that. There are situations where I will make an extremely sarcastic comment, which people will be very offended by, sometimes. But I simply can’t hold them back, it’s definitely a very deep part of me.

Another bad habit I have … (laughs) …. Nobody has ever asked me that question before. I can finally confess! I come from a Protestant background and I’m not used to going to confession, so finally, you know, at the age of sixty-four I can confess! (laughs)

LF: (laughs) Yes, you can confess now.
DS: I have a tendency at times to explode. When something irritates me I explode, but the good part of it is that I explode and that’s it. I don’t keep things bottled up inside me.

In this connection I love to quote a wonderful short story by James Thurber, the American humorist, “The Dog that Bit People”. It’s about when he was growing up and in his family they had this dog who was notorious for biting people. He bit the postmen, he bit everybody who came to visit, he bit members of the family. It’s a wonderful story about this totally mad undisciplined dog that created havoc in the family, but the mother always defended this dog by saying: “Yes, yes, yes, he does bite people, but he never holds a grudge.” So I say this to people when I explode, because usually, I think, I’m always amenable and full of fun and then I just explode and people wonder what’s going on. But I never hold a grudge. I explode, I get angry and that’s it, it’s gone.

But sometimes it’s quite interesting whenever there’s a new employee here in my office. I’m always amused to see these new employees, their terror and shock, not knowing what’s going on the first time it happens, because, as I’ve said, usually I’m very easygoing and so they just don’t know how to react. I don’t think that this particular habit is a very bad habit, but for people who don’t know me it can be rather shocking.

LK: Do Canadians have a sense of humor?
DS: Oh, Canadians have a notorious sense of humor. It’s a peculiar sense of humor that’s a deep part of Canadian culture and it goes back a long time, very far into the past. It’s interesting that the first Canadian international bestseller, in terms of fiction, goes back to the 1830s to Thomas Chandler Haliburton. He wrote a whole series of stories called Sam Slick about an American clock seller who comes up to Nova Scotia and uses his Yankee ways to sell pretty cheap goods to these rather naive Canadians at inflated prices. It became an international bestseller, reprinted in England and the United States, and it has a peculiar kind of ironic humor that’s got something to do with the peculiar situation of Canada.

Canada has, in one sense, an extremely difficult position in the English speaking world, with the United States on one hand and Britain on the other. You can interpret Canadian history in terms of one form of colonialism being replaced by another form of colonialism and there’s some truth in that. But there’s an interesting aspect to this, which is what happens when you’re part of a culture, but not totally inside that culture. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, we were deeply part of British culture – we read British literature, we knew what was going on at the Court of St. James’s in London. But English/British culture wasn’t our culture. We had something of our own on top of all of that, and so we were on the periphery looking and watching, and of course whenever you’re on the periphery – whenever any individual in any situation is on the periphery, outside, looking in at something, particularly something which is partly shared – it almost inevitably leads to an ironic sense of humor. And the same thing is true when it comes to the United States. We watch American films, we read American books, we read American magazines, but American culture isn’t our culture. So we’re on the sidelines watching, and this enables us to see the funny sides of things much more easily because we’re not totally surrounded by that culture. And this is why humor has always been a central part of Canadian culture. And it still is today.

People are very interested and surprised if you start talking about the number of, for instance, American comedians, Hollywood comedians, who are actually Canadians. They look like Americans, they speak like Americans, they make fun of Americans and American ways, but they’re from Canada. Or, for example, Saturday Night Live, the comedy show that’s been running now for twenty-five years on American television, appearing every Saturday – it’s run by a Canadian, and a lot of the comedians who appear on it are Canadians. They present America with this humor about America. So yes, humor is absolutely central to Canada and it’s everywhere.

A few years ago, I was watching one of David Cronenberg’s films that was being shown here. Some people get very upset when they see his films. This was a film called Crash, about people who get sexual thrills from sort of driving around, having sex in cars that crash. It’s a very odd film and I was sitting there laughing and everybody though I was some kind of deviant. But I was laughing because it had funny little references which nobody but a Canadian would get. There’d be, for example, some music in the background that would be some odd Canadian thing that you’d associate more with summer camp you went to as a kid. All these little things.

And humour is omnipresent in Canadian literature. Even in serious literature you’ll find this strange humor and it can take various forms. There’s a strong tradition of black humor. One of the stories I used to do in one of my courses at the English Department was by a Canadian writer called Barbara Gowdy. It was this bizarre story – you only have to describe the plot and people look at you and say “You’re joking!” It’s a story about a couple on their honeymoon, when the woman discovers that her husband is in fact a transsexual whose sex change operation is only partly completed…. you see? You’re smiling, and you’re smiling. (Ed note: the interviewers are smiling.) This is bizarre, this is funny and there’s a weird kind of black humor to it. When I first told my wife about the story, she said oh, the story must be god-awful! And I said no, I think this is one of the most profound treatments that I‘ve ever seen in literature, or at least in a short story, of the nature of love. And she read the story and said I was right. So there’s this weird black humor, but the author comes up with this extraordinarily powerful story. So humour is very much part of Canadian culture and I think it’s one of the little tricks about Canadian culture generally which make it not so accessible to “outsiders”. Some aspects of it are very private.

There’s a wonderful Canadian film called My American Cousin. It’s about a young girl in Western Canada – British Columbia – and her cousin comes up from the United States to visit her. It’s set in the 1950s, and he’s got this crazy convertible car, with the big fins at the back. It’s the Elvis Presley era – her male teenager cousin comes up from the United States and he’s really into the whole American popular culture thing. We showed this film once here in Brno and 95% of the audience kind of looked at it and they had no idea what it was all about. I was sitting there and all through it I was smiling or laughing. There were just so many little Canada-America references, it was again the situation of an outsider looking in on this other culture – a culture which, in this film, the teenage girl of course shared. She was completely into American music and films and popular magazines, but she could, at the same time, see the funny side of it all, whereas the American was totally engulfed in this culture and took it all seriously. So this is a very fundamental part of Canadian culture.

I think that this is one of the things that I find very similar in Czech culture. But I think it derives from a different source in Czech culture, I think it derives from the fact that for such a long time Czechs were more or less powerless. Even in their own country. So they compensated by cultivating a humorous také on the world. It’s like when Franz Josef came to Prague to open the bridge across the Vltava River by the National Theatre, and there was this photo of him walking across the bridge that appeared in the paper with the caption “Procházka na mostě”. And ever after that the Czechs referred to Franz Josef as “Procházka”, jo? This is the kind of thing that a Canadian would understand immediately. So I think that there are a lot of things like that in Czech culture, and Czech humor as well, that are very close to the Canadian experience. Obviously the references are different, but there’s that same distance and the same sort of ironic view.

LK: Have you ever read any Czech authors? Do you have favourites?
DS: I’ve read a lot of Czech authors but I don’t think I can say I have favourites. I don’t particularly like Kundera. I like Hrabal, I like Vančura. I like Čapek. People sort of think Čapek is old-fashioned but I think he’s got some wonderful works. I haven’t read that much contemporary stuff. I love Kratochvil. It’s partly because he’s a Brno author, but it’s more than that. I just think he’s a brilliant author – his Brněnské povídky, which I’m reading at the moment, are superb. I love Skácel, of course, and I like Seifert, but I don’t think that I feel the depth of emotion that Seifert arouses in Czechs and I don’t know why this is. I think, and this sound terrible, that he’s too Czech for me. You could say that about Skácel as well, but the point is that Skácel is Moravian, he’s not Czech, or at least not Bohemian. There’s something about Seifert that I can’t quite get. I mean, I like him but I don’t feel this complete “oooh” Czechs have when they talk about him. But with Skácel, yes. Skácel is extraordinary and perhaps untranslatable. I don’t know. I’ve tried various things with some of his poems and I used to translate some of the short essays called Malá recenze that he wrote for Host do domu before it was closed down in 1969. I remember this because I was here in Brno and I knew him and I knew a lot of the people in the editorial board of Host do domu, and these essays were beautiful and I tried to translate some of them. I think those are translatable – but his poetry? It is so condensed and it uses such resonant language. It echoes Moravian folk songs, it echoes specific vocabulary from this part of the country and it’s incredibly complex. This is something it shares with Moravian folk songs. Three or four times, I’ve been asked to translate some folk songs, usually for a film for which I’ve been doing the subtitles, but it’s almost impossible. Moravian folk songs have such utterly concentrated meaning and they use such an extraordinary range of diminutives. (Ed note: Now Mr. Sparling starts singing a Moravian folk song to give an example of the untranslatable beauty he’s been speaking about – and he sings very well.) You can’t translate that. It’s so simple, it’s only four or five lines of poetry, but there’s that surprising metaphor, that wonderful visual image – and that’s Skácel. When you try to put him into English, there’s a whole dimension missing.

I don’t know much contemporary Czech literature. I’ve read a bit of Viewegh and I liked the versions that they did in Husa na provázku of some of his stuff, they were fun, but I don’t really feel like reading more of his fiction. Ivan Klíma has been translated a lot into English but his fiction doesn’t say anything to me at all. I think there’re kind of two poles of Czech literature. There’s that kind of storytelling which is Hašek, Hrabal, Škvorecký – these are people who just talk. And then there’s this other intellectual pole, people like for instance Kundera. And I generally prefer the people who talk. I think that Czechs are like the Irish in that. It still is quite an oral culture. But you know, sometimes this drives me crazy. One of the problems I see in Czech culture is that words don’t have any weight, people talk and they’re eloquent and so on, and yet the weight of words in Czech is almost non-existent. But there’s a wonderful kind of eloquence and it’s the sort of thing that comes from hours and hours sitting around the table and drinking wine or beer, and that’s where the culture comes from. The same as in Ireland. People sitting around, enjoying each other’s company and talking. And this is really nice. We don’t have it in North America and the English don’t have it either. It’s not a Canadian, English or British thing. It’s Czech.

LF: We’ve noticed that you have some very nice plants here in your office. Plants are said to flourish when talked to. Do you talk to your plants?
DS: No, not really. They of course hear me talking on the phone a lot. And sometimes I mumble at them when I have to trim them or water them. But that’s it. My wife, though – these plants came from her, originally – she talks to them, programatically. And our flat is like a jungle. So perhaps it works.

LF+LK: Thank you very much for the interview.

-lf- & -luk-

Toronto and Tim Horton's Tim Bits

2008-05-05T09:22:00.005+02:00

The night before my departure, I am wondering whether this time, my stay in Canada will be as amusing and influential as two years before when I lived in the Banff National Park, spent half a year hiking and living in the most beautiful mountains. The setting is different though – it is Toronto. The largest city of Canada with population of 2.5 million, the Greater Toronto Area with a population of nearly 6 million, and a provincial capital of Ontario. I am in two minds about leaving – I am more than happy that my hard work to receive a scholarship to study Canadian literature in Canada has been finally rewarded, but at the same time I am a little worried how I will feel in such a huge city.

The arrival to Toronto, Lester B. Pearson International Airport, is smooth. Staying for two hours in line with hundreds of other students for an immigration office to obtain one entry students permit is tiring. Fortunately, the officer does not ask too many questions and provides me with the permit within few minutes.

Accommodation
Tartu Students residence, where I am supposed to be living for the next few months is located just across the street from Toronto University, St. George campus. Upon my arrival at Tartu I am quite pleased that after all the troubles with booking my room I can register and move in. The single rooms are the same as advertised on the website, shared kitchen and bathroom as well. However, at that time I still do not know, that I will be sharing a kitchen with a mouse living in a kitchen-stove, racing with cockroaches who of us is faster (btw the cockroaches always win) and running for life out of the building every couple of weeks in the middle of the night when a fire alarm is goes off and the fire brigade comes.

University
Toronto University, St. George campus was established in 1827 and is a highly ranked tertiary institution in Canada and also the biggest university in Canada. It surrounds the Queen’s park in the downtown of Toronto. I was familiar with high reputation of U of T and was curious about the classes. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Courses on the undergraduate level seemed to be less time consuming and to my surprise not more demanding than at the Department of English at Masaryk University. I was used to seminars with 10 – 25 students in class. At U of T, one cannot talk about seminars but rather lectures. Sometimes, there are even 50 students in a class. Moreover, most of the classes take three hours, and if they are scheduled for 6 pm and do not end until 9 pm they are rather counterproductive. But, I guess it is only about getting used to it and also about how interesting the lecture is. What I would highlight as excellent are the teachers. Many of the literature courses teachers are writers themselves, many of them distinguished. Therefore I was honoured to be in a class taught by Lee Maracle an aboriginal writer, a social worker and a speaker.

I assume that it is the graduate courses that make the excellent U of T reputation. The courses are made so that they prepare students for academic career. Students have to write an extract and at the end of the course have a conference. Throughout the literature course, they read not only fiction but also lot of critical writing. There are two main papers to write, each in the length of our B.A. thesis, in one course. Last but not least the libraries are breath taking. The Robars library is the biggest on the campus. Students have access to basically any on-line database; they can borrow literatures in almost any language. There are, for instance, four shelves of Czech literature including books published by minor publishers in 2007. This is thanks to professor Veronica Ambros from the Department of Slavic languages. I must admit, that I was leaving the library with a sad heart.

Czech Community in Toronto
Similarly to London, Toronto is a multicultural city. One may found a China town, Korea town, Italian town and also Masaryk Town, where the Czech community centre is located. The Czech Community is quite strong and active in Toronto. They issue two newspapers (Satellite is one of them) and at least once a month Czech theatre companies perform in Toronto. Also, Czech singers and groups come to Toronto to perform, for instance, Zuzana Navarová. Life of the first generation immigrants meant that their University degrees were not recognized in Canada and most of them could not afford to study at University upon their arrival to Canada in the 80s. Therefore many of them worked on underqualified positions, which in the present is the case of, for instance, Middle Eastern immigrants. Moreover, the economic situation and the improving market in the Czech Republic makes many Czech Canadians think of returning back to their country of birth. However, the fact that they lived half of their lives in the Czech Republic and half in Canada results in the sense of belonging to neither country and neither culture.

Cultural Shock
Although I have lived in a multicultural city before and even attended a lecture on a cultural shock, it struck me unexpectedly. The symptoms are sadness, passivity, depression. I discussed the cultural shock with a friend of mine who went to see a doctor when experiencing the symptoms and was told that the only cure is lots of exercise and socializing. When I spoke with some of the immigrants, they did have a similar experience when they moved to Canada, but instead of two weeks or a month it took them years to overcome it.

The City
The city itself is… noisy. That bothered me the most. Even at night, there was no silence. Of, course there are parts of the city which are quieter and nice, the Beaches, the High Park Area just to name a few, and quarters that are pretty, but the concreteness, noise, smog and consumer lifestyle is so strong there that I could not and did not want to cope with it. On the other hand, the city may grow on someone. There are many cosy cafes and restaurants, galleries and museum, the CN Tower, the lake, the Harbourfront centre where the biggest literary festival IFOA takes place, the Annex and a lot more. There were times when I felt like the main protagonist of Alison Pick’s novel The Sweet Edge, Ellen, who comments on Toronto, a strange city for her: "I could almost – [...] like this city."

Torontians
And the people? It is said that the British are cold and reserved, but it is nothing in comparison to Torontians. One may argue that people in many big cities are indifferent, but Torontians are the winners. When you take the public transport, people are shocked if you let an elder person or a pregnant woman sit down. Anupa, a girl from Mauritius who spoke fluent Czech told me that she has been living in Toronto for three years and she still have not found any friends among Torontians (those who were born and lived in Toronto since their childhood). It is even difficult to get to know her colleagues at work. All her friends are immigrants to Canada. Also, I met a Torontian, who became my climbing partner. We had a great time at the climbing wall, but outside the climbing wall, he would not even go for a beer. Those who would go out with me for a coffee would be immigrants as well.

Nature
On several occasions I managed to leave the city and travel north of Toronto to the Algonquin Provincial Park and to the Parry Sound area. Nature in Canada is exceptional. The only disturbing thing outside Toronto was the highway that was being built in the Parry Sound Area. I could not comprehend the reasons for blasting off beautiful rocks, and rebuilding a two lane road into a four lane road despite a minimal traffic. But I guess, since there is so much space, there is no need to spare it. Still, the national park and the endless forests always calmed me down and “recharged” me with new energy.

Whenever I left the city, I realized that I do not belong there. The feelings I had before the departure were right, the city is not for me, but I would not exchange this experience for anything. I would definitely recommend it. And Tim Horton’s Tim bits (the most delicious donuts in the world) as well ;)

Zuzana Janoušková

Měsíc autorského čtení letos představí kanadské autory

2008-05-05T09:17:00.004+02:00

Někteří z Vás se již v minulosti mohli setkat s netradičním literárním festivalem Měsíc autorského čtení, jež probíhá už devět let v Brně v Divadle Husa na provázku vždy od 1. do 31. července. Netradiční je tento festival převážně tím, že během 31 červencových dnů představí 31 autorů nejen tuzemských, ale také zahraničních a to jedné národnosti. V předcházejících ročnících se tak mohla veřejnost setkat s 31 berlínskými či běloruskými autory. V letošním roce přivítají pořadatelé (nakladatelství Větrné Mlýny) 31 kanadských autorů. Jsou mezi nimi významné osobnosti a současně je dán prostor mladší generaci s vysokým potenciálem. Na otázky k festivalu odpovídali Petr Minařík a Pavel Řehořík, jinými slovy nakladatelství Větrné Mlýny.

Literární festival Měsíc autorského čtení existuje od roku 2000. Jak vůbec vznikl a kdy získal mezinárodní rozměr?
PM: Festival – jako spousta jiných podniků – vznikl v roce 2000. První ročník proběhl náhodně, nekoordinovaně.
PŘ: Když se dívám na program prvního ročníku, musím říct, že to opravdu byla jen lavina nápadů.
PM: Přesně jak říká kolega. Chtěli jsme využít potenciál, který v sobě skrývá červencové Brno, totiž minimum kulturních podniků.
PŘ: A taky volná divadla. Vhodný prostor pro naše aktivity.
PM: Rozhodli jsme se pro maximalistickou variantu, že každý červencový den bude číst jeden autor a vše bude zdarma.
PŘ: Až mnohem později, tuším od roku 2005, je všechno také online na webu www.autorskecteni.cz.
PM: Zprvu šlo jen o české autory, od roku ´05 má festival zahraniční linii. Nejprve „na zkoušku“ do Brna přijelo jedenatřicet slovenských spisovatelů, o rok později stejný počet autorů z Berlína, vloni jsme hostili literáty z Běloruska.

Proč jeden měsíc, jedna literatura? Proč to není kombinované, třeba různí autoři z různých zemí?
PŘ: Takových festivalů je řada, byť ne v našem rozsahu. Líbí se nám ta metoda „hrsti,“ že opravdu jeden celý měsíc můžete bydlet v jedné kultuře, řekněme literatuře. Nic není uzavřené a vyčerpávající, přesto za ten měsíc získáte o daném literárním kontextu nemalé povědomí.
PM: A jsou opravdu lidé, kteří to takto „slabikářově“ aplikují. Zkrátka dávkují si celý festival, od prvního do posledního červencového dne.

Letos budou hosty v zahraniční linii Měsíce autorského čtení spisovatelé z Kanady. Proč padla volba na ně?
PŘ: Ačkoliv nejsme dramaturgové zahraniční linie, přípravu, nominace autorů, překlady a další se zajišťují v širším kruhu, kterému velí Zuzana Janoušková (anglofonní část) a Jitka Honajzrová (frankofonní část), tak téma určujeme s kolegou my dva. Chtěli jsme se pokusit zprostředkovat pohled na bohatou a nám do jisté míry blízkou literaturu, která je v Česku z neznámých důvodů trochu méně reflektována, než by odpovídalo jejímu významu.
PM: O to v koncepci festivalu jde. Pochopitelně zdůvodnění se od sebe liší. Postavení běloruské a kanadské literatury, loňský a letošní ročník, se od sebe liší, jak situací ve vlastním prostředí, tak recepcí u nás. Přesto v obou případech jde mluvit o objevování. S velkou nadsázkou by se dalo říci, že po „odehrání“ celého cyklu zahraniční linie u nás taková literatura zdomácní.
PŘ: Zase tak velká nadsázka to myslím není. Všichni co na festival přijeli říkají, že u nich doma něco takového nemá obdoby. Bělorusové dokonce mluvili o tom, že taková reprezentativní přehlídka jejich literatury nikdy neproběhla za hranicemi ani v Bělorusku.
PM: Totéž snad bude případ literatury kanadské, i když tady pracujeme se zcela jinou situací.

Kdo tedy do Brna přijede?
PŘ: Těch jmen je opravdu jedenatřicet. Než je vyjmenovávat, tak raději doporučím webové stránky, již jednou zmíněné www.autorskecteni.cz.
PM: Zhruba dvanáct spisovatelů je frankofonních a devatenáct anglofonních, ačkoliv ještě teď jsou možné změny.

Kdo to celé platí?
PM: Především Canada Council a neopomenutelná je pomoc (finanční i technická) kanadského velvyslanectví. Jeho excelence, kanadský velvyslanec, nad akcí převzal záštitu.
PŘ: A pochopitelně místní zdroje – od ministerstva kultury, přes kraj, město až po sponzory. Celkový rozpočet je přibližně milión korun, což je na šedesát dva spisovatelů, z toho jedenatřicet zámořských vlastně pakatel. Akce menšího rozsahu, ale většího mediálního ohlasu, dnes již zkrachovalá Poezie bez hranic, stála dva milióny.

Vstupné dobrovolné?
PM: Ano, na všechny večery vstupné volné, zdarma katalog, přístup do webového archivu.
PŘ: Vše je rovněž možné sledovat na online na webu, ale to už jsem asi říkal.

Zuzana Janoušková

Work and Travel Canada: I survived Canada -- Bearly

2008-05-05T09:01:00.019+02:00

It was February 2005, we were sitting in the faculty library when we got e-mails informing about some vacancies in the Work and Travel Canada program. My adventurous friend Zuza knew immediately that we had to reply straight away because the number of people to be accepted was terribly limited. I didn’t even know that I wanted to go. But we replied. And were chosen. Within ten minutes in the library my head got overfilled with dreams about Canada and I realised that I actually always wanted to go there. To be really exposed to English, to go hiking in the most beautiful mountains on this planet, to befriend a ranger in those mountains with a nice couple of horses, to find a nice job in a downtown of a real city by the sea and eat a lot of pancakes with maple syrup. Though I knew that indulging in daydreams was not always particularly all right, I created quite an elaborate picture in my head of what it’ll be like to come there for summer, to work there, to see and experience a lot of things there and I even knew what it would be like to be back again.

After too weeks of daydreaming I started to think about the more practical things such as where to get the money for my journey, how to find a job in advance and which place to fly to. While Zuza was sure to go to mountains, I wanted to go to a city. So we decided to go different places and visit each other when possible.

Rude Awakening
At my arrival to Vancouver, I experienced a number of slight shocks. I was in a hostel room with three Asian women who didn’t speak English and my bed looked like somebody had slept there just an hour ago. As I came in the middle of the night, I didn’t really feel like complaining. There was nobody to complain to anyway. I felt a bit sad and couldn’t sleep. After some hours of turning over in my bed, I thought that a short walk in the city would serve me better.

It was still completely dark and I had no idea what time it was. So I just came out of the building and simply went along some streets. The air was humid and pleasantly cool, I felt exhausted and didn’t really know where I was going. Suddenly, I realised that the streets looked rather strange. They were dark, appeared somewhat neglected, seedy. Then I saw two people lying on the sidewalk. A woman and a man were sleeping next to each other with their heads leant against the wall. I noticed a number of puncture marks on their hands and a syringe lying in the dirt around them. Confused and somewhat panicked, I was trying to find a way out of these streets. After ten minutes of a rush walk the city looked a bit friendlier again, though there was no one I could see. I came to a 24-hour-shop and decided to buy some water. Standing as the only customer at the cash-desk with a 2 CAD bottle of water, I realised that I only had a 100 CAD banknote to pay by. A huge muscular man with a big sign JUST DO IT! on his T-shirt was coming to me, looking at me curiously. He took my bottle and said in a very deep voice “two bugs, chick.” So I just did it – I gave him the banknote. He looked at it, then back at me and asked in his very deep voice again: “You’re new here, aren’t ya?” “Yes, I am,” I squeaked. The man then asked me where I was coming from, told me that it was too early for me to walk in the city (it was 4 a.m.), called the part of the city that I had just walked through “streets to avoid”, told me how to get to the nice centre and wished good luck.

In about an hour I was walking along the waterfront, with skyscrapers on one side and blue mountains behind the sea on the other. Soon there were some trim people jogging at daybreak and the city was beginning to move. Vancouver was suddenly very elegant place to walk through.
In the morning I went to “Orientation”, a meeting organised by GTS agency where all incoming students were informed about how to find a job and a place to live and about the “streets to avoid”. I did avoid the streets in the following weeks, but was often reminded of some of the big differences of a city life by small posters ADDICTED TO HEROIN? CALL THIS NUMBER that were distributed all over the downtown. Though Vancouver is said to be one of the safest and most beautiful cities in the world, drugs are everywhere and you can see some “less desirable scenes” even out of the “streets to avoid”. Sometimes I saw very young addicts, many of them younger than me, begging for money or food. One only wonders whether after some time of living in such a place one gets used to a spectacle of a begging pregnant woman with spotted hands. After three months I didn’t.

Parks, Towels and Multicultural Parties
After two weeks of jobhunting and looking for a place to live, I found myself living in a flat with another four Czech girls in one of Vancouver’s pleasant suburbs in a street called Dunbar. I met my new flatmates at “Orientation” and we found a basement apartment of a house belonging to a Polish family. If you happen to go to Vancouver on a Work and Travel holiday, do join some people to live with. It’s much easier to look for a flat than a single room.

Finding accommodation was relatively easy compared to jobhunting. Unless you have some friends in the city, it’s very likely that you won’t find a job via internet in advance. Most companies want you to come to an interview. I had to start with jobhunting only after my arrival. And it was tough. As I came to Van on June 22, the city was already full of students, many of whom were Irish and they were generally preferred by employees because of their English, I guess. This made me feel fed up sometimes. Only after three weeks did each of us finally manage to find a job. Most of us worked as housekeepers in posh hotels. So, the best thing when jobhunting for a seasonal work in Vancouver is to provide yourself with a Canadian phone number (do it as soon as possible), make about a hundred copies of your CV and distribute them all over the city. Hotels, cafés, grocery shops, all kinds of stands and kiosks on the beach, smile and leave a copy everywhere you go.

The housekeeping team of a five star hotel which I became a member of consisted of about twenty Chinese women and me. My colleagues didn’t speak English very well and, in fact, there was no time to talk. The work was very hard. I didn’t really mind cleaning toilets and making other people’s beds, but my job was at times humiliating because some guests behave arrogantly. Sometimes there was just no place for diplomacy. I had a heated argument with a man who was complaining about my giving him only five towels instead of the ridiculous luxury of seven fresh towels changed every day. In a housekeeper’s uniform you’re nothing but a tick to some people. If I ever stay in a hotel, I will tidy up my room and leave a little tip.

Only after we got used to the new daily routine of work, we actually started to enjoy the city. I bought a bike and was cycling everywhere. Thanks to many second hand bike shops, bikes are relatively cheap and easy to get. And though there aren’t many bike trails, Canadians (as opposed to Czechs) are good drivers and respect cyclists. And so I bought some maps and biked all over and around the city.

Vancouver is really elegant. Downtown is relatively small as it lies on a peninsula and doesn’t have much space to spread. The amazingly huge Stanley Park on the edge of it is incredibly dense (as are all forests in Canada), a perfect place to spend an afternoon lying on grass and reading a book. Generally, where ever you look, there is something green around you. There are many small parks all over Vancouver suburbs, people do a lot of sports, you can play baseball or voleyball on many public playgrounds, go for a walk on the beach, visit a number of museums and galleries, explore the campus of the University of British Columbia which, in fact, is a large forest with many peopled cafés. You can, for example, go there in the evening after a hard day to see the sunset over the sea and, while watching bald eagles circling above your head, smoke your ritual evening cigarette.

As for practising English, I didn’t have many opportunities. Though there were many parties in our house organised by our generous and crazy landlord, they were usually attended by Polish people, Czechs, Mexicans, Germans and sometimes Canadians and Australians, so I spoke a lot of Czech, some German and Polish-Czech, used body language to make up for my non-existent Spanish and I spoke English only occasionally. My work colleagues didn’t want to use English because they weren’t really used to it. Vancouver Chinatown is huge and the Asian community is very strong. Many Chinese people don’t speak English at all because their community is so self-sufficient that they simply don’t need to.

BBC – Beautiful British Columbia
Bears are everywhere. At first, I didn’t really believe all the stories about bears in Northern Vancouver, but it’s highly risky to go hiking on your own. Whenever I asked some Canadians about their experience with bears, they usually became hesitant and after seconds of pondering they told me either their own or a friend’s story about meeting a bear. It’s highly recommendable to find somebody to go hiking with so that you are naturally noisy while talking. Bears are very timid animals and they instinctively avoid people. You just mustn’t surprise them. North Vancouver is inhabited by black bears, but when you go just a bit further north, you can meet a grizzly bear.

Towards the end of my stay, I was happy to finish my job in the hotel and planned travelling around British Columbia. Having read some parts of Emily Carr‘s diaries and having seen some of her paintings in the Vancouver Art Gallery, I looked forward to visiting Vancouver Island. This artist created some admirable landscape painting of British Columbia and her work was recognised by the famous Canadian Group of Seven (a group of landscape painters). She often used fauvist colours and broken brushwork and I found some of her landscape paintings of Vancouver Island really impressive. I was no less impressed by the island itself.

It's is a place of its own. There is a real diversity of lifestyle and landscapes, from rugged west coasts to quaint boardwalk communities where everyone knows everyone else. I didn’t go to the south, to the capital of BC – Victoria and decided to visit the west coast area around Tofino and then go further north. There are beautiful coast mountains, temperate rain forests and sparkling waters with a diversity of marine life including orca whales. Listening to orca whales’ sounds on a windy beach early in the morning is an unforgettable experience.

Besides Vancouver Island, I also traveled over the Okanagan Valley with my friends. It’s a large, geographically diverse area, its landscape varies from desert-like areas with high plateaus to deep canyons and huge lakes. What I found quite unusual was that you could drive for two days, see so many various landscapes and still be in the same province.

Beary Survival in the Rocky Mountains
Even after seeing so many different places I still wasn’t satisfied. My adventurous friend Zuza invited me to visit her in the Rocky Mountains and I was keen to go. When I came to Banff and saw its surroundings, we immediately decided to go for a backcountry trip.

All the stories about bears in Northern Vancouver were nothing compared to stories about bears in Rockies. Only two weeks before my arrival, a woman went jogging in the mountains alone and surprised a female bear with cubs. There is no happy ending to this story. When you want to go for a backcountry trip in the Banff National Park, you have to take a number of precautions to be prepared for anything. There was a sign of disbelief in the eyes of a lady in the Banff tourist centre when we showed her a map with an 85 km trail that we wanted to go. “Girls, the first part of your trip will be very, but very beary and you have to be very, I repeat, very careful and noisy, is that right?” We were listening and nodding to everything she told us, bought two wilderness passes, two bearsprays and a better map and the next day we were ready to set off for the trip with 12 kg backpacks on our backs.

During the four days of walking in a complete wilderness, we didn’t meet a single person, saw a number of bear prints, forded an ice-cold river and admired many types of beautiful natural sceneries that left us completely dumb at times. The first day was a bit claustrophobic because we were going through an extremely bushy area and saw the first bear prints on the way. We tried to be really noisy. We had small bear bells on our backpacks but they didn’t seem to be noisy enough. So we were making noise with tin cups and kept producing various kinds of shouts and cries. Sometimes we just sang Holubička ze skály out of tune. I was happy that we didn’t meet a ranger because we looked like complete freaks.

The first night was the scariest one. When we came to the camp, I was surprised that it wasn’t fenced. It was just a small area with places among trees to build a tent, and a special place where you could eat and put a bag on a tree with all your food, toothpastes, lip balms and anything that could attract bears. In most of the camping places in the national park you can’t set a fire and so you have to carry all the water you need. Our tent was standing in the middle of nowhere, with bears in the surrounding woods and we were trying to fall asleep. Fortunately, falling asleep was very easy in the evenings that followed because we were much more tired than the firt day.

It’s interesting how quickly one gets used to the necessary being alert all the time you are in the backcountry. I think that we sort of began to function in a slightly different mode. We were cautious all the time, still together, still talking, shouting, swearing, singing or laughing because it was necessary. This was sometimes extremely tiring of course. But it was worth it.

The countryside was incredibly beautiful, there were many different shapes of mountains around us, one could feel like walking through a visual anthology of various kinds of folding and lifting that took place there tens of million years ago. We saw some coyotes and heard their howling, we also heard the unforgettable sounds produced by red-tailed hawks. Despite the constant slight fear and cold weather, we had a really great time. Here’s an evening entry from my diary:

Baker Lake 17. září 2005, 19.38
Ležíme ve stanu. Zuza se snaží usnout, je nám už zase dost zima. Noc bude opět mrazivá. Můj parádní kapesní miniteploměr se pokazil, takže nevím, kolik je stupňů a nemůžu tudíž machrovat. Pára z úst prozrazuje, že musí být pod nulou. Venku je šero, od jezera začal slabě foukat ledový vítr. Ještě před dvěma hodinama jsme si čistily zuby a pak pracně na strom uchycovaly pytel s jídlem a zubníma pastama. No, pytel je vlastně hlavně plný odpadků, protože k jídlu už nám zbývá jen půlkila rozinek. A zubní pasta, bude-li nejhůř. Kupodivu nemám ani moc hlad, přestože jsme dnes jedly už velmi poskrovnu. Člověk tu jaksi nemá myšlenky na jídlo.
………
Západ slunce nad Baker Lake byl neuvěřitelně krásný, majestátní a smutný. Seděly jsme na studené vlhké trávě a bylo nám úplně jedno, že nám vítr šlehá do zčervenalých tváří a že je nám zima. Nemluvily jsme, jenom sledovaly rudé nebe za horami v dálce a zčeřenou hladinu čiré, vtahující masy vody. Jestřábí výkřik se nesl vzduchem neuvěřitelně dlouho, na chvíli jsme zapomněly na ten neustálý, malinký strach a nutnost nepřetržité bdělosti, na bolest končetin a popraskaných rtů. Možná že jsme tam na moment vůbec nebyly a mizely jsme někde pod hladinou, v té daleké hloubce, kde už nebylo vidět nic než černou tmu. Možná tam byl jen ten jestřáb a viděl nás jako dvě malinké neobvyklé tečky na břehu nekonečné vodní plochy.
Mrznou mi ruce, Zuza už spí, je tu úplné ticho. Čepice se jí trochu svezla na stranu, ale vůbec jí to nevadí. Jsem ráda, že tu jsme spolu, měla bych strach tu být sama. A taky jsem ráda, že tu máme tak dobré čepice, které vůbec nesundáváme z hlavy.
-lf-

Creativity Night 2008

2008-05-05T08:57:00.004+02:00

No show starts on time (as David said when commenting on CN 2006) but this year’s greatest event did! Yes, it really did start on time! For those who by some accident were not at Fléda on the incriminated day April 15 and do not know, the event of the year was the Creativity Night 2008.
Our dear host MC MMK, Mr Kaylor, jumped onto the stage just in the right minute to introduce the first performers of the evening, the Vocal Trio PAK. Three deep and strong voices (in the throats of tree lovely girls) warmly welcomed the audience with songs such as Oh, happy day, Come on over, baby or Lady Marmelade.
Next on the program was Irish Cream, two guitars, one violin, and a bongo or in other words five musicians and singers introducing covers of Damien Rice or Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová. It was a shame to miss their performance for it really had a great atmosphere.
What followed was Barbora Konôpková, who though alone on the stage, had enough drive to attract the attention of the audience with songs by Alicia Keys, Paris Combo or from the musical Chicago. Yeah, no need for real Catherine Zeta-Jones. We have our very own Barbora Omega-Konôpková.
Then the stage belonged again for a while to MC MMK who acquainted the spectators with the history of the presents his parents sent him since he has been in Czech Republic, with the best of them, however, from his former students… No, sorry, I will not tell you what it was. No, really. I mean, if you don’t know what the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious present was, it means you missed the show and… just... how could you?!?
Alright. Then came more music with Lav-Lav singing their own songs and also covers of Cat Power and Tegan & Sara songs, and Black Unicorn with his very own songs For My Own Good, Statue or Fairy Tale.
Then came the De Saussure Complex, “a super duper extra special sophisticated surprise performance by our esteemed PhD students!” Well, have you ever had anything against students of English linguistics or English literature? After seeing this performance, you must sympathize with them whether you want or not. You must understand it is difficult to study the linguistic theory of Professor Čumský, for example. No easier than to penetrate Michel Fuckault’s philosophy. You know, our PhD students have problems too. They, too, have dilemmas. “Should I shave or should I grow?” one of the hard-working PhD students asked or “Should I stay or should I gay” pleaded for help another. They are the ones. They are the elite, someone we all want to follow. And, of course, they solved the still-discussed problems all students of English and American studies would sooner or later have to solve. So, thank you, thank you for all of us!
The theatre session continued with Cyranovy boty, a rhythmic theatre using djembe, dundun, ken ken and sang ban drums.
At the end of all the performances the stage was left to two bands with powerful melodies. Crash Road, a band that beside its own songs played covers of System of a Down, and Pavel Drábek jr. & Agáve 9 that created the perfect ending of the whole show.
DJ Adéla was then master of the hits that sounded in Fléda till the morning hours.

Pictures are available in the ESCape Magazine gallery on Picasa.

A Fantasy World Made Flesh

2008-05-05T08:56:00.003+02:00

On the 29th of April, the conference room at the Faculty of Arts witnessed an interesting event – the first (and hopefully not last) sci-fi and fantasy (sf+f) conference. The event was organized by the English Students’ Club and proudly entitled “Svět techniky a fantazie: společnost v zrcadle fantastiky”. It was attended not only by students but also by some influential people in the field; still, the atmosphere was far from strictly academic – maybe the “unofficial gathering” the night before, which ended around six in the morning, had something to do with it… And what about the “official” part? We heard many interesting contributions: First, those whose lives are fully controlled by sf+f were relieved to find out that they are in fact not so different from the “normal” people. Then Františka Vrbenská, the true “star” among Czech fans, gave one of her fascinating talks about myths and mythology and Vlado Ríša, the editor-in-chief of Ikarie, gave us a taste of what it is like to work in a magazine (a tough job indeed!). František Fuka, who has translated many films including the Star Wars series into Czech, revealed some thrills as well as drawbacks of film translation. In other contributions, we learned how the punk movement influenced the whole sf+f scene, what the different kinds of fan fiction are, how magic can control the lives of people (beware, it’s usually quite dangerous!), how the thinkers of the past imagined Utopia and much more – we had simply no time to get bored, and if anyone felt that sleepiness was creeping on them, there was always enough coffee to refresh the tired mind and body. Those who didn’t appear definitely missed out a lot!

-mš-

More pictures are available in the ESCape Magazine gallery on Picasa -- click here to go directly to the album.

Expedition No. 11: Chřiby -- Into the Heart of the Moravian Jungle

2008-05-05T08:28:00.014+02:00

The highlands of Chřiby are situated between the towns of Kyjov and Kvasice in the region of South Moravia. They are part of the geomorphologic area of the Middlemoravia-Carpathian Mountains and an external subprovince of the West-Carpathian Mountains. Chřiby Hills border on Ždánický les in the west and on the Lower-Moravian and Upper-Moravian Dales in the east. What connects Chřiby with Ždánický les (Expedition No. 9) is a similar kind of vegetation. However, the area of Chřiby Hills is much better preserved and both geographically and biologically more diverse. Especially the old people who live in the surrounding villages know a lot of legends about the hills, are proud of them, but usually don’t go there very often. They drink a lot of wine, are generally convinced that Moravian wines such as Frankovka are unique and simply best in the world, say a lot of “tož”, “furt”, “šak” and have a peculiar intonation that can remind one of singing. Most villages have their own folk costumes and hold a great number of folklore celebrations every year, some villages have folklore bands producing dulcimer music and every village has an elaborate set of rumours about its neighbouring villages.

The Chřiby Hills are unique and interesting for many reasons. Though the ridge is only 35 kilometers long and the whole area covers a mere 335 square kilometres, there are many archaeological localities there such as St. Kliment (Klimentek) near Osvětimany. This place was a Great Moravian fortified settlement with a church in the middle that is said to have been regularly visited by Cyril and Methodius in the 9th century. In my history lessons at high school I had to memorize the fact that it was the most probable place of Methodius’ burial. My history teacher was a zealous Moravian patriot and had no respect for any protesting voices. But there are many other places of historical interest in Chřiby such as the remains of Cimburk Castle, Buchlov Castle and the chateau in Buchlovice. Generally, there are also many places in the woods that remain rather mysterious as far as their history is concerned. When you walk the length and breadth of the highlands, you might come across many old roads and mounds of a not obviously meaningful location in the countryside.

The area is famous for its pristine beech forests and beautiful views. The natural reserve Holý kopec, for example, is an inseparable part of the Chřiby panorama but many people know only its northeastern end. If you ever find yourself on Holý kopec, keep following the ridge to the southwest and you’ll certainly be surprised. Besides walking through a jungle of a primeval beech forest, at the southwestern part of the ridge, you’ll find an amazing view of Chřiby with no settlements, buildings or cottages to be seen. Far and wide only forests. One member of the very last expedition called the view “Moravian Brazil”. And there are many more beautiful and special hidden places in Chřiby which aren’t part of any tourist trails, but these are far too beautiful to write about.

-lf-

Traditionally, some contributions from our expedition poets Lucy K. and Jakub Z.:

The Green Trip

Nothing what I’ve ever seen
Green, green, green:
Bright green
Spring green
Lime
Yellow-green
Kelly green
Green of pines
Wild bird’s cries.

Wet, wet, wet
Something I will not forget:
Wet trees
Wet grass
Wet us
Wet trainers
Wet boots
Wet all kinds of shoes
Stewed wet socks…

God bless the sekaná.

Untitled

Náš výlet do Chřibů, no to byl zážitek!
Promoklý, špinavý, smrdím jak dobytek.
Už nikdy nepudu do také sloty,
ešče že nám Laďa pučil suché boty.
Zážitků na měsíc mám z toho výletu,
zítra si nakópím gumáky v outletu.

ESCape invites you to...

2008-04-15T23:11:00.000+02:00

A Flowery Semester Start (Issue No. 16)

2008-03-31T16:49:00.009+02:00

Are you finally loaded up with the energy essential for this hard student life of ours? If yes, it’s because you are one of the many who visited this year’s historically first ever Spring Party which took place at club Mersey on March 4th 2008.

As the party was meant to be a celebration of the upcoming spring, “flower power” was all around the club. Whether it took the form of a student disguised as a cottage garden, wearing, I assumed, his grandmother’s night gown,or a truly natural form of bringing in the real flowers.

As the entrance was free for these proper spring enthusiasts, some late-comers even tried to claim their underwear had flower patterns just to get in for free. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) no one could prove those individuals right as it would probably require methods falling into a slightly different category of parties… It did not matter whether you came in as a dance freak or someone who prefers a chat with friends in the company of a pint of beer for I think you could have enjoyed the party either way. The ground floor of the club was occupied with dancers who from time to time exchanged the dance floor for comfy sofas, and the upper one was left to discoursing philologists. Maybe a little more inspiration from the Hippie generation would have made the club really blossom but after all there is always a next time.

The first visitors came after 8 pm and the last ones left at about 4 am. In the unlikely event that an effort such as this failed to bring some spring spirit into the moody rainy start of the semester then what remains is to hope that forthcoming events will make up for it!

-jš-

Pictures courtesy of Lenka Kaclerová

Interview with Nikki Fořtová (Issue No. 16)

2008-03-31T16:44:00.002+02:00

LK: As a warm-up question we would like to ask you: What do you like to nibble on?
NF: At the moment I like nibbling on sunflower seeds. Have you tried them?
LK+LF: Yes.
NF: They are particularly nice if you just grill them for a minute or two. Then put them in front of you on the table and nibble. Delicious!
LK: We nibble on them as well, they’re very nice. Let’s move to the next question. Where does your maiden name come from? What is the family history of your name?
NF: The name is Ukrainian, and as far as I know, my great-great-grandfather was Ukrainian. But my family is from the Czech Republic. My great-great-grandfather was a soldier and came to the Czech Republic – it might have been to Brno – met my great-great-grandmother, married her, they had babies, and that’s the story of the name. And now I’m Fořtová (laughs).
LF: Do you speak Czech as well?
NF: Very badly.
LK: That’s not true.
NF: Yes, it is.
LF: But you understand Czech very well.
NF: Yes, I can understand most things and I think I can get by in many situations with no problem.
LK: When did you and your family move from the Czech Republic?
NF: My mum and my dad emigrated separately in 1968 and they met at university in London. My mum’s parents emigrated with my mum, but my dad’s family stayed here. I was born in the UK.
LK: Did you come back to the Czech Republic after 1989?
NF: Yes. As soon as my parents were allowed to come back, we did. That was quite strange. I knew my family’s history and I’d heard all about my aunts, uncles and cousins. My father’s family was living in Modřany, which is a part of Prague. We went back there and it was a really strange experience to meet these people that I’d heard of but couldn’t really understand. I’m sure it was a strange experience for them as well.
LK: How old were you?
NF: Eleven. I think that my parents thought that from then on we could come here regularly. And we did to an extent, but we didn’t spend that much time with the rest of the family. My parents had made a life for themselves in the UK so moving back to the Czech Republic was never on the agenda.
LF: So you only spoke English in your family.
NF: Yes. My parents spoke Czech when they didn’t want us to understand. Oh, and they swore in Czech as well. My swearing is great. (laughs)
LK: Do you now talk with your parents in Czech?
NF: That’s the most ridiculous thing. When they phone me now they speak to me in Czech.
LF: So you don’t understand them and pretend that you do. (laughs)
NF: (laughs) Exactly. I don’t know why they do it, but they do.
LF: When you came to the Czech Republic did your impressions meet your expectations?
Did you have any expectations?
NF: I didn’t really have many expectations before I came here. My decision to come here was so fast. I met Bohumil in London and knew that I wanted to be with him. He said he had a job in Brno and had to go back to the Czech Republic. I decided to go with him. Within two months I’d left everything and come here. I’d been to Prague but I’d never been to Brno. I didn’t really know what to expect. I wasn’t disappointed.
LF: Do you like living in Brno?
NF: Sometimes I do. Yes, I do like Brno. I think it’s a nice size. It’s small enough to know everybody, which can also be annoying. It’s small enough to know where everything is, but on the other hand, if you want to get lost you can. There are so many different things to do. And the night life here is good. I like it here. What about you? Do you like Brno?
LK: Yes. I do. I like Brno.
LF: I don’t know. Sometimes I’d prefer a real city, sometimes I miss the country. But let’s leave Brno and move to the next question. What did you study?
NF: I studied Russian language and literature. I’d studied French and German at school and wanted to try something different. I found the language quite hard at first, but once I’d got used to the six cases and consonant clusters I thought – and still think – it’s a beautiful language. As part of my degree I had to spend a year abroad so I went to St Petersburg. I had a fantastic time. The city is unbelievable. The winter is incredibly depressing, long and dark in St Petersburg, but the summer is really something. They have white nights so it never gets dark and there’s so much happening all the time. I strongly recommend a trip.
LF: Yeah, I’d love to go to St. Petersburg to see the Hermitage Museum. Have you been there?
NF: Yeah, I spent a lot of time there.
LF: Do you have any favorite Russian authors?
NF: I had to study Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky as part of my degree, and I have to say I enjoy reading their books a lot more now that it’s not compulsory. My favorite Russian author is Viktor Pelevin. I also like Anna Achmatova’s poetry.
LF: Have you ever had a different job?
NF: Yes. When I graduated from the university I did CELTA and started teaching English. I then went back to Russia for a while and when I came back I started working at the Institute of Linguists in London. Have you heard of it?
LK+LF: No.
NF: It’s an organization that, among other things, offers exams for professional translators and interpreters. I’d heard of them because I’d been looking into interpreting courses and found their website. That’s where I saw a job advertised, so I applied and got it. I was working in a department called Language Services and I was involved in the examination process of children at school in the UK whose first language wasn’t English. It was still in the field of English language teaching but examining rather than teaching. One thing I really liked was going to schools and orally examining the children.
LK: What do you think about the methods in the Teacher’s Training Course?
NF: (laughs) Well, I don’t believe in any of the methods I teach, I just do it for the money. (laughs) What would you like to know? Whether or not I like them?
LF: Whether you use all of them when you’re teaching.
NF: Yeah, I do. I try to do what I tell the trainees to do! I don’t use drill as much as I should do though. That’s something I’m questioning. I know drilling is useful but it never makes it into my lessons as much as the books say it should.
LK: (laughs). Sorry. I’ve got a funny image in my head. Coming to the lesson with a drill.
NF: (laughs) Start drilling now!
LF: (laughs) Now take your drills and I would like you to drill this phrase into your desks!
NF: (laughs) Yeah. Sometimes that would be a better approach.
LF: That’s like a Monty Python sketch.
NF: It is, isn’t it? Anyway, yes, I do think the methods taught in the teacher training course are useful. You can really see the difference in the trainees’ teaching and the improvement in the language school students. It’s a nice feeling. But there are other methods which I’d love to see in the classroom. Have you heard of Suggestopedia?
LF+LK: No.
NF: I’ve only ever seen a video of a lesson using suggestopedia. The lesson started with some kind of yoga breathing techniques in order to completely relax the students. Then they closed their eyes and listened to some music, and while listening to the music the teacher read a dialogue, a bilingual dialogue. The students didn’t do anything, they just listened. I don’t know how it works. Maybe it’s like osmosis.
LK: (laughs) I love that!
LF: (laughs) Is it a bedtime method?
NF: (laughs) And there’s a method called the Silent Way. Have you seen it?
LK: No, no. But it sounds brilliant.
NF: The teacher has colored rods and holds them up.
LK: And the teacher doesn’t say a word?
NF: No not really. The teacher is supposed to remain mainly silent. I’d like to see that.
LK: Well, maybe it works because it makes you very attentive and concentrate.
NF: Steve Hardy said he’d seen it once. Or he used that method. I think he tried it and found it quite effective.
LF: So how does it work? I can’t imagine how it works.
NF: Neither can I. I just know that the teacher says as little as possible and somehow manages to conduct the lesson by using different colored rods and visual aids.
LK: Kind of a military language school. (laughs)
NF: I’d love to see it. And Suggestopedia too. It sounds great.
LK: What do you find particularly challenging or difficult about the teaching profession?
NF: I think the most challenging thing for me is to constantly motivate the students. Your mood really influences the lesson, and if you’re not having a very good day, the students are very sensitive and it effects how the lesson develops. I’m a morning person so teaching in the evening really takes all my energy and if I’m tired and the students are tired I really have to put my all into it to wake the students up and hold their attention. Other than that I really enjoy what I do. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I don’t think you can get such job satisfaction from any other job. It’s such a good feeling to see happy faces when the students have enjoyed the lesson, and dare I say, learnt something.
LK: Or when you’re doing an activity, which is funny, and they are just enjoying themselves. It’s perfect.
NF: Yes, It’s fantastic to see that. Another thing that is demanding is preparation. It takes a long time but when the lesson goes well because you planned it well, it’s brilliant. But very time-consuming.
LF: Do you think you’re becoming quicker when making preparations?
NF: Definitely. As soon as you get used to the level you’re teaching you begin to know exactly where to resource things plus you can recycle your materials. You learn how to use the coursebooks and that makes life a lot easier. When I started teaching it took ages to prepare a lesson. The preparation took longer than the lesson itself!
LF: Is there something you’re afraid of?
NF: Flying. I’m absolutely petrified. I’ve always been an apprehensive flyer but my fear has reached it’s peak. We started watching ‘Seconds to Disaster’.
LF+LK: (laughs)
NF: It’s an air-crash investigation program. It’s terrible! It’s on the Discovery Channel. It just shows you one air-crash after another. The worst thing is that there’s usually nothing wrong with the plane. It’s usually human error.
LF: Isn’t it the same when you’re sitting in a car?
NF: I agree with you. But the chances of survival, not always, are higher if you’re traveling by car rather than by plane.
LF: What’s the best way to relax for you?
NF: Different ways. Sometimes it’s as simple as putting on an episode of ‘Sex and the City’, and just lying in front of my computer and watching it.
LK: Or watching ‘Seconds to Disaster’.
NF: No. (laughs) Or going for walks. I find walking through the forest very relaxing.
LK: Where do you go for walks?
NF: Just behind our flat. We live in Lesná and behind us there are woods that take you out to different villages. It’s amazing! So different to London. I sometimes exercise to relax, but not very often. And that’s how I relax at the moment. What do you guys do?
LF: I read and then the same. I love walking. And there are so many beautiful trails in the surroundings of Brno.
NF: Yes, that’s another thing that I like about Brno. On the one hand you’re in a city where there’s so much going on, but on the other hand within 5 minutes you’re surrounded by forests and away from everything.
LK: I like to sing.
NF: Sing? Where do you sing? In your bedroom?
LK: Yeah. I play guitar and sing. Or just listen to some music. It’s similar to walking. You walk different landscapes. You go out to sonic landscapes. What kind of music do you like to listen to?
NF: I like almost everything, but I’m not really into house or dance music. I like Jeff Buckley, Jack Peñate, and I’ve just bought Amy Whinehouse’s new album Back to Black. I think she’s very talented. Her voice is really powerful; it’s very different to other people’s. I really like her style.
LF: Do you listen to classical music as well? Perhaps Russian classical music? (laughs)
NF: (laughs) Rarely. Sometimes Bohumil does at home and if it’s on, it doesn’t bother me, but I wouldn’t actively go and put something classical on as I don’t know much about classical music. But I love music and I love being surrounded by music.
LF: Beatles or Rolling Stones?
NF: Rolling Stones.
LK: Dogs or cats?
NF: Dogs.
LF: Have you found any treasures among Czech dishes?
NF: Yes, kulajda. There’s a pub around the corner from where we live which makes the best kulajda I’ve ever tasted. I like Czech food, it’s very tasty. I don’t really like spicy food so Czech food is perfect for me. But I don’t like dumplings.
LK: Is there a British dish you miss?
NF: Yes, jacket potatoes. A Jacket potato is a baked baking potato. You put the potato in the oven and bake it for maybe an hour and a half with the skin on it. When it’s done the skin is crispy and inside it’s nice and soft. You can fill it with almost anything. I haven’t seen baking potatoes here anywhere. In Britain it’s a really common dish and it’s sold everywhere. That’s what I miss.
LK: Is there something else you miss about Britain?
NF: Yes, I miss my friends and my family. And I also miss knowing how certain things function in society. In the UK if I need help, I just pick up the phone and I know who to call when something happens. Whereas here I think, oh god, I don’t know who I’m supposed to ring. I’m not confident speaking on the phone in Czech, which doesn’t help. But that’s normal when you live somewhere new. I had an unpleasant experience about a year ago actually. I was coming home from work to the panalak we lived in at the time and an old man on the first floor was leaning out of his window waving a fly swatter at me. He started shouting “Can you help me, can you help me?!” So I asked what’s wrong and he said: “Just call the doctor, call the doctor!” It was then I realized that I didn’t know the number for an ambulance. He began to shout “My wife is dying.” And I really began to panic as I had no idea who to turn to for help. Luckily a passer-by stepped in and an ambulance was called. It turned out the old man’s wife was just sleeping and not dying thank God. Anyway, that really shook me.
LF: So can you remember the number now or should we use the method of drilling to practice them? (laughs)
NF: (laughs) Yes, I know it very well now.
LF+LK: Thank you for the interview, it was very nice to talk to you.
NF: Thank you too.

-luk-, -lf-

Erasmus at University of Alicante or the “Mañana” Attitude in Everyday Life

2008-03-31T13:23:00.011+02:00

Each nation or culture has some stereotyping labels assigned. Some people accept them, others challenge them, and still others go and prove them wrong. I have to admit that before I came here I had many. However, even if you take all the stereotypes about Spain and Spaniards you can think of and multiply them by three, you will only get a very rough image of what the life around here is really like…

The Little Differences
First of all, it’s almost hard to believe how very few people speak English. And I’m not talking about random people on the streets but let’s say university students or people at the mobility office!! You have to learn Spanish as fast as possible otherwise you’ll stay homeless and hungry (or alternatively, start studying before you arrive). While learning you will soon realize that the most important concepts have not been included in the dictionary… For example “ahora” doesn’t really mean “now” but “sometime today” and “mañana” is not “tomorrow” but rather a general expression referring to an unspecified future (anything up to about a week). You’ll also find out that there are two basic modes of operation: summer/winter or tourists/ no tourists. Buses, shops, banks, everything… Opening hours are as variable as the owner’s fancy. And then, of course, the siesta – don’t even think of buying anything from 1 to 5 p.m. (even some “24hora” stores are closed). What’s important is that the shopkeepers can have their meal in peace and enjoy their rest afterwards. Or that the bus driver can have a nice chat with a colleague which means you’re going to be late for school or work. No one really cares. About anything. What counts though are the parties. And enjoying every little joy of life. So you can either be frustrated about it (which I was through my first week) or go with the flow and enjoy it too (which you’ll end up doing very soon).

Castillo de Santa Barbara

University
Most of the time you’re lucky if the teacher shows up at all. Lessons usually start about 10 to 20 minutes late, that is normal. After 20 minutes you should start looking for the teacher and if you don’t find him or her anywhere, you can go home. I don’t know whether this is a problem at the English Department only or an issue throughout the whole university but compared to what is required at MU some of these guys wouldn’t even pass the entrance exam. Most of the classes offered at the “Filología Inglesa” department are in Spanish. Most of the teachers use only Spanish. Most of the students use only Spanish (except for those who have been Erasmusing somewhere off in an English-speaking country). Which essentially means that without at least basic knowledge of the language you will feel a bit isolated. Or you will find yourself hanging out with the other Erasmuses from all around the world. (An average Thursday night out: nine people, eight different home countries, seven different mother tongues.) The really cool thing here is the campus. Huge, beautiful, full of palms and other tropical plants. And the local “club social”. If I said it’s like our menza, I’d be lying – it’s about a thousand times better with a wide choice of food and drinks for reasonable prices. 10 to 15 different yummy dishes to choose from (though vegetarians would be disappointed), 2 to 3 kinds of fish every day, coffee from a real espresso machine and tables cleaned for you!

Campus of University of Alicante

Student Life
As mentioned before, Spain is the place to party. Nothing is more important then one’s social life . You can always sleep “mañana” and study the day before the exam. Students (i.e. people who don’t have to go to work on Friday morning) usually go out on Thursday and Saturday nights. Going out means starting out around 11 to 12 p.m. and going on dancing and/or socializing till 7 to 8 a.m. One of the first Spanish expressions I learned here is “botellon” which refers to a group of people pooling their money, buying cheap alcohol in a “mercadona” and drinking it in the streets, on the beach, at the local “castillo” (fort-like object in the center of Alicante) or at someone’s house (bars are quite expensive) and then it’s time for “salir de marcha” which means going from club to club according to the music playing at the moment. Since studying here is not that demanding you have plenty of time to recover the following day or to explore other parts of the country or just lie on the beach and read…
Ideal vacation – semester long.

-lp-

La Explanada, symbol of Alicante

Culture Column: One World (Issue No. 16)

2008-03-31T13:12:00.007+02:00

Five animated characters forming a music band – Alexander Lukashenko (Belarus), Fidel Castro (Cuba), Kim Jong-il (North Korea), Robert Mugabe (Zimbabwe) and Than Shwe (Burma) – are playing out of tune. Before they are stopped by tomatoes coming from a disgusted audience.

Those who went to the One World film festival certainly remember Jan Balej’s witty short movie that introduced each screening. Every year one of the leading and the biggest human rights festival in Europe organized by People in Need took place in a number of Czech towns and cities – the second week of March in Brno. The tenth edition of the festival was dedicated to the Nobel Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi and the people of Burma. The documentaries were not, however, only concerned with the situation in the above mentioned countries, some of them focused on Russia, Iran, Israel, and Congo among others. The festival presented over a hundred films in several thematic sections. I saw about ten of the movies and what follows is a brief mosaic of my impressions and connections I saw between some of them.

Information Chaos and Propaganda
Some blue (not green) people in this country would certainly despise the American documentary entitled Everything’s Cool, aptly translated into Czech as Globální pohoda. The film presents a number of American veterans fighting for political and public recognition of climate change who have amassed more than a substantial amount of hard evidence of climate change. The work of these people is constantly being challenged by “disputers” in the media whose methods are very simple (and can remind one of the methods used by Holocaust deniers): it doesn’t really matter who wins or loses the debate, the main thing is that the public can see “both sides of the problem” and begins to doubt the facts. The disputers thus imply or openly state that global warming is a hoax – facts are being challenged with lies. Though the movie speaks about some prevention measures that has been taken on both global and local levels and sometimes even adopts a comic tone, it shows that the misinformation campaign sponsored by some oil and coal companies continues to challenge the scientific evidence of humankind being in extreme danger and that these forces remain unstoppable.

Another movie concerned with the power of the media which evokes a similar mood of despair is Jihad TV. As the commentator says at the very beginning, “a suicide bomber’s smile for the camera becomes as much a weapon of the propaganda as the bomb that he’s going to set off.” Designed to inspire its supporters and terrify its enemies, the propaganda machines use advanced technologies and globalization of images to ideologically or religiously manipulate the public. Special TV channels and computer games as well as the easily accessible internet in countries where people often struggle for everyday life enable to entice even children with the feeling of power, of “becoming a warrior.” Probably the most disturbing message is that the production and global distribution of most of the propaganda images is practically uncontrollable as the networks of organizations that produce them doesn’t have any kind of centre. Since the images are often homemade products, easily distributed via the Internet, they become part of the information flow and are thus everywhere and nowhere.

Autocracies and Terror
Letter to Anna by Swiss director Eric Bergkraut pays tribute to the Russian journalist Anna Politkovska, one of the critics of Putin’s policy, who wrote about human rights, focused on the so-called “Second Chechen War” and was murdered in 2006. The documentary shows a journalist who had taken a resolute stand on – as she calls it in the movie – the “genocidal” Russian policy in Chechnya. In a number of shots from interviews with Politkovska herself, her colleagues, family and other critics of Putin’s government, the film gives a portrait of a courageous woman who was determined to fight for the truth despite being fully aware of her most likely fate. However, the movie doesn’t glorify Politkovska, rather it presents her as a person who took the situation as a fact of life and, at the same time, it comments on the unsettling social and political situation in Russia.

The theme of Russian autocracy and its effects on the country is outlined in two documentaries – A Different Life showing desperate conditions in the Irkutsk country district where unemployment and poverty go hand in hand with alcoholism and home violence, and, Durakovo: Village of Fools. The latter portrays a life in a residence of Mikhail Mozorov, a man who is determined to revive the history of the Russian empire by creating a new army – a group of servants who work for him in his nest of luxury and whom he, in return, gives shelter and, above all, faith. When one of the servants asks his lord about democracy, Mozorov provides a very eloquent answer in which Putin’s concept of the “vertical of power” serves as the main argument.

Whether we speak about Letter to Anna or the other two documentaries, all of them give a portrait of an increasingly autocratic Russia. A whole section of the festival movies called “Putin’s Empire” was devoted to this country. But autocratic regimes and dictatorships were also the main theme of a number of other films such as North Korea, A Day in the Life and Kalinovski Square about the corrupted presidential election in Belarus in March 2006 and Lukashenko’s power. Another example can be a movie called Prayer of Peace about civil war and terror on civilians in Burma that is governed by the military junta.

Festival Echoes
Visiting One World can, indeed, become rather a sad experience. Though most of the movies are very interesting and educational as they present the viewer with information about places that we usually don’t hear or read about (!), their overall outlook is dire. There were movies, such as the one about the situation of women in Congo where rape and other forms of brutality are facts of everyday life, which I didn’t dare go and see. The website www.jedensvet.cz says that one of the festival’s objectives is to contribute “to the public discussion about the role that the Czech citizen and the Czech Republic can and should have in a globally interconnected world and in the world in which we live in.” It certainly contributed to the discussions that my friends and I sometimes have. Though one can experience the pathos of a brief emotional catharsis, the movies can also be inspiring and foster thoughtful reflection of our actions. As the journalists Ross Gelbspan in Everything’s Cool says, we may not be able to change the politics of some huge corporations, but we can certainly change quite a lot of things in our own everyday life.

-lf-

Culture Corner: Elsinore (Issue No. 16)

2008-03-31T13:05:00.006+02:00

The Department of English and American Studies provides its students with many opportunities; none better than the ones they have created for themselves… It is an honor for ESCape Magazine to facilitate the presentation of another periodical, which — though written largely for an informed scholarly audience — adds yet another facet to what our home department has to offer.

The Bohemian-Moravian William Shakespeare Students' Society has recently published the second issue of the Elsinore journal. Elsinore offers a space for all students interested in presenting their contributions on any issue related to William Shakespeare and Elizabethan drama and poetry. The current issue is thematically consistent with the articles and essays section concentrating on one play in particular, Shakespeare's Hamlet. David Vichnar, a Prague student interested in Renaissance drama, wrote an essay on “silence” in Hamlet and Markéta Polochová presented an article discussing Tom Stoppard’s inspiration drawn from Shakespeare. The issue also consists of reviews focusing mainly on performances of two plays, Macbeth and The Merchant of Venice. The content is enriched by a collection of articles which were presented at the first student conference called The Year's Work in Czech Shakespearean Studies. It took place at our department last year and it was our pleasure to invite students from other universities.

The Society would be pleased if you could read Elsinore and share your opinion with us. Most importantly, however, we welcome students interested in contributing to our journal. If you have an idea for an article, which you might have outlined in one of your seminar essays, for example, please do not hesitate to contact us. We also welcome book and theatre reviews. B oth existing issues are now available for download at www.cmssws.cz. You can also buy the bulletin in the SAC and the Skriptárna Bookshop (Arna Nováka 1).

Jana Přidalová

Expedition No. 10: The Phenomenon of Bledule or An Ideal Trail for Nineteenth-Century Figures (Issue No. 16)

2008-03-31T12:47:00.013+02:00

If you sometimes feel like a nineteenth-century figure – you prefer the oldfashioned sms to msn and walking to driving a car with gps, and, you tend to get carried away when looking at some natural phenomena such as a vast field of flowers, for example – it’s very likely that you find this trail attractive, especially around the beginning of March.

Being busy with work, I couldn’t find any time to think about the right trail for the next expedition that our famous group of outdoor lovers was planning. Where could one go in such a cold time of the year when the sky tends to be opaque and gray as it was at the beginning of March? The only trails I could think of were those which I wanted to keep for the upcoming, full-leaved months. Finally, Jana Tomášková sent an e-mail suggesting a place worth exploring: Údolí bledulí (Snowflake Valley). What a great idea!

This phenomenal valley is officially called “Údolí Chlébského potoka” – that’s what you find on the map at least. The best way to get there is perhaps to take a train from Brno to Doubravník and go to Skorotice, Křížovice and then to the valley of a phenomenon that you’ll read about in a second. From the valley you can simply continue to Nedvědice to catch a train back to Brno. Here is a detailed and accurate map of the trail:

And so we wandered lonely as a crowd, enjoying the occasional showers of pleasant cool rain drops rolling down our faces. But before we came to the valley that we all like to remember, we had gone through Křížovice – a small village worth stopping in to visit an art gallery called “Z ruky”. The gallery may be very interesting, but we weren’t lucky. It’s open from April on. And so we had to continue in a persistent gentle drip to Skorotice and, finally, we came to the magic valley.

They were everywhere! Behind you, beside you, in front of you and we were beside ourselves. They were dancing and laughing and so were we. The fields of their narrow, dark green leaves and small, bell-shaped flowers were endless and we felt enchanted by their slight fragrance. We danced with them all afternoon till the sunset. In the starry night, we couldn’t tell them apart from the sky. And now we keep them in our minds. We are nineteenth-century figures.

-lf-

Interview with Matthew Nicholls (Issue No. 15)

2008-02-24T22:29:00.008+01:00

MN: So, I’d like to welcome you both - to your rather modest kitchen.
LF: Thank you for welcoming us.
LK: We welcome you to our kitchen too.
MN: Thank you. It’s very nice to be here.
LF: Thank you. So what was the first question?
LK: I don’t know, can’t think of any…
MN: I thought it was on the paper.
LF: No, we have plenty of questions but we don’t have the first one. The list begins with the second one.
LK: What would you like the first question to be?
MN: That was the first question, wasn’t it? (laughs)
LF: (laughs) In a way, yes.
MN: Oh god, I have no idea, I’m sorry.
LF: Never mind.
LK: I know! What animal do you like?
MN: Monkeys. Apes.
LK: Why apes?
MN: Because they’re… I don’t know. Because there’s something melancholic about apes. And they’re quite close to humans. They’re more intelligent than dolphins and creatures like that, you know.
LF: Hm.. (laughs)
LK: Aha.. (laughs)
MN: (laughs) It’s a very intelligent answer, isn’t it?
LF: Do you think you’re a melancholic?
MN: Yes, I think I am quite a melancholic person. Does the word sentimentalist exist? Let me ask you a question. Does the word sentimentalist exist? Is there a school of sentimentalism?
LF: I think the word definitely exists and there might even be a school of sentimentalism in painting or something like that.
MN: Ok, well, I’m certainly a very sentimental person. Melancholic and sentimental.
That’s the most I can say.
LK: Are you an ape?
MN: (laughs) Yes, I’m certainly an ape in spirit.
LF: (laughs) What does it mean?
MN: To be ape in spirit? (laughs)
LF: Yes. Because what you say is rather vague. What should we imagine?
MN: To be melancholic. (laughs) Yes, certainly. It’s rather circular, but… (laughs)
LK: (laughs) Ok, I think we should get to the proper questions now. Or do you want to add something?
MN: No, I think the proper questions would be welcome now.
LF: All right, so the first proper question is: Why did you come to the Czech Republic?
MN: That was for a number of largely personal reasons. Mainly negative ones in the sense that I wanted to escape. First of all, I wanted to escape Britain in general. And second, I wanted to escape from my life there, which had become rather stagnant and miserable. And why the Czech Republic? Well, that was mainly because I wanted to go somewhere which for me was kind of romantic and exotic. And what used to be the Eastern Block was very exotic for me, because, of course, it was forbidden. Well, I mean largely forbidden. But I also had a kind of association with Czechoslovakia (as it was), because when I was very young, my father worked here. He was an industrial chemist and he worked for a company, the boss of which was an eastern European emigre who was very much against the Cold War and wanted to establish trading links with the Eastern Block. So my father worked all over Eastern Europe – he was working in Russia when my brother was born in the fifties, and he worked in Czechoslovakia for about six months in the nineteen-sixties. And so I remember going to school in clothes from Czechoslovakia, because part of my father’s salary was paid in Czechoslovak crowns and there was really nothing to buy except food or clothes or crystal glass. And my father didn’t want to come home with suitcases full of glass, so he came with practical things like clothes. I have a school photograph from when I was about five - me wearing a Czechoslovak shirt. And, also, one of my favourite children’s books was Zahrada by Jiří Trnka. The English translation was called Through the Magic Gate and it was identical to the Czech edition – the pictures and layout were exactly the same. And of course, in 1968 I was at primary school and I remember the shock of the invasion, so the name Czechoslovakia was always a part of my childhood to some extent. Anyway, when I thought about coming to ‘eastern’ Europe, I didn’t want to go too far from home, because I’m not really a very adventurous person. I wanted to go somewhere that was fairly close, and that meant Hungary, Poland or the Czech Republic. And I had particular associations with the Czech Republic so that’s where I went.
LF: What were your first impressions when you came here? Did they meet your expectations?
MN: That was in 1993 and people in the west – especially British people – were very poorly informed, and had very stereotypical ideas about life in Eastern Europe. They just imagined that there were queues for bread and queues for this and that. My colleagues at the school where I worked told me, “Oh you should take over a suitcase full of jeans so you can sell them.” I instinctively knew that these ideas were stupid, that life here was really quite normal. But even so I still remember... I was taking my cassette player, and I wasn’t sure if I could get the right kind of plug or fitting for it, so I also remember taking over about sixteen batteries, wondering how last they would long… how last they would long? (laughs)
LK: (laughs) How long they would last.
MN: Yeah. But of course, I quite quickly discovered that it was no problem at all. But, sorry, the question was about my first impressions. They were very very positive. It was really quite magical I have to say. Especially my first year in Chrudim, where I first worked. Absolutely magical. It really was a very positive time. And then, you know, two or three years later, I realised there were things that weren’t quite so good and maybe needed improving. But in general, the feeling I had when I came here was very very positive.
LK: What do you like or dislike about Czech people?
MN: Well, it’s always very very dangerous to generalise, but of course, you have to generalise to some extent simply to answer the question. So what I like about Czech people is that they’re generally quite easy-going and non-confrontational compared to some other nationalities. Also they’re not very nationalistic – or rather they’re quite ambilvalent somehow about being Czech. When the Czech football team wins, it’s kind of “We’re the best! And we’re such a small country!” When the Czech football team loses, it’s: “Well, of course we lost! We’re only a small country.” That’s what I quite like and can identify with. I also like their humour and cynicism, which, in many ways, is quite English. And of course the longer you stay in a place, the more people you get to know and you find that people are friendly and supportive. And what I don’t like… There are maybe two things... maybe the attitude of some people, which is perhaps understandable, given the kind of political history of the country. What can be really annoying is that people will sit on the fence. They won’t show their hand, they won’t share their opinion, they won’t say what they think until they know what the general consensus is. They seem to be afraid of somehow questioning the prevailing hierachy – or just too humble, too modest. Another aspect is that, too often, people will sacrifice the idea of principle for expediency and what’s convenient.
LF: What is expediency?
MN: Doing something which is kind of quick and easy in order to get a result rather then doing the right or best thing. And I think that this society often still functions on the basis of what is convenient or expedient and not according to what is right. I don’t mean to say that Czech people are not moral. I don’t mean that at all! But I think that there is a tendency to react to problems in a short-term expedient way, rather than to act consistently according to some set of universal rules. But I think that this is slowly changing, especially with younger people, who are becoming more aware of their rights and more willing to claim them.
LK: Is there something you had in Britain and now you miss it?
MN: The sea. I think that’s the only thing, because my parents live on the coast in Wales and it’s very beautiful there. I miss the sea. I mean, going to Bystrc is nice on a sunny day but it’s a poor substitute for the Irish Sea or the Atlantic. But I think that that’s the only thing I practically miss about Britain.
LK: Now we’d like to move on to your carrier. (laughs)
MN: (laughs) What carrier? My carrier ended when I came to the Czech Republic.
LK: Your teaching carrier. What do you like about teaching?
MN: If I’m brutally honest, I’m not at all interested in the theory of teaching or the theory of education. I’m not interested in teaching from a theoretical point of view and I hardly ever read books about teaching.
LF: Yeah, you’re not the only one. But what do you like about the job?
MN: What I like about the job is that you’re working with people, it’s the relationships you have with people. And also if you’re imaginative and inventive, which I think I am to some degree, it’s a very good job in which you can use your imagination and inventiveness – because it’s a challenge each week, in each lesson, to go in and try to make it interesting or entertaining. I’m not saying I always succeed, but I enjoy the challenge. And that’s what I enjoy about teaching. It’s the challenge to make it useful and, at the same time, enjoyable for the students. And also the relationship with the people. That’s the important thing for me. What I know about the theory of education I could probably write on the back of a postage stamp. But both of you teach, so what do you enjoy about teaching?
LF: I also like working with people. And another thing is that you’re basically your own boss and the work makes sense to me.
LK: I like being with people as well and I like creating some kind of relaxed atmosphere.
MN: Yeah, I think that’s very important. Though, at the same time, some people are better when they are under pressure, when they are stressed. And I should say I’m not the kind of teacher who could put people under pressure, make them feel stressed. That’s just not in my character. But I’m not saying that that’s not a legitimate way to teach. I just can’t do that.
LK: How do you imagine an ideal student?
MN: Oh gosh, an ideal student…
LK: Maybe you could just look at us and describe us… (laughs)
MN: (laughs) I think that an ideal student is just someone who wants to learn and I think that that’s the only criterion. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad at the subject. If they want to learn, then they will probably learn something. There’s nothing worst than trying to teach someone who doesn’t want to learn because there’s no point in doing that.
LF: Can you see yourself doing a different job? If so, what would it be?
MN: Yes, if I could make money through writing, I would happily make money through writing. An ideal job would be a job where you don’t have to go somewhere. An ideal job would just be wherever you want to be. In a café, at home, anywhere…
LF: So does it mean that you don’t like the department building?
MN: (laughs) No, I don’t mind… You know, teaching at a university department is the kind of job where you, generally speaking, don’t have anybody looking over your shoulder. So if you wanted to, in a way, abuse the system and just simply appear when you physically had to teach and then disappear and just not spend any time in the building – that would be possible. But ironically enough, I probably spend more time in my office – and happily so – than I would do if I were working in an office job. Because the atmosphere is such that it’s really...and I should be careful what I say because the word “hobby” has slightly frivolous connotations...that it’s really a kind of hobby. In that respect, “coming to work” isn’t any kind of hassle. Monday morning has no fear for me, I quite enjoy it.
LK: We know that you are writing books in your free time.
MN: Well, in all honesty, I haven’t done much for a long time. I just haven’t had the time or the energy or motivation. So I have various things which haven’t been touched for several months.
LK: But you have written some.
MN: Yes, a handful of novels.
LK: And you write children’s books so what attracts you to this kind of genre?
MN: At the moment, I’m half-way through this trilogy of fantasy novels. I really dislike the standard fantasy literature because nine out of ten times you can guarantee that it’s about dragons or elves, witches, wizards and magic spells, and I just find this so boring. Desperately boring. I just hate Harry Potter and the whole concept of it. It wasn’t my intention to write a children’s fantasy which has no magic in it, but that’s how it’s turned out. The books I’m writing are fantastic in their way, but they’re based on a kind of off-beat reality and there’s nothing inexplicable in it. I just find all this magic business – all the wizards and spells – unoriginal. In most of these books, evil has no purpose – it’s just an abstract concept which is empty, completely empty. Evil is about greed, it’s about violence, about selfishness, real things. It’s not about simply wanting to kill Harry Potter. I’d do that tomorrow if I had the chance.
LF: So are your books for adults as well?
MN: I think that the trilogy I’ve written could be enjoyed by any age really.
LF: Where do you get your inspiration?
MN: I have no idea. I could always read when I was a child but I never read. I hated reading. I remember reading my first proper book when I was about ten. My brother was a book worm. He read The Lord of the Rings when he was seven and he was always very bright. My parents like reading and they always encouraged me to read but I was just absolutely against reading. It was like a feeling of resentment that I should have to read. It was terrible.
LK: Did you feel bored when reading?
MN: I just didn’t understand the concept that books could be pleasurable. So I don’t know where my inspiration to write comes from. I mean, I do read now. I don’t read crap. I tend to read the classics – or good modern literature, particularly American fiction. So I just ignore 95% of what’s on bookshelves, especially contemporary British stuff. I just ignore it because, in my opinion, it’s mostly rubbish.
LF: But there are some good pieces as well…
MN: Yeah, I’m sure there are. I’m just being very provocative. What I mean is that in contemporary British literature there’s a kind of mafia – a circle of writers – who are nearly always nominated for the Booker Prize, and they all endorse each other’s books. Like writer A endorses writer B’s book and writer B endorses writer A’s book and I just find that a little bit incestuous. Well, I’m not an academic, I’m not a literary person.
LF: You don’t need to be an academic to talk about books.
MN: Well, maybe not.
LF: Well, definitely not. (laughs)
MN: (laughs) I just think that a lot of modern literature, and again I use the term advisedly because I’m not an academic, is simply bad – especially the self-consciously post-modern stuff. It’s all “fur coat no knickers”, or rather, it’s all style over substance. And I’m just not interested. When I’m reading a book, I’m not interested if the subtext of every paragraph is: Oh, look how clever this is! I’m just not interested. And a particular example of that would be Jeanette Winterson, who I absolutely detest as a writer. Not because she’s a radical feminist but because she’s just a dreadful novelist. I have nothing against feminism. I would describe myself as an armchair feminist, but Jeanette Winterson is just an awful writer. She’s a wonderful stylist, but that’s all – her books are so empty, they lack real feeling and real meaning. A much better writer than her would be the Pulitzer prize-winning American Michael Chabon, for example – or even John Irving. But that’s just my humbler opinion. Am I saying too much?
LF: No, I think it’s OK. I don’t know many of the contemporary British authors. But I’ve read some really good contemporary Czech writers. I was really impressed by some of them. I don’t think they write just to earn money or sound sophisticated.
MN: And they told a good story.
LF: Yes, definitely.
MN: Who for example? Because I’m curious and I’m very ignorant about these things. If I think of Czech literature, the names that spring to mind are the obvious ones, and then modern people like Michal Viewegh, who I know is kind of a…
LF: Well, I don’t like Michal Viewegh.
MN: No, he’s bit of a joke really. But who would you say is a writer of substance, a contemporary Czech writer of substance?
LF: Recently, I’ve really enjoyed reading Jan Balabán’s stories.
MN: And what’s the theme? Is it human relationships?
LF: Yes. Relationships and life in general. What I like about him is that he speaks about pain being a part of human life. His books are very human and he’s a good storyteller. I felt like I could identify with some if his characters, though I think that he doesn’t speak so much about my generation as about people a bit older than me. And I think we’ve got some good poets as well. But I don’t know much about contemporary British literature.
MN: I mean, I hold my hands up, because I don’t really know much about contemporary British Literature either. I just know what I like, which is a good story with real feeling. And there are some very good British novels… a book I finished recently is The French Lieutenant’s Woman by John Fowles. And that’s wonderful!
LF: But that’s a classic as well.
MN: And maybe that’s it. It was written nearly forty years ago, so I guess it would be regarded as classic literature today. But you know, now I’m approaching fifty so it seems like a comparatively young book. (laughs)
LF: Besides coming to the Czech Republic, are there any other important events that changed your life or influenced you in some way?
MN: Oh, gosh. That’s an interesting question. I think the reason I came to the Czech Republic was because absolutely nothing significant had happened in my life until that time. And that was why I was so unhappy. My life was so bland. And on the personal level so unfulfilled. That was the reason why I had to escape. So I can’t think of any other significant event actually.
LF: And what about people? Are there any people you were really influenced by in your life?
MN: Maybe there was an English teacher when I was bout fourteen or fifteen who was quite encouraging. I used to write things just for homework and he used to think they were quite good. I remember him with affection I guess. And I remember somebody saying something to me once which was profound, a very simple profound thing. It was a girl I was crazily in love with for a while but of course she wasn’t in love with me, because I really was a bit of a loser. (pause) But she said, “If you want someone to love you, you have to love yourself.”
LF: Yeah. I’ve heard that as well.
MN: Yes. I think probably most people have. It’s a very painful lesson to learn. And it took me another ten or eleven years to put that into practice. But I would say that I probably love myself a bit more than I did and feel a little bit happier with myself maybe for that reason. So that was significant.
LF: Have you ever achieved something in your life that you are really proud about?
MN: Proud of.
LF: Proud of. Sorry.
MN: Don’t worry. Proud of, proud of…That’s difficult. I think one thing I’m quite proud of is that silly musical we did – Bohevian Fairytale. Because that was actually the third time it’s been performed. The first time was in Hradec Králové in 1997, then at the Pedagogical Faculty here in 2001, and then at the Faculty of Arts – was it 2005? Yeah, nearly three years ago. And it was successful every time. And I was quite proud of that. Yeah, that was concretely successful and involved a lot of people and they seemed to enjoy it.
LK: One of the last questions is where would you like to retire?
MN: I would like to retire where my loved ones are. Assuming that I would be with at least my partner or children or whatever, then I think the place that I would like to retire when I’m very old is by the sea in Wales. Maybe.
LK: OK. Is there something you would like to conclude with?
MN: Gosh. Well I’d just like to say thank you very much for taking the time to interview me and I’m sure there are many more interesting people.
LK: But you finally had your say.
MN: Yes.
LF: I think you are interesting.
MN: I was incredibly fed up that I had to wait this long. I want to know why Jeff was before me! Anyway, I enjoyed it.
LF+LK: We enjoyed it as well. Thank you.

-luk- & -lf-

Expedition No. 9: Pálava (Issue No. 15)

2008-02-24T22:11:00.028+01:00

8.31 a.m. The sky is crystal clear. A very sunny but windy day. Everyone is excited. This is another group expedition. People keep telling jokes and laughing. So far we’ve covered the distances from our flats in Brno to the main station. Now we’re sitting on the train going to Popice and some are eating already. This expedition is going to be a lot about eating. That’s how it is when you go with a bunch of people.

The plan is to go from Popice to Mikulov – 17 km, altitude differential about 530m. Some of us are looking at the map. Others are talking. About their exams, credits, České dráhy, snacks, řízky, boots, hiking, Pálava, football and life in general. Řízky sound like a joke, who would take řízky on an expedition?!

One of the passengers sitting very close to us asks whether we can speak English. “Well, yes, more or less,” answers someone of us. The passenger – a smiling old man who seems to enjoy speaking to young people – is handing us a manual for a car battery giving information in a number of languages but Czech. One of the advantages of studying English: you can help other passengers with battery manuals in English.

9.12 a.m. Popice. The landscape around us is very flat with a lot of vineyards looking somewhat deserted in this time of the year. Pavlov hills are expecting us on the horizon.

10.17 a.m. We’re crossing Nové mlýny dams consisting of three water dams – two of them are used for recreation, the third one is an ornithological preserve. Dead trees in the water remind one of some disturbing stories about building of this hydro work in the 70s and 80s: flooded villages and buried alluvial forests. A little church on an island.

11.28 a.m. Having climbed up to Dívčí hrad (the first peak on the way), we’re breathing heavily, sweating, smiling, taking photos of amazing views and enjoying our first proper snack. When an expedition has, let’s say, more than five members, snack pauses gain a new refreshing dimension as they bring together a group of people otherwise scattered on the way. It’s very likely that this isn’t the last snack pause.

12.25 p.m. Small chirping groups of pairs or trios are walking over a steppe, passing a peak called Děvín, heading for a hill called Obora. The topic of everyone’s conversation keeps changing as the combination of people walking next to each other changes. The white limestone rock of Obora along with an exceptional view over Nové mlýny make one feel like somewhere in the Mediterranean. Some of us are speaking about the peculiar energy of this place.

1.31 p.m. Sitting and eating again. Some incredibly energic persons (especially one) keep talking. Others are a bit tired and are just listening. Some people are offering something sweet to others. An advantage of hiking with a group of friends: there is always someone willing to share his/her snack with others so you usually taste more goodies than you have in your own backpack.

2.15 p.m. Crossing Stolová hora – a steppe area with exceptional view over Southern Moravia, one cannot help thinking about how this place was surrounded by the sea in the Miocene Epoch. In his Krajiny vnitřní a vnější (a compulsory read for all real explorers), Václav Cílek speaks about the old age of Pálava and refers to its “cosmic qualities.” There is something about this landscape that can make one feel older, or, makes one think about the unconceivable history of this planet. But these are my impressions. Here speaks another member of the expedition:

Lucy K.

Pálava
Maybe we walked the land of ghosts
Maybe we walked the land of trees
Maybe they were the ghosts of trees
Maybe we were the ghosts.

3.30 p.m. Mikulov. A picturesque town with a number of sightseeings. We’re cold, tired and everyone is craving a wine cellar or a pub. But before we find one, we’re sitting in the square, eating again. Tom H. is putting out his řízky. So it wasn’t just a joke!

6.30 p.m. On the train again.

Lenka asks whether she can write something for the magazine. Sure, anybody can! So here we go:

Leňa K.
Procházka po Pálavských vrších byla úžasná, azurová obloha předčila veškerá má očekávání. Sice se sem tam vyskytl silný studený vítr – zejména na vrcholcích, některým odolným jedincům ovšem vůbec nevadil, ba naopak – považovali jej pouze za jakýsi jarní vánek. Dvě piva nakonec jen prohloubila mou příjemnou únavu. Krásný pohled na studenty anglistiky, jejichž tváře vypovídající o vyčerpání byly ošlehané moravským větrem a měly barvu podobající se rudé záři nad Kladnem. (Musím podotknout, že v zápalu zkoušek my studenti anglistiky ani nevytáhneme paty z domu, a naše obličeje mají tudíž spíš barvu sýra.) Takže hurá na další výpravu!!!

Tom H.
Výlet na Pálavu byl určitě po všech stránkách dobře strávenej čas. Původně bylo „vyhrožováno“ tím, že tam bude pořádná zima a stejně silnej fukanáč ... nic z toho se však neobjevilo (bohužel), nicméně se objevily zase jiné úkazy, které povznesly výlet na úroveň, která byla očekávána (tj. více než vysoká). Ať už to bylo totální azzurro s naleštěným Oskarem, fotbalový svatostánek Klentnic, paranormální jevy, které se objevily během průchodu kolem nádrže Nové Mlýny, přes uplně prázdnej vlak z Břeclavi do Brna až po zvláštní jevy, která se udály na ulici Vodní .... Na závěr nezbývá říct nic jiného, než že to byl až mimozemsky úžasný výlet podtržený větou „The truth is out there“.

-lf-

More pictures by the individual expedition members to be found here: Bara’s, David’s, Hanka’s, Lena’s and Tom’s pics.

Interview with the Head Librarian & SAC Old Hand Jakub Zdražil or Why Should I Visit the SAC? (Issue No. 15)

2008-02-24T22:06:00.006+01:00

The following interview should serve as a lure for those who haven’t yet discovered the secrets, beauties and resources of the Self Access Centre. Though the interview takes place in a sauna, it’s primarily focused on the SAC. It’s quite interesting to read and it shows how useful it may be to go to the SAC (and sauna?) from time to time.

LF: Hi Jakub, how are you do you too?
JZ: Hi Lenka, I’m doing quite you do to like too.
LF: Really?
JZ: Yes.
LF: How are you feeling here in this sauna? Nice towel by the way.
JZ: Thank you very much, I appreciate your not taking the towel at all.
LF: Yeah, I never bother to take one. After all, why should I?
JZ: Interesting. Now back to your question. Well, I do like it here. It’s quite foggy and humid, which is fine.
LF: Do you prefer foggy weather to nice sunny one?
JZ: I do. Because it opens your…
LF: Horizons?
JZ: Well, not exactly. I would say it allows you to fantasize, you know?
LF: Yeah, because your vision gets blurred and there come the dreams…
JZ: Exactly. And what opens is your mind’s eye.
LF: Ooh! How often do you go to the sauna?
JZ: From time to time.
LF: How many interviews have you given so far?
JZ: Does the police count?
LF: Yes, it does.
JZ: In that case, it’s about three times.
LF: How many of them took place in a sauna?
JZ: Does the police count?
LF: Yes, it does.
JZ: In that case it’s the second time.
LF: Do you go to saunas for men – like this one – or do you prefer those for women?
JZ: As I am rather an open-minded person, I don’t discriminate women.
LF: So do you go to the sauna because of naked women as well?
JZ: No.
LF: So, it’s primarily the fog that attracts you so much.
JZ: Yes, it’s the fog.
LF: I’ve noticed that you don’t shave your armpits. Some men do.
JZ: Well, thank you. I appreciate you’ve noticed, you’re a very perceptive interviewer. Well, I consider myself to be somewhat alternative to mainstream culture and this is one of the most visible signs. So, yes, I do not shave my armpits.
LF: Excellent, Jakub, excellent! Let’s leave your private life now and move to you as a public person. Why do you work in the SAC?
JZ: I feel so good in the SAC, it’s like a drug. It’s an addiction. I’m surrounded by books, by knowledge – it’s a perfect environment to get the real academic feeling.
LF: Does it in any way remind you of the feelings you have in a sauna?
JZ: I should say NO. Definitely not. There is no space for your imagination in between dictionaries and encyclopedias where facts are presented to you.
LF: So, that’s why you probably like foggy spaces like this one – it helps you to balance your mental life.
JZ: Yes, that’s exactly the reason.
LF: Jakub, you said you would like more people to come to the SAC every day. Why do you think they should come in greater numbers?
JZ: First of all, I think they should come in pairs at least, because most often they come individually.
LF: Which is bad.
JZ: Not exactly bad, but it’s better to come in pairs because you have someone to talk to, you have two pairs of eyes to search the books, two brains and two points of view at least.
LF: Hmm…. Yes, well… What was the next question… well, I’m afraid your towel got loosened a bit and I can’t concentrate.
JZ: Whoops! I’m sorry, let me adjust it. Here we go again.
LF: Thank you. Jakub, you’re the head librarian which basically means that you are an old hand in the SAC. What does such a position mean to you?
JZ: Oh, it’s basically an inherited post. The work there doesn’t require any special abilities or competence which suits me well. And I’ve been in the SAC long enough to get my catalogue number next year.
LF: So you’ll be catalogued next year.
JZ: Yes, I will become a part of the school property which means that I cannot travel freely.
LF: So do you think you’ll be a good source?
JZ: Hopefully. I can provide a number of information.
LF: Such as?
JZ: Such as the canteen opening hours.
LF: So it will work like this: People will find you in the catalogue and …
JZ: .. and borrow me for a week.
LF: Would you prefer to be borrowed by men or women?
JZ: As I said earlier, I don’t have any sexual preferences as far as the service goes.
LF: What does the SAC offer to students besides your unshaved armpits and kind help with printing?
JZ: Well, the SAC is a great resource and I think that people should really come and study there. We provide dictionaries, encyclopedias, grammar books. We also have three computers, Wi-Fi, you can print there for cash which is very unique at the English department and the Faculty of Arts as a whole. We also have a TV, a VCR and a DVD player on which you can play the hundreds of video tapes and DVDs that we have.
LF: Do you also lend DVDs out?
JZ: Yes, we do.
LF: I’m afraid your towel got loosened again.
JZ: I’m sorry. I’ll just put it away, I’m tired of adjusting it all the time.
LF: Oooh! I’ll have a really hard time concentrating now… I think I forgot the last question. Can you think of a last question you would like me to ask you?
JZ: Yes, I would like you to ask me about the new tables that we now have in the SAC.
LF: So, what about the new tables?
JZ: Oh, yes, I’m glad you’ve noticed. You’re an extremely perceptive interviewer. We have new tables and they are much better than the old ones. I guess they must have been made in Russia or Romania. They provide much more comfort than the old ones.
LF: Were they assembled by somebody working at the department?
JZ: Yes, they were assembled with love by me and Tom Hanzálek.
LF: Yes, I’ve tried them and I should say that they are definitely much better than the previous ones. They seem to me like the best tables I have ever worked at.
JZ: Thank you, Lenka.
LF: Thank you for the interview, Jakub. I really like your towel when it’s lying next to you. Shall we meet in this sauna again?
JZ: Why not. I suggest Wednesday 6 p.m.
LF: Excellent, Jakub, I agree. Can I have your towel now?
JZ: Sure, take it, keep it.
LF: Thank you Jakub! Wait a minute… I just put it on and… will you sign it for me now, please?
JZ: I’d be happy to.

-lf- & Jakub Zdražil

Interview with Milada Franková (Issue No. 14)

2007-12-15T11:12:00.000+01:00

BT: We know that you are in the process of being named professor. And our first question will be concerning this.

MF: Oh, dear (laughs).

BT: So congratulations to that!
MF: Well, that’s nowhere near the end yet so congratulations are not in place yet (laughs).

BT: Can you tell us a little bit more about this? How does it work? What does it take to become a professor?
MF: It’s a very complex process, even once you get to anywhere near being able to comply with the requirements. They seem to be always tighter and tighter. Just to give you a picture of that, there is a required number of publications, publications of a particular kind, at least 2 monographs, 50 articles, and these have to be specialized, so if you have publications in let’s say although literary but less scholarly journals like brněnský Host, for instance, that doesn’t count. You also have to have a very high number of citations. So if you think you can meet these requirements, you have to get it all together, that is to fill in very complex and long forms which are then presented to “Vědecká rada” for the opening of the “Jmenovací řízení”, that is the professorship process. And then a committee of 5 scholars is set up that again has to have a very particular composition. Don’t ask me what the chairman of the committee must do to assess the work. There must be a public lecture at which at least 2 of the members of the committee have to be present to write a report on the lecture. When all of this work is completed, all of the 5 members of the committee agree that all the duties have been fulfilled and sign that, then the whole thing goes before “Vědecká rada”, where the candidate has to give a lecture, a short one this time, and the members of “Vědecká rada” actually vote on naming the particular candidate professor. And then it goes on to university “Vědecká rada”, which we usually describe as the big “Vědecká rada” and if the vote is also successful there, only then it goes for the official nomination or naming by the president of the republic. As you can see this takes months to go through and if the ending is successful that at long last completes the whole process. But not until then because you never know what can go wrong anywhere in the course.

BT: Well, I hope it will be successful…
MF: Thank you for the hope. Let’s hope then.

MS: Before we get this far in your career, let’s talk about the beginnings. What made you decide to study English and later to start teaching and having an academic career?
MF: Start to study English… Well, that is really a long way back and it was more or less given by my more general interest. I was interested in the study of languages. English was not taught at the secondary school which was “jedenáctiletá střední škola” then. It was German that I studied there and Russian of course which was compulsory. But my German teacher gave private English lessons and because my mother did study German and English in her time she decided to pay for private English lessons for me. It was only for a couple of years actually before I applied for university studies of English and German – they were fixed combinations then, that was what it was called. So I was lucky enough to get here, to get in. It was at the time when the faculty took a few more students than was the case before and soon after, so there were two sizeable groups of the combination English-German, German-English, it was also divided into what was major and what was minor. I had major English and minor German and when I finished my 5-year studies here, I got a teaching job at a language school here in Brno that was then the only, state language school. It was an evening school only, at that time, and I taught there for the next twenty years, actually until 1989 and the Velvet Revolution. After that here in this department there was this sudden and very happy change of huge expansion. And so I was offered a job by Don Sparling, who was the head of the department then and whom I had known for a number of years, because when he first came to this republic, he started as a teacher at the same language school where I was teaching. I was offered a job to come to the department, but primarily to start with as a language teacher. Soon enough the literature teachers were required, particularly when docent Pantůčková decided to retire, so I was asked to do some literature teaching. I started with medieval and Renaissance literature. Gradually I got rid of my language classes and took on more literature. At the same time the British Council very massively supported the development of cultural studies, of British studies as a new subject or a subject different from the traditional history and life and institutions. I got involved in the development and training, that is being trained myself, for teaching cultural studies, or British studies, British cultural studies – there were all those different terms used at the time. This also meant going to Britain on a couple of short-term courses in cultural studies, then I was given the opportunity to do an MA in cultural studies at Warwick University apart form some literature summer schools or short term courses. All of this was funded by the British Council and it gave me a very good start to change from language teaching to cultural studies and literature teaching. That was when I gradually developed the courses that I teach now and I have moved on to contemporary British literature. I have kept the medieval literature course, but passed on Renaissance literature to Pavel Drábek when he joined the department as a teacher, I developed the contemporary literature course which was my main interest in terms of academic research, contemporary British women writers more particularly.

BT: More and more students are asking you to supervise their theses dealing with various fantasy topics lately. Are you a fan of this genre? Do you like watching fantasy films? Do you ever read fantasy books?
MF: No. (laughs) Not particularly, but because there is always this link to medieval literature, medieval British literature, in connection with Beowulf or in connection with the Arthurian cycle, Arthurian legend, Arthurian romance, I’m interested and of course have nothing against the interest of students in this area. And I’m quite happy to supervise theses that deal with these topics in some way or other.

BT: But you probably have read the Lord of the Rings?
MF: Hmm, no, I admit that I haven’t actually read the Lord of the Rings. In this connection I was more or less thoroughly informed by my younger son who quite a few years ago was a great fan. We had all the volumes of the Lord of the Rings at home and I think he was thoroughly involved and thoroughly informed so some of the interest and knowledge was perhaps spilt over on me. But I’m more interested in the links to Beowulf and Tolkien’s medieval studies.

MS: When we are talking about books, is there a book which you are especially fond of or which you keep returning to?
MF: Well I wish I had the time to return to books. That is certainly a problem. And so perhaps in this sense I could rather talk about books that I teach because then I have the time to return to them. It needn’t mean that they are the books that I would necessarily return to if I had the free choice of returning to something. So I don’t know if I can speak of a favourite book in this respect. There are quite a few books that I really like in the area of contemporary literature that I’m mainly concerned with. I like Marina Warner’s novels, the Leto Bundle recently captured some of my attention maybe more than other novels but it wouldn’t exclude a lot of other choices that I could name, Rose Tremain’s Music and Silence is also among my favourites. Thinking about them rather than going back to reading them all the time, I’d probably give you lists of books. If it is something completely different, then I would certainly like our students to read Louise Doughty’s Fires in the Dark, which has recently been translated into Czech and appeared in the bookshops only a couple of weeks ago. It is a book which Louise Doughty did research for while she was here in this department some years ago as a writer in residence. She was supported by the British Council and she did some research for the book she planned then and that should involve eastern European Romanies. And true enough to her words, she did write the book a few years later. It is concerned with Romanies in this country, in Moravia, and Bohemia during the decades leading to the Second World War and during the Second World War. I think this is a very interesting novel and a very interesting view from outside and I would certainly recommend everybody to read it.

BT: Apart from reading books, how do you relax? What do you do when you need to switch off a little bit?
MF: It seems that the professional deformation works here completely because apart from walking in the mountains sometimes, but not very often, and perhaps traveling during the holidays, I don’t think I have a way of relaxation other than, you know, with a book (laughs). And then perhaps, then I distinguish between books that I read because I have to and books that I read more for sort of relaxation, but its always books, (in their vast majority) books by contemporary British writers. So its difficult to distinguish between what is my job and what is my pleasure. Maybe that’s good too.

MS: If you have a job which is your pleasure then it’s certainly a good thing.
MF: That seems to be the ideal, only sometimes there seems to be a little bit more of the work than the pleasure.

BT: Do you have a pet?
MF: No. We had a pet, it was a hamster, when my sons were little and it was a disaster. I didn’t want a pet and then I had to look after it and when it died I cried and swore that I would never have a pet again, but in a couple of days they brought another one and the same cycle repeated. But then after the other one died, the boys were fortunately big enough not to want yet another. We also had a cat, that was before my sons were born. It was a cat that decided that she wanted to stay with us, that was how we got her and again it came to a sorry ending – when she died I cried and promised not to have a pet again. (laughs) I hope that’s the end of pets in my family.

MS: Do you have any time to spend with your family at all?
MF: Well my sons are adults now and they don’t live with us any more. I’m very happy when they do come round and so then I cook lunch for them or if they stay with us I do some more cooking and catering and talking to them and I’m happy to have them round. Otherwise, I only have my husband to look after so I suppose I spend enough time with him when I’m at home, although perhaps it needn’t be considered to be intensive time spent together because I do my reading, my student dissertations reading and other work of the kind (laughs).

BT: Christmas is coming. Do you like this time of year? All the preparations, buying Christmas presents..?
MF: Well, not particularly. But I don’t mind. I don’t overdo it. I tend to buy presents for each member of the extended family which includes also my mother and sister and her family so there are quite a few people to think of. I tend to do that somehow gradually so there is not too much rush. I don’t overdo it with baking pastries either. Of course, I must do some baking because my, originally, 3 men in the family have a couple of favourite pastries that Christmas couldn’t be without. I had to bake those in large enough quantities to satisfy them at least over the first two days of Christmas. By then they usually finished it all. But I didn’t bother to bake some other things that they were not so keen on, because then they wouldn’t eat them. So the 10 or 20 or 25 different kinds of Christmas pastries as seems to be the Czech woman’s ideal – that is certainly not my case (laughs). I have to do it and do it but not terribly enthusiastically.

MS: It takes a lot of time to bake all those different kinds of Christmas pastry.
MF: I’m sure the good housewives have already started, but I usually start thinking about it just the week before Christmas because if I started too early, I would have to hide the pastries I don’t know where, otherwise my three men would have eaten them. Even with the pantry being locked, it usually didn’t help – they somehow managed to get in.

BT: Thank you very much for finding time for us to do this interview, this was a great pleasure.
MF: Well, it was pleasure and fun for me.

-bt- & -mš-

The British Film Seminar 2007 (Issue No. 14)

2007-12-15T11:09:00.000+01:00

During the last weekend of November, Uherské Hradiště welcomed over 600 mostly university students as the British Film Seminar 2007 took place. The film festival celebrated its thirteenth year with the topic of the British Literature in the British Film.

This year’s programme consisted of 51 film performances – 33 feature films, 11 composed shows and lectures. The organizers tried to offer not only the well-known films (Shakespeare in Love, Sense and Sensibility, and Wuthering Heights), but also a bit controversial or experimental films (Women in Love by Ken Russell). In case of Greene’s The End of the Affair you could also choose between the different adaptations of the same book. Before each of the film adaptations of the novels by Jane Austen, Joseph Conrad, Thomas Hardy, or Graham Greene, eagerly awaited David Crystal gave a short lecture. Those who did not meet Professor Crystal before – he also visited this year’s Summer Film School in Uherské Hradiště – could be pleasantly surprised how charming and witty he actually was. If you got tired of the British film, the organizers also offered a variety of non-English films like The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie by Luis Buñuel, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari by Robert Wiene, or Aguirre: The Wrath of God by Werner Herzog. The participants could also visit accompanying events like exhibitions (Evžen Sobek and his exhibition on Czechs living in England), concerts (Vypsaná fiXa in Mír cinema), theatres (the theatre play Pride and Prejudice, directed by Radovan Lipus in Slovácké divadlo) and workshops (Project 100). All films and lectures were translated into Czech language.

Although the college dormitories were not available for the festival participants this year, people could sleep in their sleeping bags in a Sport centre not far from Hvězda cinema or directly inside the cinema itself which for most of us was a unique experience and together with the hospitality of the organizers contributed to the friendly atmosphere of the festival.

-aš-

Professor David Crystal

Expedition No. 8: Ždánický les (Issue No. 14)

2007-12-15T10:53:00.000+01:00

The destination of this expedition is situated in the southwest of Brno. Ždánický les – actually a low mountain range – is a part of the Carpathian Mountain System. It means that geomorphologically, it has more in common with for example the Alps and the Tatras than with the Czech-Moravian Highlands and the Moravian Karst, though it may not seem so. What is special about this area is that it is largely covered with beech forest and conceals many meadows with numberless plant species and numerous places of nice views.

I have a soft spot for beech forests as they remind me of the countryside of my childhood – Chřiby – which actually adjoins the area of Ždánický forest further east. Besides being the best place for building shelters and playing partisans, beech forests are also often admired for their elegant beauty that frequently comes into focus of cameras. Indeed, beeches are models among trees, especially in autumn, dressed up in shining colors. But when you live very close to such a forest for more than eighteen years, you easily forget about that quality.

I often realised that as a teenager when I had a visit – when I went for a walk in the forest with a friend or, when I spoke to people who were visiting Chřiby in autumn. They were usually admiring its exceptional beauty and I was nodding. I felt a bit flattered – after all, it was the place where I lived. But I wasn’t really sharing their excitement. I was used to that beauty. I saw the trees every day, I used to go for long walks in the forest accompanied only by my dog. Ocassionally, I spent a half-day on the way, leaving my parents in fear at home. I wasn’t afraid of getting lost, I knew many of the places by heart. I enjoyed the silence of such walks a lot. I loved it! And I especially enjoyed the moments of complete and total silence. This happened only rarely but it did. I was sitting somewhere on a small rock surrounded by tall grass, watching a buzzard high above my head or the countryside in front of me and I could hear nothing. Nothing at all. It was calming… the buzzard was moving as if in a mute film… the countryside was motionless, no wind, no trees squeaking, no bird’s cries…. I began to be frightened and had to disrupt the deafening vacuum of sounds by moving my body or calling my dog.

Now, when I live in Brno and go home only occasionally, I sometimes miss the model beauty of the beech forest of Chřiby and the moments of special silence. As any kind of pleasure, they are addictive. Though I have easily adjusted to the flow and movement of the town and I actually like and enjoy it, sometimes, I have to set off for an expedition. And the area of Ždánický les is one of my very favourite destinations. Because of the beeches, I think. And because of all that is hidden in the forest.

If you want to visit the place, I can only recommend the trail from Jestřabice to Bučovice. It is rather long (24km), but it’s worth it. I went there last week and, having forgotten about how long it would take, I was surprised by the dark. Also, the daydreaming leader and the only member of the expedition got lost as she forgot to watch for tourist markers and went astray. And I think that there is a lesson in that: Don’t dream too much otherwise you may get lost in Ždánický les.

-lf-

The Eve of All Hallows (Issue No. 13)

2007-11-23T22:22:00.000+01:00

The music stopped suddenly and a heavy silence fell on Club 14. It was dark and gloomy. Those freshly buried trembled before the Head who initiated them into their new undead existence with his mighty sword...Yes, just like every year, the Deadpartment Halloween Party took place, this time already on the 30th of October, as the end of the world as we know it was expected to come on the following day. Well, the world still seems to exist, which is good as that remarkable night will not be forgotten.

Those who have been there know, the others surely missed a lot. It is pleasant to note that the number of the undead who disguised (or at least tried to disguise) themselves with some scary or funny or just weird costumes increased again – but some may just have revealed their true nature this way... There was a great variety of strange entities such as the Ringwraith from Middle Earth or the Tooth Fairy. If anyone experienced a remarkable loss of blood, it might have been due to the presence of several vampires.

Of course, the entities present occupied themselves mostly with drinking, dancing and chatting with other beings, in which they continued until the very end of the party not long before 3 in the morning. However, those brave enough could also try their luck in a contest. They had to put their hands into five bags with some unknown substances (for instance mashed potatoes or gooey pasta), the nature of which they were to guess. It surely was a strong experience.

In conclusion, the party was a great success, and we hope to see even more entities at the upcoming Christmas Party (this time it is enough for them to disguise themselves as humans). And just a little postscript – it would be great if the high-ranked zombies arrived in greater numbers next time...

-mš-

Interview with Kateřina Prajznerová (Issue No. 13)

2007-11-23T21:19:00.000+01:00

LF: It is a beautiful autumn evening outside. How does this season make you feel?
KP: (laughs) The season itself makes me feel wonderful because I travel regularly through the Czech-Moravian Highlands, I commute between Brno and Velký Osek, and I usually take the route through Havlíčkův Brod. So in the fall, when I leave Brno at about four o’clock in the afternoon, it’s when the sun starts to set, and the hills, all yellow and red, are lit up by the sun. That’s really wonderful to watch, these changes in the seasons. And I got married in the fall so it’s a time of celebration. But at the same time, last fall my father died and, also, it’s the season when my grandmother died. I live now in my grandmother’s house—it’s the house where she grew up and where she lived all her life. This also descends on me. The season doesn’t necessarily make me terribly sad, though—it’s a mixture of feelings. Like this Saturday, I’ll be celebrating my wedding anniversary but, at the same time, I’ll be going to the cemetery.

LF: Are you a person who has a favorite season or do you enjoy all of them?
KP: I think I enjoy all of them. But I have decided to teach my environmental literature course in the spring rather than in the fall. I always offer it in the spring. And part of the reason is, in the spring most people are tired of being cooped up all winter and they like reading about nature and just getting out there.

LK: Do you teach also other courses according to the seasons?
KP: No, this is the only one so far—because introduction to literature I have to teach all the time, and contemporary US lit too, and my other seminars, I just alternate them so that within the two-year cycle there’d be a variety of courses that I offer. With environmental literature, offering it in the spring semester was just an accident the first time—but it worked well and I decided to stick with that season.

LK: Why did you choose your job as a literature teacher? Are there more reasons? Or just one main reason?
KP: I don’t remember whether I ever actually decided to become a literature teacher. It sort of developed. I always liked to read and I think my mother noticed that I liked to read so she directed me towards humanities-oriented subjects. Then once I started school, my teachers noticed that I liked to read and they encouraged me to go further in that direction. It was more like being an enthusiastic reader and having people around me who helped me along. And when I got into the US, it was mainly thanks to my advisers there that I realized that I could apply for a PhD program in this field, that I could actually make a living by reading novels and talking about them with students. Just sitting down with a book and reading is a big part of it. If you like to read, it’s very easy to fall into becoming a literature teacher.

LK: When you decided to do your PhD, were you determined to become a scholar, to devote your life to literature?
KP: No, I just thought that it would open more doors to me. When I went to the US, I first did an M.A., and then I had to decide whether I’ll go back to the Czech Republic or continue on. At that time I did not have a particular job in mind, but I thought, I am really enjoying this, I can do this for a few more years, I think I will have more options when I get through.

LF: What does being successful at work mean to you?
KP: Maybe I could talk about the most rewarding things for me. Mostly it’s seeing students come back to my classes. Especially at the BA level, I have large groups in the first year, and even the survey courses are usually huge groups, and so in those groups a lot of students just slip through your fingers, you don’t really get to know them and you don’t really have a connection with them. But the students who come back again the following semester to another course, maybe to a smaller seminar later on, and some of them end up writing a thesis with you—you get to know them much better and, I think, that is when you actually begin to teach them something—and it goes both ways. Then there is a kind of communication going on, it’s not just information exchange, you start to develop a relationship—and that is what I find very rewarding.

LK: What about your stays in the US and Canada. How have they changed your life as a scholar and a woman?
KP: Well, my focus on Appalachian literature today is very much determined by the fact that I lived in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains for some time, and got to know many people there and have friends there. So when I started to do research on the literature being written there, I had a very close connection to the place, the people and the history of the region. But—hmm, that’s interesting—I also lived in central Texas for several years and I have not written anything about Texas yet (laughs). But maybe, eventually, it will come back to me. Maybe my focus on Mexican American fiction comes from that stay, I heard a lot of Spanish everywhere and I also took Spanish classes at Baylor. And my husband is an American, so, on the personal level, I found my kindred spirit in the United States.

LF: We know that you are interested in environmental writing. Why?
KP: I think it’s because it allows me to connect the experience of reading about things that I enjoy with my teaching and research and, also, with my everyday life. It is not all in the imagined world of fiction; it has a direct connection to my life. I like that kind of practical element in environmental writing. And also, I have personally experienced the healing power of rivers, and mountains, and walking—that is one of the great things about being a literature teacher, at least at the university level—I can offer seminars in whatever I want, pretty much, as long as they attract enough students.

LK: You also focus on feminist theory and readings. Are you surprised that the word “feminist” has such negative connotations, especially in this country?
KP: I am not sure why so many people are so insecure in this context. I think it’s not really just about women. Feminism is
about gender equality—it is also about the ways men don’t have to be—there’s a mutual connection—more flexibility, openness, less gender-predetermined structure of life for everyone.

LF: What is your personal definition of feminism? How do you understand it?
KP: I think it’s connected to independent thinking rather than listening to what other people tell you to do. It’s to listen to what your inner voice tells you and have the courage to be your own person.

LF: Yeah, that’s one of the most difficult things.
KP: (laughs). Yeah. And it can be even little things. Before I moved back to the Czech Republic, everybody kept telling me, well, you speak English, you have a PhD in American literature, you are married to an American—you should stay in the US, and get a job here, and blah, blah, blah. That was one thing—I had to explain to people why I wanted to go back. And then, when I got home—why would you live in Velký Osek? Why would you commute this looong distance? And it wasn’t easy to articulate my reasons. It’s only gradually that you start discovering the reasons why and finding the words. But first you have to have the courage to be different and not to follow the usual way of doing things. One of the things, if I go back to your earlier question about how my stay in the US has changed me as a person, is that it showed me how the idea of distance is relative. When I was growing up in Brno, we would go to see my grandmother in Osek quite often, and that was like taking a long trip across the Czech-Moravian Highlands, especially in the winter, it was an adventure, a big deal. And now it’s no longer a big deal because I know that it’s not really that far. And this is just a mental adjustment.

LF: Why did you decide to live in Velký Osek then?
KP: It is really great to have a place that is your base. For many years, when I was a student, I lived in transit. The concept of settling down somewhere to stay “forever,” that is no longer realistic for me. But it’s good to have an anchor. And I have a sort of personal connection to that place because it’s where my grandmother was born, where my father grew up, and, throughout my childhood, we would go there to visit my grandmother. This might sound a bit awkward, but I can see myself getting old in that place, becoming a crazy old “Prajznerka” there. I have a garden there, there’s a forest. When I get from Brno to Velky Osek and I step off the train, the smell of the forest is very calming to me. I forget about the stress here. I don’t have internet at my house, I can look out from my room into the garden. So it helps me stay balanced in a way, not to become overwhelmed by what happens here in Brno. When we first moved there, we just went there to see how we’d like it, but I think we’ve both settled there and we like it a lot. And I don’t mind the train—it’s my favorite reading time.

LF: Do you grow your own vegetables?
KP: Vegetables (pause). You have to follow deadlines, the right time to plant carrots and so on. And I often go to Canada for much of the summer. I can only grow plants that don’t need tending. I have chives and thyme, and other herbs, sage, oregano, lovage, hyssop, things like that. And I have a wildflower garden. Most of my garden is a wildflower garden. This gives me the freedom to garden when I feel like it. Maybe when I retire, I would like to grow my own potatoes, onions—my job doesn’t allow me to do that now. When I have a conference at the weekend, my weekend goes to the conference. No weeding, no watering.

LK: Do you grow many plants in your house?
KP: Well, right now, we’re in an experimental phase—no plants in the house. It’s just temporary. My husband believes that house plants increase the humidity in the house. We have a very old house and during the first few years we had mould on the walls and my husband thought that it was because of my many plants. I compromised and said OK, for two years, no plants, and then we’ll see.

LK: Is it getting better?
KP: Yeah, I think so. But now we have also put in new windows and I have huge window sills, so that would be perfect for growing plants. But I have to be patient. The time has to be right.

LF: Now, let’s go back to literature. Do you have a book you keep returning to and read over and over again?
KP: I have a favorite author—Lee Smith. She’s the author I wrote my dissertation on and I have not grown tired of her. No matter which book by her I pick to read again, I love it.

LF: Is there a special one among them?
KP: Well, I especially like Fair and Tender Ladies. I think it is the first novel that I have come across that traces a woman’s life from childhood to adulthood, and it’s not through an old woman looking back and remembering. It’s written in the first person, so you get the child writing with all the misspellings and the way she speaks. And her narrative changes as she changes and grows as a woman. And I have not really seen another character that would do that—that the language would change with the narrator. It covers her whole life. She’s almost ninety at the end, so it takes you through the whole twentieth century, until the present. It maps the history of the place where she lives. It’s very human. My life experience is not similar to that woman’s experience but I can sense that we could be friends, there is this closeness that I feel. She’s courageous. She’s not perfect. She has a very strong spirit, she is an inspiration to me.

LK: We want to ask you about music. Can you play any musical instrument?
KP: No, I’m afraid I’m tone-deaf. I have to sing in the shower. My mother is a very good singer, and she always sang to me when I was little. I still remember those songs. I have them in my head.

LF: Do you enjoy listening to music sometimes?
KP: Sometimes I do, but mostly I just crave silence. I like silence.

LF: What is the best form of relaxation for you?
KP: Taking a long walk when I can clear my mind.

LF&LK: Thank you for the interview and enjoy the rest of the evening.

-lf-, -luk-

Sexual perversity in Chicago by David Mamet (Issue No. 13)

2007-11-23T21:14:00.000+01:00

Sexual perversity in Chicago is a play written by Chicago born author, screenwriter, playwright and film director David Alan Mamet. It was first produced in June 1974 by the Organic Theatre Company in Chicago.

I saw this play, translated as Sexuální perverze v Chicagu, about one month ago performed by BURANteatr on the Sklepní scéna in Cntrum experimentálního divadla, Brno and take it as a one worth seeing.
It follows the lives of two friends, Danny and his workmate Bernard, self-conscious would-be macho, constantly describing his sexual encounters which Danny is most admiringly willing to believe true.
Danny falls in love with Debbie, commercial illustrator who is sharing a flat with bitter, manipulative kindergarten teacher Joan.
When Danny and Debbie get together, Joan finds herself alone in the flat discouraging Deb from the relationship, for her own good rather than Deb’s sake, and Bernard, though remaining the great sexual adviser, still does not manage to reach further than the extent of his own imagination.
Danny-Bernard often ridiculously funny discourses form the opposite to those between Debbie and Joan and both serve as an insight into men’s and women’s worlds, with the insights to that former one more than slightly prevailing.

Mamet’s representation of such a broad themes as love and partnership is very frank and legible, though for some maybe too frank (and even controversial), and is making the play enjoyable and interesting enough to be remembered.

-jš-

Beyond All Expectations: Six Young People Nearly Froze to Death!!! (Expedition No. 7 - Issue No. 13)

2007-11-23T20:44:00.000+01:00

Five students and a secretary (all around 25) planned to set off for an expedition from Brno to Žďárské vrchy on November 11th. What a great idea! Well, bad luck. Though professional hardcore hikers, they got into big trouble when they unexpectedly met a snowminator. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a starving snowminator in possession of a silver cutlery set must be in want of young flesh. And so our explorers had to fight for their lives and finally managed to escape. Narrowly.

Before embarking on the expedition, the group of determined adventurers was faced with significant challenges to create and develop the competencies required for a success of such an event. They consulted a substantial number of guides and manuals and, using the well-known Brain Integration Model (BIM), the participants were able to employ their skills and knowledge capital in accord with the expedition’s conceptual framework. They rethought and reorganized the distribution of energy in their bodies and managed to establish a good rapport among themselves as well as, later on, with the train conductor. Consulting a diverse spectrum of tourist maps, they made an in-depth analysis of all possible routes for their mission and created a detailed itinerary to stick to strictly.

However, not every detailed itinerary is detailed enough and any professional hiker shouldn’t forget that there are things surprising and unexpected in the universe. In other words, whether one uses BIM or BAM (Brain Attrition Model), one never knows. Just how terribly stunned our courageous fellows were when meeting the snowminator, can be detected from some of the photographs they made.

Creating a line of bodies to fight a snowminator is a method much more effective than to attack it in the usual way of a disorganized crowd. From back to front: Tom Hanzálek, Kuba Zdražil, Evička Petlachová, Janča Tomášková, Lucka Krpalová.

Another effective line formation. The band is waiting behind a couple of small trees to ambush the snowminator.

Some of the scenes were extremely violent. Here: one explorer at the end of her tether, others screaming in horror.

Dreadful view of a village called Blatiny covered in snow.

“I don’t know how we made it... This was an exceptional expedition,” says the author to herself. Yes, I can actually hear myself saying that. And what about the rest of the gang?

Kuba
F...... weather. Byl to hluboký zážitek, ze kterého mě mrazilo (hlavně a to zejména do výše kolen, kde suchá část kalhot prohrávala zápas se sněhovou pokrýkou, zatímco spodní polovina svůj zápas prohrála v momentě, kdy jsem vystoupil z autobusu).

Evička
- extrémní duševní očista
- balzám pro oči
- kalokagathia - cesta k urozenosti a zdatnosti :o)

Tom
FI: (hypergigamageultrasuperbombafantastik) ; nn10log10∈R
FF: Nejlepš výlet na vesmíru? ;o)

Janča
The unforgettable experience of meeting St. Martin on his gorgeous white horse and struggling through the blizzard in the wilderness.

Lucka
What wonders before my eyes?

White hills, black trees, grey skies!

If I come here again, ever,

I shall wear my boots from leather.

So dear readers, whether you go there or not, I’ll never know. But one thing is clear: our group of explorers survived and the snowminator has just begun to be terribly hungry. Enjoy the combat!

-lf-