MissLeonie.com

I should probably explain why I felt like writing yesterday’s piece on the war in Georgia. There are several reasons. One, I fear the consequences of this war, and what it will mean to life in Europe (oil-wise, for starters) and life in the world. Russia’s conduct in Georgia and other countries’ response will have political implications on a worldwide scale. Either it has stopped what the rest of the world was too slow to stop, or it has crossed internationally acknowledged borders. Both possible truths have severe implications. Two, my boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend Masha (see her blog here) is Russian and in Russia, which makes me curious and determined to see both sides. As I wrote before, this is not a war of people, it is is a war of power and governments, the victims of which are the dead and wounded in Georgia, be they Georgian or Russian. I’m interested in finding out what the news in Russia says.

My latest source of utmost amazement (and not in a good way): what’s the deal with these Russian warships in the Black Sea, which left from a Ukranian port? This has been confirmed by Ukranian authorities, which threatened not to let Russian war vessels return to its port because it didn’t want to be drawn into a military conflict, according to the BBC. South Ossetia isn’t even remotely close to the sea, but the other dissident Georgian region, Abkhazia, is. From where I’m standing, it looks a bit suspect. After all, one would hope Georgia would never be so stupid as to attack Russia via the Black Sea - simple number crunching (and the fact that the Georgian army have a grand total of 8 combat aircraft, compared to Russia’s 1809 (source: “Bodies are lying everywhere. It’s hell.” in: The Sunday Times, 10 August 2008) would define it as kamikaze. Why is Russia moving its ships out? Why did it sink a Georgian ship?

I guess the root question of all this is - why do Russia think they have a right to interfere with military force in a foreign country? Is there something we are not being told? In a comment to her post here, Masha mentions that Russia apparently appealed to the UN for help. I can’t say I’ve seen that mentioned in any of the articles I’ve read so far. This page on the BBC website lists some Russian opinions. I think their compassion is beautiful, but one comment astounded me: Natalia Vedeneeva from Central Russia says:

“It’s difficult to say who is right or wrong. Russia is defending its own citizens and it did try to persuade Georgia to stop. Russia was forced to start military action.”

This argument fails, because the only reason Russia claims to be defending its citizens on Georgian soil is because it handed out passports to the majority of citizens of South Ossetia. That’s not how it works in polite politics. That is not respecting internationally accepted borders. If these new Russian citizens don’t like it in South Ossetia, i.e. Georgia, they should go “home” to Mother Russia - surely it is implied that that is where their allegiance lies, if they call themselves Russians? If they want to live in Georgia, they’ll have to accept that they are Georgians, at least until such time as South Ossetia becomes an independent state. The international response to Kosovo has shown that the world is not opposed to regions breaking away to form their own country. Patience, not war or a demonstration of Russian power, could create Ossetia.

At the same time, if reports are true that the unprovoked Georgian army attacked Tskhinvali at night, killing hundreds, Russia is doing an in essence admirable thing. It is trying to save people. The issue is the execution. It would be a more ideal situation if international troops, further removed from the situation, could make up a peace-keeping force. There would be much less room for hot-headed responses on both sides, since both Russia and Georgia have something at stake here. That said, in this scenario time was most likely of the essence, meaning Russia moved in instead of waiting for international red tape to get its act together, in hopes of saving the lives that would otherwise be lost in the waiting line.

Either way, it’s turned into one big mess, with losses on both sides. I wish the cease fire would be accepted, so that politicians have time to screw their heads back on and have a civilised discussion about the future of South Ossetia, before it runs out of citizens.

I guess today’s news just shows, oncemore, that the veneer of peace, civility and cooperation is ever so thin. Russia has invaded a dissident province of Georgia, or has come to the rescue of Georgians with Russian passports who want an independent country, depending on how you look at it.

At this stage, I think it’s hard to tell exactly what’s going on, but there are a few things I’d like to discuss. The first is that, as far as I can tell, Georgia originally only carried out its military repercussions in South Ossetia, internationally recognised to be within the Georgian borders, although a long-standing wish to be independent must also be noted. I’m not quite sure why Russia thought it appropriate to interfere in a foreign country, unless a genocide of sorts is indeed underway, in which case NATO or the UN should be involved, not simply Russia. A genocide or “ethnic cleansing” does seem unlikely from a country that has recently tried to join NATO, but stranger things have happened.

As far as someone far, far away from the actual events can tell, it’s once again about money and land. I sympathise with the South Ossetians who want a country of their own, but this is not the way. Similarly, the Georgian government should probably have a long, hard think about how far it is willing to go to keep an unwilling part of its territory. But Russia? Russia should probably clear off or provide adequate proof to support the claim its made: if there is a genocide underway, NATO or the UN, not Russia, needs to send troops. Giving Georgians Russian passports does not entitle the Russian government to claim the province of South Ossetia as the land of its citizens, and thus territory on which it may rightfully wage war. At this stage, it looks like a questionable, umbrageous way of annexing land, or at least the power to rule this land. Russia can hardly blame Georgia for trying to maintain South Ossetia with force - after all, it refuses to award independence to Chechnya, and has shunned no means there. Neither Russia nor Georgia is being very gracious about dissident regions, but in this case Russia is the pot calling the kettle black. There is of course the ethnic difference between the residents of South Ossetia and the rest of Georgia, but if that was ample reason for independence, Russia as the massive country it is today would not exist.

Is this about oil, then? About the only pipeline that provides Europe with Central-Asian oil without passing through Russian territory? Is it about Georgia’s blatant goal of transforming itself into a Western country? And which means does it deem proportionate? Russia and Georgia have been verbally aggravating each other for a while now. It seems Georgia bit off more than it will be able to chew as far as South Ossetia is concerned, although why this bite has suddenly become Russian cuisine is unclear. I’m not blaming people, I’m blaming governments. Governments which, for a whole range of reasons, can sometimes seem wholly out of touch with their people.

This could get messy. Better start stocking up on petrol then.

Perhaps I’m missing something. Feel free to point it out, I’d love to discuss this further and to try to understand what is going on. The comments are at your service.

This is a post I’ve been intending to write ever since I got back from my Italian holiday, I just never got around to it. I’ll keep things short and snappy, and brutally honest. Here goes:

• The Secret of Lost Things, Sheriday Hay. This is the story of an 18-year-old Tasmanian girl with nothing tying her to her island anymore. She packs her bags and leaves for New York, where she finds a job in one of the most peculiar second-hand bookshops I’ve ever read about. I picked this up for the cover, which suited the title well. It’s a different cover to the first edition, and perhaps less pretty, but it is mysterious alright. The blurb on the back sealed the deal; it exuded a love for books, book shops, stories. It also sounded like the kind of book one might disappear in, curled up in bed, only to emerge from the world of stories hours later, with a cold cup of tea on the bedside table. I really enjoyed this, it was an old-fashioned type of story telling that I miss in a lot of modern writing. The ending let the book down, though. It was too abrupt, too inconclusive, too inconsequential. The entire novel built up to what I expected to be a crescendo, only the crescendo consisted of someone softly playing a nose-flute in the background. The destiny was disappointing, a real shame, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the journey was an enjoyable one.
• The Yiddish Policemen’s Union, Michael Chabon. Similar to my reading experience with Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, it took a while for the story to grab me. Once it did, though, that was that. I spent hours and hours and a couple of siestas reading this book in a hammock in Italy, quite possibly the least fitting surroundings for a book about the Jewish land of Sitka (Alaska), which is about to be returned to the native inhabitants, creating fear of another diaspora in its inhabitants. The story is built around the premise that the state of Israel did not succeed, after which the Jewish people were awarded Alaska instead. After sixty years, the lease is up. The story is hilarious yet tragic, as we read about Detective Landsman’s efforts to solve the case of a murdered man in the hotel he lives in, partly in an attempt to rekindle things with his ex-wife, who is also his boss. Things are never easy in Landsman’s life, and this is no exception. Completely different to Kavalier and Clay in terms of storyline and even genre, but every bit as enthralling. Recommended!
• On Chesil Beach, Ian McEwan. A novella detailing how two newlyweds end up in a hotel room by the sea, terrified of each other. I found neither of the main characters interesting, and as such, their history didn’t really affect me. It’s a confronting book, in the sense that it puts up a mirror for all that read it, ugliness reflected back at them. The problem is that this ugliness also makes the characters ultimately unlikeable. I know this book got many favourable reviews, but it didn’t do a thing for me. The last few chapters are brilliant, they contain a wisdom that will break your heart. Everything until then, I realise, was background information, but it’s a scene and character setting gone wild. Every anecdote reinforces what you think you know about the characters, there are no surprises. It would have been a brilliant (longish) short story, but it didn’t work as a novella.
• The Forgotten Garden, Kate Morton. Another book I bought due to its obvious appeal to escapism. Another mystery, with attempts to solve it played out in the life of three different women in different times. As much as I loved the storyline, I thought the language use was at times a little clichéd. The atmosphere of the story made up for this, though, and it’s descriptions are so vivid it’s almost like watching a movie. The story takes a while to start rolling, to get to the point where you care enough about the characters, and know almost nothing but just enough to want to work out more. Once it does, I forgot about language use altogether. It’s brilliant, albeit at times a little predictable, but never in an annoying way. You may guess a few twists and turns, but oftentimes, the why and how will surprise. It’s a fairytale for adults, which is fitting since the mystery is part-based on a book of fairytales that Nell, one of the women we follow, is found with as a little girl all on her own after getting off a boat in Maryborough, Australia, early 1900s. I stayed up way past bedtime a few nights in a row to cram some reading in. Recommended!

PS. I know there are other books I’ve read lately, but I can’t think of the titles and they’ve all travelled back to the Netherlands with my sister so a look at my bookcase is of no help. To be continued, I’d say!

It’s not easy being a young tiger! I love the look of somewhat offended surprise on the face of the first tiger. It’s a cheeky monkey alright! Watch here.

For more tiger goodness: a tiger being trained for his appearance in the movie Gladiator, playing with “his” human. Are they awe-inspiring animals or what? Watch here.

Yay! A productive and in many ways excellent day.

It started off a bit later than I expected because I had some trouble dragging myself out of bed, but after I sorted out that issue, things went swimmingly.

I was too full for dessert yesterday, so I decided to have my oven-baked apple & vanilla sugar concoction for lunch. I bought blueberries and blackberries at Tesco yesterday (they were on sale - I don’t intend to pay four pounds for some measly berries I can pick for free at home, no), and they went in the mix. I added the usual ginger, and some honey. Oh my GOD was it tasty. The blackberries are probably a bit tart on their own, but in the juice of melted sugar, honey and burst blueberries they were scrumptious.

I also got some work done, writing about four hundred words so far, and doing some Photoshop work on the graphic representation of the model I’m devising. That sounds a lot fancier than it is, really. I just don’t know how to work with the shapes in Word, so I cheat and use Photoshop.

After the surprisingly sudden disappearance act my neighbours performed a few weeks ago, it’s been pretty quiet in the house next door. I had a sneaky suspicion that wouldn’t last much longer, given the industrial-size bin that was dumped outside their door the other day. They’re being surprisingly quiet, though. There’s a [clunk] here and a [bang] there occasionally, but overall it’s not too disruptive.

I met my new housemate yesterday, too, and he isn’t disruptive either. He looked at the house yesterday and moved in today, and is he ever an upgrade from my old housemates! He’s polite, pleasant, sociable but not too and just a really nice guy. Bless him. It’s a bit of a relief, that one, and I’m thanking my lucky stars.

I’m also slowly but surely getting some work done as far as the dissertation goes. I have severe trouble getting up in the morning - I guess there’s just a lot to look forward to doing with the day - but I’m trying my best to just do it. I was at the uni the other day, and my supervisor encouraged me, answered some of my questions, and let me know I was on the right track. Lord knows I need that kind of reassurance.

Today I also bumped into a guy I’ve seen countless times while waiting for the bus. He’s always walking two Jack Russel Terriers, one a bit bigger than the other, the smallest one lacking one eye. I’m a total sucker for little dogs since Bailey; Jack Russels in particular. The man had some trouble navigating the semi-blind one today while the slightly bigger one was trying to smell me. I reached for it so it could smell my hand, but the owner, a supernice guy I’ve exchanged a few random words with before, words like “dogs” “cute” and “aww”, warned me that the bigger one wasn’t too friendly. He invited me to stroke the other one though, who wasn’t just semi- but completely blind, and also a total sucker for scratches and cuddles. Awww.

I watched them walk along. The not-so-friendly dog and the superfriendly man, navigating the blind and friendly dog, letting him take his time. It was adorable.

If you can conjure up a smile on a cranky Simon Cowell’s face, you’re allll right kid. If you manage to do it with all of your front teeth missing because you’re six, you are a star.

Really truly wonderful. I’ll admit Amanda Holden wasn’t the only one who choked up. Something melts inside me every time her little tongue comes poking out through the gap in her teeth cause she’s smiling. Cute. Pure. And I think there’s a message in there somewhere.

Connie on Britain’s Got Talent

You can hear a pin drop.

Posting is still a little light and will likely remain so until I finish my dissertation. I currently have about 11,000 words to go, which sounds more terrible than it is, albeit only just. I have some idea of where I’m going with this which gives me some confidence (and apparently a certain aloofness that makes it seem as though I am not worried - trust me, I am. Most actively). I am baffled by the speed with which time races past, blink and you’ll miss it-style. I handed my last papers in on the 6th of May. That is almost three months ago, and I have yet to make a good dent in the 12,000 words minimum I need to hand in in another month’s time. Frightening.

Nevertheless, I have spent the time between then and now thinking about my topic, mulling it over, letting the ideas ripen. I’ve been looking around, trying to find the confidence to start this massive project, only to realise that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take courage to write a dissertation - it takes a lot of courage not to. As terrible as anything I write may be, it is better than not writing anything. No one needs to see it, not until I’m done polishing it up - and I need to create something to polish first.

So if you’ll excuse me, it’s high time for me to get back to clumsily explaining relief from restraint theory with respect to humour. And possibly find some more sources to back up my waffle. It’s pretty sensible waffle, so far. I’ll get there. :)

Aaaah! It’s too hot!

I know, just the other day I was complaining about the depressing rain, but that’s weather for you - something to complain about, something that’s never quite right. It has been so hot I haven’t been able to sleep under the covers. I’ve gone from wearing multiple layers and wondering if turning the heating on in July was really as ridiculous as it seemed to wearing skirts and singlets and breaking out in a sweat from mere typing.

I’m frustrated because I can’t seem to get work done. My head won’t work, and I’m procrastinating like a fool. Gah. But at least there are gorgeous sunsets to make up for it. A particularly beautiful one tonight!

My apologies for the lack of updates. It turns out that conferences, or at least those of the Poetics and Linguistics Association, are as much fun as they are work, possibly more. Among other things, I discussed the annoyance of having to be available at all times through modern technique with the author of the book I originally learnt how to do stylistics from, I learnt how to do very basic Irish céilí dancing while the author of a book I really enjoyed (as part of my research for my MA) was playing the guitar and another delegate the fiddle, with yet another few big names in stylistics dancing alongside me. What I’m trying to say is - it was surreal and an absolute joy.

I never expected to come away from this conference feeling smarter, given that all the greats would be attending. I didn’t expect it to be such an open, inviting and ego-free group. It was like a school camp, only more fun and stimulating. Lots of photos were taken, though not by me. I’m not sure how they will be distributed, or when, but should any pop up I might post them up here as well.

I slept 17 hours “last night” (I use the term loosely) and I’m still not quite back to normal, but I will try to update regularly again from now on. I don’t have anything fancy coming up until I move home, so I should be OK there.