The screening of Latin American documentary shorts organised by Asociación ProDocumentales Cine y TV and Casa de Colón. La Sombra de Don Roberto is probably the most powerful film of the lot but my favourite was Mini Cine Tupy.
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Friday, 21 November 2025
Seven short films
Wednesday, 19 November 2025
Al otro lado
by Can Xue
translated by Tyra Díez and Teresa I. Tejeda旧居
沼泽地
女王
translated by Tyra Díez and Teresa I. Tejeda
I borrowed this book from the library without even knowing who Can Xue is. I just read the first paragraph of the first story that gave the collection its name and knew that I had to finish it. A few days later, I read that Can Xue was one of the favourites to win this year’s Nobel prize in literature. I didn’t read anything by the actual winner but I hate him already.
This compilation contains 10 stories originally published by Can Xue between 2010 and 2018; five translated by Tyra Díez and five by Teresa I. Tejeda. All these stories can be found in English translation by Karen Gernant and Chen Zeping in I Live in the Slums (Yale University Press, 2020), but I haven’t read that book. I can only hope the English versions are as good.
It’s a shame I don’t read Mandarin though because something is always lost in translation. Does the name of the village in La reina (Wang) refers to its most famous citizen, 女王 (Nǚwáng)? Is Mrs Wang of Catfish Pit also a royal? Even more intriguingly, is Xiao Ping of Catfish Pit the same girl as Xiao Ping of Venus?
Ah well. In words of Liane Moriarty, not all mysteries are meant to be solved.
Un señor mayor cogió una tetera y preguntó a Zhou Yizhen por el precio. Ella le contestó que no era la dueña de la tienda.
— Y si no eres la dueña, ¿qué haces aquí parada? — dijo en tono de reproche —. Ten el coraje de hacerte cargo. ¡Ja! He visto el precio, está pegado en el fondo de la tetera. Veintitrés yuanes.
Sacó el dinero, contó veintitrés yuanes, los puso sobre el mostrador y se dirigió hacia fuera farfullando aún enfadado: «No he visto nunca peor manera de hacer negocios que la tuya».
La antigua casa
Curiosamente, esta vez encontró el estudio fotográfico sin mayor complicación. Seguía siendo el edificio de ladrillo visto de tres plantas, aunque el cartel original «Fotografía de boda» había desaparecido de su fachada, así como su puerta principal. Era como si hubiera cambiado su orientación, y la entrada ya no diera a la callejuela. Ah Yuan se acercó al muro y pegó la oreja. No oyó nada. Una niña de once o doce años se le acercó.
— Eh, ¿qué haces? — le preguntó.
— ¿Sabes como puedo entrar? — le replicó a su vez, avergonzado.
— ¿Entrar? No se puede, este edificio no tiene puerta.
— ¿Y hay alguien dentro?
— Claro que hay alguien.
— Quiero decir, los que están dentro, ¿nunca salen?
— Y por qué tendrían que salir? No los he visto ni una vez. Puedes quedarte aquí esperando todo lo que quieras, pero será inútil.
El humedal
Frente a ella estaba aquella mujer. Zhen no pudo evitar preguntar en voz baja:
— ¿Reina?
— Eso parece — se adivinaba cierto tono burlón en su voz.
— No pretendía importunarla.
— De todas formas, ya me has molestado. Has supuesto muy bien, no necesito que nadie venga a hacerme compañía. En cambio, sí me gusta aleccionar a los demás, es mi punto débil. Tu problema resulta muy fácil de solucionar, te voy a ayudar a resolverlo ahora mismo.
La reina
Al otro lado
| 隔墙的那边 | Al otro lado * | The Other Side of the Partition |
| 旧居 | La antigua casa † | Her Old Home |
| 鹿二的心事 | El tormento de Lu Er * | Lu-er’s Worries |
| 老蝉 | La vieja chicharra * | The Old Cicada |
| 鲇鱼套 | El Recodo del Siluro † | Catfish Pit |
| 幸福 | Plenitud * | Euphoria |
| 沼泽地 | El humedal * | The Swamp |
| 鬼屋 | La montaña del Cuervo † | Crow Mountain |
| 女王 | La reina † | The Queen |
| 启明星 | Venus † | Venus |
| * | Translated by Tyra Díez |
| † | Translated by Teresa I. Tejeda |
Monday, 10 November 2025
The Thread (𐄏)
| 𐄋 | 𐄊 | 𐄉 |
| 𐄌 | 𐄇 | 𐄈 |
| 𐄍 | 𐄎 | 𐄏 |
As long as I remember, I knew I was adopted. It never was a big deal for me. The official story I heard was that my biological parents died in a war inflicted by Father and he, out of guilt, took me to the palace. I’ll probably never learn the truth. In public, my adoptive parents did not treat me better or worse than the rest of my siblings. Well, Father didn’t show much affection toward either of his daughters. No doubt Mother loved all her children but, as she spent most of her time in the Women’s Wing, she developed much closer connection with us girls. And since it was only me who accompanied Mother to the Facility, our bond grew stronger.
Mother never told me what I should do. She explained what I can do and what could be the consequences of that. I would not go so far as to say that there were no secrets between us. I can’t read Mother’s mind. She is very good at keeping her and others’ secrets. But I have many reasons to believe she has been most open with me. And I strived to return the openness.
As soon as I realised that my and Aster’s relationship is much bigger than that of brother and sister, I shared the news with Mother. She responded, darling, I knew it, but thanks for telling me.
Her reaction didn’t mean she didn’t care. Quite the opposite.
One day she told me, Aster grew up without a father. I suppose you don’t want that for your child. So you two may want to talk through between yourselves whether it’s a good idea to start a family while Aster is in the Maze.
While Aster is in the Maze.
She said it almost casually, as if my lover’s freedom was simply a matter of time.
Then I realised that Mother was not hoping for a miracle to happen but actively searching the ways to achieve this objective. And counting on my help.
As the Fates had it, the Athenian ship brought us the solution. The High Priestess, who at the time combined that post with her position as Head of Intelligence, was in cahoots from the start. To keep the status quo, you have to be open to change, she said. The stranger came to our land to change the status quo. Let’s put him in charge of the status quo.
The show must go on. One Monster in the Maze is quite enough for the purposes of the Programme.
And she was right.
I am writing this as Aster and I are basking in the autumn sun on the desolate beach. He’s dozing off as I caress his African hair. After a stint on the continent, we moved again and now live in a fishing village on a small island far away from both Athens and our homeland. The people are friendly but not nosy; that suits us. Here we are known as The Foreigners and happy to be accepted as such. I keep in touch with Mother. She sends us letters every moon — mind you, separate ones for me and Aster. We read them aloud to each other and laugh. Recently she asked me, do you still play with your toy boy? A bit rich of her, considering.
It’s true that sometimes I still act as an elder sister to Aster. In the past six years, I taught him to swim, to sail and to ride horses. So what? In his turn, he explained a lot of things to me, most of them hardly practical. Like probability theory. But he’s also shown me how to cook — which is great, because I always hated it. I wonder who he learned cooking from. Right now, he is into Italian cuisine and teaches me some simple dishes. He says, it’s the future.
Speaking of which: we don’t plan to have children yet. Aster spends a lot of time fishing, sometimes he’s away for several days. What he earns from selling his catch is enough for the two of us, but only just. For my part, I tried my luck giving private classes and discovered, to my consternation, that there’s no great demand for skills I can teach. There are no cities on this island. Maybe we’ll have to move once again. Wherever we go, it has to be next to the sea.
I used to write a diary in Knossos. Not anymore. Here papyrus is scarce and expensive. Whatever we can get hold of, we use for writing letters. I scribble these notes on a scroll of washed papyrus that I bought at a flea market, still on the continent.
Conversely, the current resident of the Maze has taken to writing, I’m told. When he’s in a mood, he reads selected scrolls to Mother. He calls his work “memoirs”; according to Mother, it’s more like speculative fiction. She encourages him to publish it, under the stylus name of his choice and edited by herself. We’ll see. I, for one, would like to read it when it’s out. I even sent Mother my own suggestion for that name: Asteroid. Don’t you dare, she wrote back.
If our roles were reversed, I would reply with the same words. That Athenian and Aster have got absolutely nothing in common, apart from both being men.
Why did I talk to him that night anyway? The High Priestess advised us just before dinner that there was enough intelligence gathered to confirm the identity of the spy. Yet I felt he deserved the benefit of doubt… until we talked. I saw it in his eyes. He stared at me as if saying, don’t worry, Princess, I’ll be back and I’ll take you. So I cut our conversation short and gave him the skein. By the way, it was Mother’s idea to make his route in the Maze as predictable as possible. In general, to replace his plan with ours. Him following the instructions confirmed what we already knew.
What amazes me is that he bought into our plan hook, thread and sinker. He didn’t even bother to leave any wall marks after him, which was an obvious thing to do. Not that bright for a spy. Mother says, all these years he kept whingeing how I — that’s me — betrayed his trust. Some people got a nerve.
Earlier this year, the High Priestess ruled out that the Athenian will ever be released, good behaviour notwithstanding. All evidence points to him being a serial killer and vigilante, also wanted by the authorities in Athens. So he’ll stay where he is. At least in the Maze he’s got a new identity... and the rest of his life. The Fourth Exercise is going ahead as planned.
It’s funny how you try to get away from it all only to start bumping into people from the past. We met Dead while travelling in Italy. He told us the Island was getting too uncomfortable for him, without going into details. I strongly suspect it was Mother again who organised his escape, however Dead insisted that he had nobody to thank but himself. His latest contrivance supposedly allows one to whizz from the Island to the mainland in a matter of hours. In time, he said, it will revolutionise travel, but for now it’s too expensive to enter mass production. Aster nodded enthusiastically; I thought the old chap was losing his marbles.
In other news, Mother’s long-time dream has come true: she has opened the School of Pharmacy which boasts world-famous lecturers and where she herself teaches twice a week. There were rumours that the Chair of Toxicology was offered to a certain Medea. Mother didn’t confirm or deny that. She maintains that the selection process is still ongoing and strictly confidential. For now they occupy the old Facility but tarting next academic year they’ll move to the purpose-built premises on the waterfront. I’m so happy for her.
Isn’t it strange that these days I think about Mother much more than when I lived in the palace? No, it’s only natural. Back then I was thinking about Aster most of the time. Now I don’t have to.
I never ask about Father, and she never volunteers any information about him. In this, Mother and I didn’t change: we continue blocking him from our minds. I heard from the other sources that he might suffer early-onset dementia. I’m determined not to care.
In her last letter Mother said, Ari, you made your own choice. You could have chosen any free man you wanted. But Aster, he didn’t know any better, or any worse. His only choice has been you. There’s no reason why one should stay with another forever. Now that he is free, he might fall in love with another woman. And you may discover that you don’t want to live with him any more. It’s fine by me. If I were faithful to my husband, there wouldn’t be Aster.
I still did not read this one to him. Should I?
I think I should. There’s also this part that clearly is for the two of us:
I am fed up with you lot addressing me as “Mother” as if there were no other purpose in my life. Stop it. From now on, call me Pasi.
Friday, 7 November 2025
Come Taste the Band
by Deep Purple
Isn’t it curious how, 50 years later*, the only Mark IV studio album still manages to divide Purple fans. Is it, or is not, DP? Why it shouldn’t be DP? Come Taste the Band could (or should) be called pioneering for being the first album in Purple discography not to feature Ritchie Blackmore. It’s not Machine Head, and thanks for that. It did not spawn any stadium hits à la Smoke on the Water — ditto.
I myself didn’t quite dig CTTB upon first hearing, some time in early ’80s. The fact that I heard the atrocious Last Concert in Japan first must have contributed to my initial prejudice towards Tommy Bolin. But why? Poor Tommy couldn’t even play on Last Concert in Japan, not with two hands anyway. Forget it. On CTTB, Bolin shines through and through. Re-listening it now, I realise how ahead of the time this record was.
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The title is, of course, a portmanteau of the famous Cabaret lyrics. My favourite tracks are Gettin’ Tighter, This Time Around/Owed to ‘G’ and You Keep On Moving. The 35th Anniversary Edition (why not 30th or 36th, I wonder?) does not provide much in terms of extra material. The second CD (2010 Kevin Shirley Remix) is a refreshing alternative worth listening to... before you go back to enjoy the “original” version, in this case, CD1 (i.e. 2010 Digital Remaster). If I owned a turntable, a space to house it, and £105 to spare, I’d go for the real thing, not least because of its gorgeous cover art.
| * | Wikipedia says, in the same article, that the album was released on 10 October 1975 and on 7 November 1975. This cannot be right. According to the BPI database, Come Taste the Band was certified silver on 01.11.1975, six days before its release on 07.11.1975. |
Monday, 3 November 2025
The Thread (𐄎)
| 𐄋 | 𐄊 | 𐄉 |
| 𐄌 | 𐄇 | 𐄈 |
| 𐄍 | 𐄎 | 𐄏 |
Patient Visit Report
Name: Asterion, son of Pasiphaë
Age: 24 years
Last routine examination: five moons ago; no illness reported (as per the patient’s medical record).
Chief complaint: that he is restrained.
Other complaints: the continental breakfast portion size.
Description: the patient is disoriented (not knowing where he is) and confused about his own identity. Shows aggressive-suicidal behaviour. Talks about himself variously in first (“I’m a <illegible> hero”), third (“Have to destroy the Minotaur”, “Death to the Minotaur”, etc.), and both first and third person (“I’ll show him”). Uses formal titles for his close relatives (the Queen, the Princess) while can describe their appearance in greater than necessary detail. In spite of spending most of his life in the Maze, apparently unable to find his way around, e.g. to the bathroom. Paradoxically, immediately recognised me as his doctor (false memory) with the words “You’re late again, <illegible> quack”. Tachycardia.
Diagnosis: acute psychosis.
Immediate treatment: Her Majesty Pharmacy™ Herbal Sedative no. 21, orally, 1 dose with a cup of Valerian infusion.
Follow-up: continue with a daily dose of Herbal Sedative no. 21 for two weeks. Plenty of rest and <illegible>. 24-hour surveillance nurse attention. Weekly music therapy sessions (optional; flute is not recommended). Avoid alcohol and spicy food. Double portion of continental breakfast.
Revision: in two weeks’ time from today. In case of emergency, call me in.
Date: <illegible>
Signed: <illegible>
| Note 1: the patient’s regular doctor could not be reached at the time of episode as she was off to a Mediterranean cruise. This report was completed by the Emergency Physician who was given access to the patient’s medical records under oath of non-disclosure. | |
| Note 2: for the two weeks, the patient was kept at the Facility, then transferred back to the Maze after the medical revision. | |
To be continued...
Saturday, 1 November 2025
(Almost) free live music and stuff in Las Palmas, October 2025
What we’ve seen in October:
- 4 October: «Tránsito, Lienzo y Voz» @ Casa de Colón, Calle Colón, 1, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria
- A concert of Camerata Lacunensis, a chamber choir of the University of La Laguna (Tenerife) lead by Jose Herrero. The programme included:
- O lux beata Trinitas (Andrej Makor)
- Wade in the Water (traditional, arr. Stacey V. Gibbs)
- Veni sponsa Christi (Albert Alcaraz). Soloist: Celia Martín
- Si ha de ser (Jose Herrero — Josefina de la Torre)
- Let My Love Be Heard (Jake Runestad — Alfred Noyes)
- Penas (Beatriz Corona — José Martí). Quartet of soloists: Amayra García, Lucía Torres, Pedro San Blas and Andrés Rodríguez.
- Verano (Jose Herrero — Félix Duarte Pérez). Soloist: Celia Martín
- El Guayaboso (Guido López-Gavilán)
- Folías (traditional, arr. Jose Herrero). Soloist: Vicky López
- El cuarto de Tula (Sergio González Siaba, arr. Jose Herrero)
- 6 October: 30MASDANZA @ Casa de Colón, Calle Colón, 1
- The programme included:
- Raquel Gualtero Soriano (Ibagué, Colombia — Barcelona, Spain): 360º
- Catarina Casqueiro & Tiago Coelho (Lisbon, Portugal): Forget Me Not
- Eugenio Micheli & Marta Papaccio (Catania, Italy): The Waiting
- Albert Hernández & Irene Tena (Madrid, Spain): No
- 8 October: Luis Quintana @ Palacete Rodríguez Quegles, Calle Benito Pérez Galdós, 4
- What I find irritating in a performer: (1) asking the audience to sing with, or instead of, them (90% of cantautores do it); (2) explaining what their songs are about; (3) wearing a hat on stage. LQ does all this and it is annoying. I liked Ángel Ravelo’s sax (he didn’t ask the crowd to play any with him).
- 9 October: MASDANZA Showcase I @ Sala Gabriel Rodó, Paseo Principe de Asturias
- The programme included:
- Kiko López (Valencia, Spain): Honest
- Charlotte Carpentier & Giovanni Molendi (Gzira, Malta): Silenced
- Olé Khamchanla (Saint Vallier, France): Cercle
- Cristina Roggerini & Gaia Mondini (Marano di Napoli, Italy): Last Movement of Hope: II Chapter — Organs
- Paula Comitre & Julio Ruiz; cante: Al Blanco (Seville, Spain): Un diálogo entre Paula Comitre y Julio Ruiz
- 12 October: The 5.6.7.8’s @ Parque de San Telmo
- The Big Bang Vintage Festival this year was not free. We discovered this on Sunday when the security guy told us that the concert was “a private event” and we were meant to purchase tickets. The prices were €50 (a four-day pass) and €20 (a one-day pass). We were not ready to pay €20 per person for just one concert, and, judging by the applauses, it didn’t look like there was great attendance. Timur and I stayed outside the bus station to listen for the fist few songs. The sound quality wasn’t impressive either.
- 28 October: «Arrudeio» @ Casa de Colón
- This concert was part of the 22nd (!) Festival Tensamba — why haven’t I heard of it before? With Camila Masiso (vocals, percussion) and Carol Benigno (accordion).
And exhibitions:
- 25 September — 24 October: «Caminar la forma» @ Centro Cultural CICCA, Alameda de Colon, 1
- Wood sculptures by Juan Carlos Déniz.
- 30 October — 28 November: Exposición del Concurso «Gran Canaria de Series de Obra Gráfica» @ Centro de Artes Plásticas (CAP), Calle Colón, 8
- ...where you can see some engravings by Tamara and Timur.
Bye, October.
Wednesday, 29 October 2025
An Artist of the Floating World
by Kazuo Ishiguro
Ishiguro’s second novel is not a follow-up, but is in a similar vein to A Pale View of Hills. The narrator, a retired painter Ono, could be considered a development of Ogata-San. The title, as I just learned, is based on the literal translation of Ukiyo-e, “picture of the floating world”. Once again, the characters seem to be permanently embarrassed about practically everything.
This childlike aspect of Shintaro has frequently been a source of entertainment for Mrs Kawakami, who has a somewhat wicked side to her. One night recently, for instance, during a rainstorm, Shintaro had come running into the little bar and begun squeezing his cap out over the doormat. |
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