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A Streetcar Named Desire at the Teatro Español

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I read Streetcar in high school, and there are a lot of tangential references to it in Almodovar’s Todo sobre mi madre, one of my favorite Almodovar films, which incorporates Streetcar as a narrative thread. Then there is, of course, the film: Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh at their best, with an excellent supporting crew like Karl Malden.

When you walk around New Orleans, there are many Tennessee Williams references: he drank a coffee here, he smoked a cigarette here, he tied his shoelaces here, you get the idea. So, I remember being fascinated by this author, having such a presence in New Orleans when I travelled there for work years ago. That presence worked both ways, as you could argue that New Orleans is another main character in the play.

But I had never seen it until last week when I saw a billboard at the Teatro Español, no less. I got tickets for Celia and me —admittedly, I got them late, so they were not the best…

It was fantastic! Nathalie Poza as Blanche drives the play with all the subtleties of her character. Pablo Derqui is not Marlon Brando, but he puts up a solid effort. The set, the direction, the sound, it all works out perfectly. The stage manager even has rain, “real” rain, which, while impressive, ends up being a bit of unnecessary gimmick. And, with this being the Teatro Español, the world’s oldest (mostly) continuously running theatre (since 1583), there is an added aura, added magic.

So if you are in Madrid before July 27, see A Streetcar Named Desire. You are welcome.

Are you really living if you are not volunteering and/or helping others? Pancreatic Cancer Action Network – PanCAN

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The PanCAN volunteers!!

Last summer, my dear friend Paco gave me Stefan Zweig’s great 1922 short story “The Eyes of My Brother, Forever” (“Die Augen des ewigen Bruders”), and it confirmed what I have known for a long time: volunteering and helping others might be the best thing you can do not only to get out of your shell but also to live your fullest life.

This was my third year volunteering for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network – PanCAN. They host the national Purple Stride event every Spring, and it is a great time! I serve as the Registration Lead volunteer, so everybody who has not registered for the event has to come to our tent. I must get up at 4 in the morning to be in Boca Raton at 5, but it is worth it. I had a blast with my sidekick Rona, whose son, like me, went to Bentley. She is a hilarious New Yorker, and I have a great time collaborating with her.

Listening to the radio, I recently learned that only 20% of the US population participates in “formal” that is, organized volunteering, as opposed to mowing your elderly neighbor’s yard. That number seems to me terribly low. Yes, you must turn off the TV and get off the couch, but it is worth it!!

So, look for volunteering options in our neighborhood: soup kitchens, food banks, or helping children with their studies. Whatever it is, it will fill your heart with joy. You are welcome.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” — Mother Teresa

Faith, Family, and Friends

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Pondering the pillars of personal stability and growth, I thought of Faith, Family, and Friends. I was excited about my alliteration until I looked it up online and found a ton of “Faith, Family, and Friends,” so it’s nothing new; I am not that original.

But the concept is still good. These are the three pillars to base one’s life on:

Faith: that there is something bigger than oneself, that you are not the center of the universe. That you stop and realize, and appreciate, that you are grateful for what you have, the blessings that you enjoy, like being able to read this blog!

There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too…. Dear God, these are anxious times…. We must help You to help ourselves. And that is all we can manage these days, and also all that really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves.

—Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life

Or

In God alone is my soul at rest.

God is the source of my hope.

In God I find shelter, my rock, and my safety.

—Psalm 62:5–6

Friends: this is a situation where less is more, where quality is more important than quantity, where you can share and get advice, sometimes without asking for it! In fact, friends is the reason this blog post came about. I recently drove to Naples (the Florida one), my old stomping ground, to visit some friends: Lukas, my old student, and Edu, my old boss, now dear friends. Yes, I had a 2-hour drive each way, but it was worth it. As a follow-up, I am going to an Inter Miami game with Lukas, not so much for soccer as for friendship.

Family: goes without saying.

So, make sure you are working on your relationships, all three of them! You are welcome.

Reading Lolita in Tehran, four books in one.

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Reading Lolita in Tehran

On a Sunday in January 1979, my dad and I were puttering around the garden, collecting, and chopping wood for the fireplace, listening to the radio. The news came on and explained that the Shah of Iran had fled the country into exile. I looked over at my dad, who had dropped the ax and was running up the stone stairs into the house. He took off to work at the bank -on a Sunday morning! My dad was a foreign exchange trader, and he knew the news of the Shah leaving Iran was going to cause a lot of market turmoil.

Growing up in London in the early 80s, there were many Iranian exiles. I remember going to school with a few of them. I also remember the SAS operation to liberate the Iranian embassy in 1980, a few blocks away from my best friend’s house. Even my mom’s English teacher was a beautiful, tall, elegant Iranian who brought me pistachio nuts and gave us a beautiful edition of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam.

After leaving London for college in Boston in 1983, I mostly forgot the Iranian revolution. A few weeks ago, I finally picked up a copy of Azar Nafisi’s Reading Lolita in Tehran, which had been waiting on my shelf for years, not knowing really what to expect. I loved every page. (Spoiler alerts)

The book is really four books woven into one magnificent narrative, like a-forgive the cheap simile-a fine Persian rug.

The main and overarching story is the author’s own story, her memoirs, from a child in Tehran, to studying in Europe and America, to teaching in Iran, and returning to the US. It is a fascinating life story.

The second thread of that biography is Nafisi´s job as a university professor of English literature, teaching: Lolita, The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, Emma, Daisy Miller, and Washington Square… in the classroom and eventually in her living room! which is where the name of the book comes from. But Nafisi does not stop at explaining that she taught (she still does); she gives her literary critiques of all the authors mentioned! It is a brilliant and amazing third layer, reading her interpretations of all these books. Yes, I felt jealous, as I have the same job as Nafisi, but I have nowhere near her capacity or talent.

The fourth story is the history of the Iranian revolution, the origins of the Islamic Republic, the persecutions, the disappearances, the crackdowns, etc. This story reminded me of Khaled Hosseini’s 2003 novel The Kite Runner, as he describes the crumbling of Afghanistan.

Yes, Reading Lolita in Tehran came out in 2003, but if you have not read it yet, I recommend it. You are welcome.

“Do not, under any circumstances, belittle a work of fiction by trying to turn it into a carbon copy of real life; what we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth.”
― Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books

The Quixotic in David Lynch’s The Straight Story

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The Straight Story poster

When people think of David Lynch, they think of surreal, dream sequences and noir-style classics like Blue Velvet or Mulholland Drive. Because it is in essence a documentary, The Straight Story is the exception to the rule. It is based on the real story of a fellow, Alvin Straight—thus the name—who travels to visit his brother 300 miles away on a riding lawnmower!!

Due to Lynch’s recent passing, we just celebrated a David Lynch month in Film Club, and it was fantastic, a little homage, our tribute. We saw Elephant Man, Blue Velvet, The Straight Story, and Mulholland Drive.

One of the many things I learned during this month’s research is how much of a jokester Lynch was—what a character! But did he know how much of a Quixotic journey his film represents?

The few outward, visible clues that Straight Story is a Midwestern, late 20th-century Quixote story are that Straight is an older, skinny, rough-bearded fellow with an existential need to embark on this trip. Like Don Quixote, he has a false start to his adventure, returning home before starting his quest. He has a cohort of naysayers -hanging out at the local hardware store, the hardheadedness, a boring home life; although he has a loving daughter in Sissy Spacek, a phenomenal, but underrated actress.

The Straight Story poster

Along the way, he has many adventures: he encounters a group of cyclists, reminiscent of Quijote’s encounter with the herd of sheep, the lady who keeps running over deer, a few close encounters with 18-wheelers, giants? Etc.

But at the end of the day, this is a story of a man seeking his redemption, it is a physical representation of an inner journey, it is an existential, transcendental quest. It is important to know that while most road films represent an escape, in this case, like in Quijote, the journey is a necessary trip of personal realization.

The film is beautifully shot with great photography of the vast Midwest, not unlike the plains and hills of La Mancha. Straight camps out most nights, and like Quijote depends on the charity of strangers to progress on his trip.

One could argue that most road trip films are in some way Quixotic, but I argue that Lynch’s Straight Story is particularly so.

Rene Magritte at the Baker Museum in Naples

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René Magritte might not be a household name, even though you might have his iconic Ceci n’est pas une pipe print hanging in your room or have seen his images many times.

Magritte (1898-1967) was a Belgian surrealist painter known for his amusing but ingenious surrealism, the body of a man in a suit with an apple for a head, the pipe painting, and so on.

On a recent trip to Naples (the Florida one), I had a bit of time in between meeting friends, so I snuck into the Baker Museum (which I write about here).

The Magritte exhibition was admittedly small, with just half a dozen paintings sandwiched inside a much bigger exhibition about the Everglades and its environment. But it was still worthwhile and beautiful to sit down for a while and contemplate these paintings that make you think about the metaphysical.

Magritte: Reflections of Another World comprises six paintings — five oils and one gouache — by Belgian artist René Magritte (1898-1967). Renowned for his witty Surrealist paintings of everyday objects in strange surroundings, Magritte preferred that his artworks remain mysterious and open to interpretation. These works are from the collection of Jean Van Parys, a collector of avant-garde art and a close friend of Magritte, and they are on a five-year loan to Artis—Naples, The Baker Museum from Van Parys’ daughter. The paintings have never previously been shown in North America, and none have exhibited publicly in over 48 years. Baker Museum

Tokio Ramen, my obsession with noodles

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One of the recurring topics of this blog is food. I have written about paella, American breakfasts, sushi, pizza, and now noodles. Noodles in all their great Asian versions have been a relatively recent discovery for me, but I love them.

This is a bit embarrassing, but it might have been my old friend Theo who took me to Wagamama’s in London in the 90s, not the most authentic experience, but enough to get me hooked!

The beauty of noodles is that a bowl of noodles is a full meal in one serving. You have soup, noodles, some proteins, some veggies, and a perfect meal.

Boynton Beach has a few great noodle venues, with Tokio Ramen being right down the street from me, so I go with some regularity. It is run by an older, cute Japanese couple who also sell some Japanese candy and sodas. But the star is noodles. They come in different broths, with different proteins, eggs, pork, etc., paired with a Japanese beer, you have the perfect meal. The place is simple, nothing fancy, but it does not need bells and whistles, it has phenomenal ramen, which is really all you need! It is reasonably priced and did I mention they have Japanese beer?

If, like me, you are a noodle aficionado, you must see the great Japanese film Tampopo about a ramen joint in Tokyo!

What is your favorite type of noodles? And your favorite noodle restaurant?

Teaching beyond the classroom; a night at the opera.

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If you are a teacher, you are not only teaching your subject matter: you are teaching your behavior, your attitude, your presentation. More importantly, you are teaching your whole field. So, if you are teaching a science, then you are teaching the whole scientific method. In my case, I am not only teaching language, but I am also teaching culture, diversity, and the humanities.

With this excuse, the Philosophy faculty and I recently arranged a field trip to the Palm Beach Opera’s Marriage of Figaro. It was fantastic. For most of the students (if not all), this was their first time at the opera, and they were pleasantly surprised. The key takeaway is that the students appreciate a new art form for them, understanding the beauty of art. Especially an art where the artist is the instrument, so no two can ever be the same!

Unlike, say, The Magic Flute, Mozart does not have any blockbuster songs in this opera, but the whole thing is very melodious and easy to enjoy. The story is funny but moralistic -this is the Enlightenment after all! So the students were never bored; they were able to enjoy the story and the music. Coincidentally, we had just studied the Enlightenment in class, reading Benito Jeronimo Feijoo, so to see the students making connections is extremely rewarding. Mission accomplished.

If you have a chance to have your students make connections outside the classroom, across different fields, let them rip! You are welcome.

Here are two of my favorites, Cecilia Bartoli and Renée Fleming, doing one of the more famous duets:

About academic conferences, the Southeast Coastal Conference on Languages and Literatures.

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With Martha, Encarni, and Grant from UNC

Academic conferences were designed to share knowledge, to understand where your field stands, and where it is heading. But equally important is the opportunity they afford to meet new people in your field and to catch up with old colleagues.

This was the case at the recent Southeast Coastal Conference on Languages and Literatures hosted by Georgia Southern in Savannah, Georgia.

It all started when Grant, my mentor at UNC, who now teaches at Georgia Southern with his wonderful Sevillana wife Encarni, invited me to present at their conference. I was honored; I had never been invited to attend a conference! I had always just submitted a paper to a conference I wanted to participate in. Fortunately, I was already working on an article (you will have to wait for a post on that), so I agreed to go.

Savannah is a great place; you can read about it here.

The fact that this conference combines languages and literature means that you can learn about different aspects of language pedagogy. The Keynote speaker, Mary Risner from the University of Florida, spoke about the resources available online and innovative pedagogies and partnerships. Other great panels spoke about the study abroad experience and how to maximize it and “replicate” it in class, and so on.

My panel was wonderful. Bobby Nixon from Columbus State spoke about Spanish 70s horror films based on Becquer’s poetry, Adrianne Woods presented about the theatre of Buero Vallejo, and I presented about my main man, Isla, and the expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain.

But, as I mentioned earlier, the best part of conferences is reconnecting with old friends and colleagues. The evening’s reception was held at a great venue, a food truck plaza called Starland Yard. It was great to see dear friends from UNC and to meet new folks.

So, if you get a chance, write a paper and present it at a conference!! You are welcome.

Luis Correa-Díaz Up from Georgia-lcd

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How do you deal with the metaphysical? That which is beyond your grasp? Your conception? Well, if you are Luis Correa-Díaz, you write poetry. If, like me, you do not have that kind of talent, you read his poetry.

Up from Georgia is a collection of 64 sestets which look innocent enough, until you read them; then get ready to have them move you.

Some poems are whimsical, even funny on the surface, like the opener, referring to the Georgia font, but with a twist at the end referencing a possible epitaph, like the surprise ending of a haiku.

What follows -and this is the trick- are poems about death and farewells, but lit with self-referential jesting, with the light from his favorite coffee shop in Athens (the Georgia one), AI, QRs, REM (also from Athens, the Georgia one), NASA, bagels, Chick-fil-A, or proto-cyborgs. But do not be fooled, those waters are deeper than they seem: they talk of Ercilla, and Thomas Merton, of Gregorio Marañón, and of course, Neruda.

It is in this dance between the mundane and the transcendental that Correa-Díaz flourishes, that he lets us into his world, into his moods, one line at a time.

This is the brilliance of Correa-Díaz, a 21st-century poet, crafting the juxtaposition of beautiful poetry, full of meaning and sentiment in a breakfast joint in Athens (the Georgia one).