Nobel FC: Bjørnsterne Bjørnson

Nobel FC: Bjørnsterne Bjørnson

Background

As you might guess from a name with this many slashed o’s, Bjørnsterne was Norwegian. He was part of the so called “Four Greats” in Norwegian writing of the 19th century. While Henrik Ibsen is the best known, Bjørnson was part of the Norwegian Nobel committee…and as you’ll find out, having a connection with powerful people helps a little. Still Bjørnson was a quality writer, and was particularly lauded for “his noble, magnificent and versatile poetry, which has always been distinguished by both the freshness of its inspiration and the rare purity of its spirit” (which is saying something as he only wrote one book of poetry. There were lots of essays, newspaper articles, and some plays and books, but the poetry was all I could find at the library)

Works

From: “Song for Norway”

Yes, we love this land that towers
Where the ocean foams;
Rugged, storm-swept, it embowers
Many thousand homes.
Love it, love it, of you thinking
Father, mother dear,
And that night of saga sinking
Dreamful to us here.

1859 (This also became the Norwegian National Anthem)

From: “Norway, Norway!”

Norway, Norway,
Rising in blue from the sea’s gray and green,
Islands around like fledglings tender,
Fjord-tongues with slender,
Tapering tips in the silence seen.
Rivers, valleys,
Mate among mountains wood-ridge and slope
Wandering follow. Where the wastes lighten,
Lake and plain brighten,
Hallow a temple of peace and hope.
Norway, Norway
Houses and huts, not castles grand,
Gentle or hard,
Thee we guard, thee we guard,
Thee our future’s fair land.

Message

As you can tell, Bjørnson’s primary message is that Norway is awesome (also awesome…if my translation is right, his name translates to “Bear-star Bear-son”). One of his primary ways of getting there is through the realism that marks him and the other Four Greats. His writing names some of the best things around and how it moves him. Digging deeper into his work we might say that his message is that the world and the space around us is powerful, beautiful and inspiring just as it is, and to appreciate what there is. (Not unlike JM Coetzee…only older and more unkempt)

Position: #8 Central Midfielder

Bjørnson does not exactly strike me as a great or inspiring writer that I want to go back to. But it’s clear that he loved his country and wanted to be a leader in the arena of politics, literature, diplomacy, and just about everything. It makes him seem a bit like the noisiest voice in your recess pick up game, even if he is far from the best player out there. He would run here, there, and everywhere, like a box-to-box midfielder who is a bit past their prime. (And obviously, since he’s all about Norway, I put his crest in the Rosenborg White and Black.)

I realize that this critique is probably going to rile up Norwegian literary scholars (they are one of my biggest demographics). So by all means bring on your arguments to the contrary!

Next Time:

We’ve gone throughout the year with seven reviews (one for every twenty years). I’m tempted to start going in ten year increments (all the old nominee posts were done and dusted by the end of June)…but I’d like to make sure that I can keep this pace up before I commit. So we’ll stay in 20 year increments to prepare for the 2024 honoree next fall. But there will be extra posts because there was a double laureate in 1904 (Shocked face).

1904 Honorees–Frederic Mistral and Jose Echegaray

Nobel FC (2023): Jon Fosse

Nobel FC (2023): Jon Fosse

Background

Fosse is only the fourth Norwegian to win the highest award in literature, and the first one in almost a century (but there’s totally not a Swedish Norwegian rivalry…goodness no). Born in Southwestern, Norway (in the town of Haugesund…a frequent opponent of our favorite Rosenborg sides), he committed himself to writing after an early accident left him confronting mortality. But while he was always a writer, he almost opted to focus instead on being a rock ‘n’ roll musician. He opted to continue studying and building his authorial voice being called (in different turns) a Modern Ibsen, or a Norwegian Beckett, culminating in the Nobel committee naming him its laureate “for his innovative plays and prose which give voice to the unsayable”

Works

God is so far away that no one can say anything about him and that’s why all ideas about God are wrong, and at the same time he is so close that we almost can’t notice him, because he is the foundation in a person, or the abyss, you can call it whatever you want

all good art has this spirit, good pictures, good poems, good music and what makes it good is not the material, not matter, and its not the content the idea, the thought, no, what makes it good is just this unity of matter and form and soul that becomes spirit…prayer and confession and penance all at once…

God is love and love is inconceivable without free will…

Jon Fosse from A New Name (parts VI and VII of the Septology, published 2022 in translation by Damion Searles

Message

Stream of conscious writing isn’t my favorite, and it can be almost impenetrable, but Fosse’s work was surprisingly smooth and comforting. Everything in the work I read A New Name played beautiful with random chance, doubled identities, parallel realities and the indescribable unity of everything. If I can put an overly simplistic button on it, I would say: there is an absurdity to everything we say and think and do, and that absurdity is part of the beauty of life.

Position: #8 Box to Box Midfielder

Fosse’s style is so fluid, so wide ranging, and so impossible to pin down (intentionally so given the stream of conscious style) that the only position that can do him justice is the #8 role, where he has the freedom to push forward or drop back as he pleases. And indeed, he, his work, and everything he offers can be both fulcrum of the attack and anchor of the defense all at the same moment.

Sound off in the comments below to share your thoughts on the newest member of the Nobel FC Family

Next Time (Rewind the Clocks, we’re going to catch up on one that we missed in our Mess of 03’s, and another Norwegian to boot) 1903 Honoree–Bjornsterne Bjornson

Nobel FC: Newest Member Draft

Nobel FC: Newest Member Draft

In just a few days, the Nobel committee will announce the winner of the 2023 Nobel Prize for Literature. They will join an elite group of writers from around the world, and a small selection of those writers who we have read, reviewed, and classified as members of Nobel FC: The only Fantasy Football team where the Fantasy is that these people would ever play.

I’ll try to read the author in question as soon as I can, and write their post by the beginning of November, but I wanted to take a moment to consider who will be joining this august group.

How does the “draft” work

In Professional Sports there are annual “drafts” where teams select from a collection of players not yet in the league. They study and examine their abilities, debate the best choice, and then “draft” someone to become a part of their organization.

The Nobel Prize is a little like that. The “Team” in question is the Swedish Academy (of Literature). They collection of players not yet in the league is literally everyone on earth, who has yet to be awarded the Nobel, is living, and who wrote something. (Literally, they have awarded a prime minister for stirring speech writing, and a folk singer for his lyrics.)

That’s a big field so they take in nominations from other Academies of Literature around the world, professors of universities, living laureates, and presidents of Authors’ guilds. That is still a very big field so they narrow it down to five finalists: study and examine the writers abilities, debate the best choice and then “award” someone the Prize.

This process has been a little controversial over the years. After all, why do the Swedes get the final vote? (Alfred Nobel said so) Does the fact that the Swedish Academy is mostly old, white, male, Europeans explain the fact that most of the laureates in history have been old, white, male Europeans? (Yes) Will they try to be more inclusive in the future? (Yes, though they kind of had to after a pretty ugly scandal).

So Who Could be “Drafted” This Year?

We don’t know the top 5 candidates, or even the top 100 candidates who got nominated, and we won’t for another 50 years (long after the internet, including this post becomes a time capsule for aliens). But we have a list of likely candidates from gamblers and prognosticators. (I’ll toss out 11 here)

The leading favorites are Can Xue, a Chinese author who frequently challenges the increasingly authoritarian establishment in Beijing, and Haruki Murakami, a Japanese writer (and one of my wife’s absolute favorites) who writes book that have a following in seemingly every country on earth. However, given that the Nobel likes writers who court a little political controversy, Murakami seems less likely than Xue. It’s also been more than 10 years since an Asian Writer was awarded the prize, so you could argue that Xue/Murakami would get an overdue award.

Of the last ten laureates 4 have been from Western Anglophile countries, and 2 have been French. So other plausible candidates like American Thomas Pynchon, Global Indian/Brit/American Salman Rushdie, Canadian Anne Carson and Australian Gerald Murnane and Frenchman Pierre Michon seem to be plausible if the Academy doesn’t try to break from it’s old habits of just cycling through the West’s heaviest hitters. (YAY FOR HEGEMONY!)

If they wanted to award a Western literary heavyweight but NOT someone who writes in a frequently awarded language, then they could consider Norwegian playwright Jon Fosse, or Romanian novelist Mircea Cartarescu. Then again they have given out 3 awards to similar writers in the past ten years, all of whom were political, but one of whom (Austrian Peter Handke) had massive PR blowback due to his excuses for genocidal dictators.

Beyond Europe and Asia, the oddsmakers and the pundits don’t have many options. Perennial contender Ngui wa Thiong’o of Kenya looks to represent Subsaharan Africa, while Mexican poet Homero Aridjis is judged the best bet from Latin America (an area of the world not awarded since 2010)

Analysis: Who will it be? Who should it be?

In articles analysing a team’s draft-day decisions, writers look at two things. What they think the team leaders will do, and what the author themselves would do if they had a chance.

Having already read books by Murakami and Rushdie, I read a few well-recommended lines from the other nine and came up with this analysis.

The Academy Will Pick

The Swedish Academy tends not to prioritize the best selling or most widely acclaimed author available, they prefer those who have something artistic to offer in their work and especially if they have something beyond the purely personal to uncover. At times that leads them to revel in awarding obscure writers, and in the last three years, awarding more diverse picks.

So I think they will pick: Can Xue. I only read very brief exceprts from her work…but even that seemed weird and obtuse. Critics claim her work is often plotless, but that’s not a negative in the hands of the Nobel Committee. She’s got art, she’s got style, she’s got a point of view. She’s got to be the favorite.

Honorable mentions: John Fosse, Mircera Cartarescu, Homero Aridjis.

I Would Pick

If left up to me, I would try to award a writer from outside the common-sphere of Nobel winners (ie Western Europe/America and white men). A more diverse writer with a point of view that connects to the wider world would be the ideal for me. Artistry is something I think lies in the eye of the beholder, so better to be clear than artful in my eyes.

So I would pick: Homero Aridjis. Admittedly, I only looked at four of his poems, but he evokes a universality similar to Paz and Neruda, while also considering the broader scope of history and nature–which might suit the climate change conscious Academy/myself to boot.

Honorable Mentions: Salman Rushdie (I still think of him as an Indian writer despite his increasingly American identity), Ngui wa Thiong’o, Louise Erdrich (totally left field pick, I also wanted to offer a woman of color)

Who would you pick?

Leave a comment below, please, even alien overlords, comment with your pick.

Next Time…I rush to judgement on whomever our winner is Jon Fosse

Jon Fosse is your 2023 Nobel Laureate.

I’m awarding myself 2 Nonsense points (1 if they’re on the 11, 2 if they’re in my Honorable mentions, 5 if I actually call it…see how long it takes me to get to 11)

Nobel FC: JM Coetzee

Nobel FC: JM Coetzee

Background

Our first laureate from outside of Europe, John Maxwell Coetzee was born in Cape Town, South Africa back when the country was fiercely divided between the white colonists and the native black population. Living with this unjust and racist system from his childhood shapes what Coetzee writes about throughout his career and helps him to always balance the powerful and the marginalized in his space. It’s also why the committee made sure to point out how he finds countless ways to “[portray] the surprising involvement of the outsider”

Works

From The Death of Jesus

“You have a false understanding of what it means to read. Reading is not just turning printed signs into sounds. Reading is something deeper. True reading means hearing what the book has to say and pondering it— perhaps even having a conversation in your mind with the author. It means learning about the world— the world as it really is, not as you wish it to be.”

–2020

From “Youth”

 What is the point of coming all the way from Cape Town to London if he is to be quartered on a housing estate miles outside the city, getting up at the crack of dawn to measure the height of bean plants? He wants to join [the government], wants to find a use for the mathematics he has laboured over for years, but he also wants to go to poetry readings, meet writers and painters, have love affairs. How can he ever make the people [in the government office]—men in tweed jackets smoking pipes, women with stringy hair and owlish glasses—understand that? How can he bring out words like love, poetry before them?

Published in Granta (2017)
Illustration from New Yorker

From “The Better Player”

I have played sports (tennis, cricket), I have done a lot of cyccling, bit in all of this my aspiration has simply been to do as well as I can. Winning or losing–who cares? How I judge whether or not I have done well is a private matter, between myself and what I suppose I would call my conscience.

–Letter written to Paul Auster year 2009

Message

Literary criticism of Coetzee tends to emphasize a few things: the sparsity of his prose, a degree of absurdity in how plainly bizarre things are stated, and a degree of desperation and disaster that the protagonist uses as a source of strength. In that sense another quote from his letters to Auster stands out: both an elite tennis player and a great artist elicit a common response in Coetzee: “I can see how it was done, but I could never have done it myself, it is beyond me; yet it was done by a man (now and again a woman) like me; what an honor to belong to the species [he/she] exemplifies”. In a humanity marked by a quest for transcendency, Coetzee’s work highlights how beautiful and powerful our fleeting and daily thoughts and experiences can be. Whether it be watching a backhand, biking to the shops, parenting a stubborn child, or reacting to an author’s work, that is where the power of humanity comes.

Position: #11 Winger

The main work I read for this was The Death of Jesus. The book opens with a depiction of a young boy playing as a winger. While I doubt that Coetzee’s choice was personal, it does seem apropos for the author himself. Like a speedy winger charging towards goal, Coetzee is direct, driven and transparent in his objective. At times he fails (Death of Jesus often got overwhelmed by the religious allegory rather than the more engaging humanity of a flawed father–something I know quite well), but the failures seem to drive him and his characters to stand back up and do the same thing again. You likely know what Coetzee is up to, but he can still put it past you with ease. (As such, the player he reminds me of most is his fellow South African Bongokhule Hlongwane, though the team colors I applied here suit Emelec as Guyaquil feels more of a fit for the urbane Coetzee and more fitting for the Spanish medium of Death of Jesus).

One complication with all this, I am basing my interpretation on evidence from after Coetzee’s prize winning works were published. Have you read his other lauded work? Does it change your opinion to read Waiting for the Barbarians or Disgrace? Leave a comment below…please (seriously…someone is reading these, right?)

Next Time: 2023 Honoree–???

Nobel FC: William Golding

Nobel FC: William Golding

Background

A younger Golding

William Golding was born in 1911 and followed in his father’s footsteps to become a teacher. He was a youthful optimist who came to view the world more cynically following a tour of duty during the Second World War (“man produces evil as bees produce honey”). After the war he continued to write while teaching and ultimately published his first novel: Lord of the Flies (a book that has been thoroughly cemented on reading lists). He continued to publish, winning some recognition and awards for his other work, but always being marked apart for his first. In 1983 (my birth year) the Nobel committee gave him its award. They noted “his novels which, with the perspicuity of realistic narrative art and the diversity and universality of myth*, illuminate the human condition in the world of today”.

*I didn’t get this word choice until I read the following quote from Golding: “people always think that [mythic] means ‘full of lies’, whereas of course what it really means is ‘full of truth which cannot be told in any other way but a story’.”

Works

From: Lord of the Flies

“The sticks fell and the mouth of the new circle crunched and screamed. The beast was on its arms in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.”

–From Chapter 10: “View to a Death”

From: To The Ends of the Earth (adapted from Golding’s The Fire Below)

“Why are we such creatures as a few sentences of an angry man should matter more than the prospect of death”

From “Rough Magic” (in the collected essays A Moving Target)

“There is one behest to be engraved over the novelist’s door. Have one hand holding your pen and the other firmly on the nape of the reader’s neck. That is rule one, to which everything else must be sacrificed. Once you have got him, never let him go.”

Message

Golding is the first writer we’ve studied for this project who primarily worked in prose rather than poetry. Perhaps it’s that more direct nature that makes his belief that while everyone can imagine themselves as genteel or respectable, we are, all of us, marked out in our more vicious, cruel, and self-serving tendencies. He makes a habit of slashing and grasping at every opportunity, it’s his way of holding on to the reader’s attention. His habits are help him to attack the hypocrisy of assumed excellence, reveling instead in a dirty rotten humanity, many would rather ignore, while maintaining that there is still something to recommend in each of us. He’s not always easy to read with his penchant for violent and vile actions, but he does apply a deftly funny satirical style as well.

Position: #9 Striker

That aggressive message and style made it clear to me that Golding would be best suited to playing in the attack. But I wasn’t sure where he should play (scoring goals like a striker? causing havoc like a winger? crafting opportunities like a midfielder?). Ultimately the style and incisive message struck me first and foremost as a goal scorer. I also noted that the staying power of Lord of the Flies overshadowing the rest of Golding’s work brings to mind a good player who is always reminded of a single timely or artful strike. So, I opted to sign him up as our first number 9 goal scoring threat.

As an added bonus, Golding is the first laureate I’ve read about who has evidence to back up the positional claim. He was a strong sprinter and cricket team captain during his school days, which leaves me to think he actually would be well suited to playing at the top of the attack (sprinting and leading).

Perhaps I’m biased. Perhaps the presence of a teacher/writer/world-wide commentator and fan of Jane Austen skews my view. But by god, I like William Golding and I think he’d be a great striker. Argue with me below.

Next Time: 2003 Honoree–JM Coetzee

Nobel FC: Giorgios Seferis

Nobel FC: Giorgios Seferis

Background

The winner of the 1963 Nobel Prize in Literature, Giorgios Seferis was often a stranger in a strange land (not unlike the wandering heroes of Greek legend). From a childhood in Smyrna that was marked by a Greek invasion of the Ottoman empire, Seferis moved to France to study law and poetry, then back to Greece to help the government. When World War II broke out, Seferis helped the government in exile and then continued a long career as a diplomat around Europe. The award gave particular citation to ” his eminent lyrical writing, inspired by a deep feeling for the Hellenic world of culture” (Nobel Prize site)

Works

From: “Erotikos Logos Pt. V”

On the stone of patience we wait for the miracle
that opens the heavens and makes all things possible
we wait for the herald as in the ancient drama
at the moment when the open roses of twilight

disappear…Red rose of the wind and of fate,
you remained in memory only, a heavy rhythm
rose of the night, you passed, undulating purple
undulation of the sea…The world is simple

–1930

From: “The Light”

As the years go by
the judges who condemn you grow in number;
as the years go by and you converse with fewer voices,
you see the sun with different eyes:
you know that those who stayed behind were deceiving you
the delirium of flesh, the lovely dance
that ends in nakedness.

–1946

Message

I had never heard of Seferis before, I found him for this project. So it was kind of amazing when I found a collection of his poems from Edmund Keely and Phillip Sherrard that included this line: “”The distinguishing attribute of Seferis’ genius–one that he shares with Yeats and Eliot–has always been his ability to make out of local politics, out of personal history or mythology, some sort of general statement or metaphor.”

I mean, how amazingly convenient that Seferis shares a stylistic trait with the other two poets I wrote about this year.

Also, how…uh…underwhelming it made this feel.

It’s certainly not bad poetry. Believe me, I write bad poetry, this ain’t it. It’s just very familiar. Reading all these poems gave me a sense that Seferis has a sense of history that justifies the modern sensibility of somber doom. Lots of poets allude to mythology and history, but few of them have the personal and cultural connection that Seferis has. The examples I gave above capture that whatever we feel now, will fade and vanish. He’s able to bring that out in other poems by evoking forgotten Kings in tossed off lines of the Iliad, or empires that crumbled. I didn’t see as much of the “genius [or] personal history” use that Keely and Sherrard did, but the overriding general statement of our present as an echo of our past certainly came through.

Position:

Given that Seferis has some clear comparisons with Yeats and Eliot, it was easy to see him as a defender. The common perception of Greek football as extremely defensive didn’t hurt matters either. But for me, there was something that didn’t quite fit with Seferis being an outfield player. Certainly, outside backs can get a little wild and wander through things (just as Seferis wanders through centuries of Greek history) but to me, he seemed less like an outfield player and more of a goalkeeper. He seems to alternate between letting his mind wander and suddenly feeling an impending sense of doom…as I expect goalkeepers far removed from action often would. And given his fondness for mythology and closeness to the Mediterranean I thought he fit best as part of FK Vozdovac (hence the red and white shield provided here).

What do you think? Greek scholars, I’m looking particularly at you as I’m a little out of my depth here. Do you have a different view of Greek soccer than I do, please bring on the corrections!

Not to give too much away, but after all these defensive writers, I’m excited for the next one to shake things up a bit…

Next Time: 1983 Honoree–William Golding

Nobel FC: TS Eliot

Nobel FC: TS Eliot

Author’s note: So, a couple things. First, I said Eliot won the Nobel in 1943…he didn’t, nor did anyone else–it was cancelled due to the second World War. He won in 1948, which (secondly) has absolutely no connection to anything in my 20 year time frame for this project. So (thirdly) consider this just a random writing about an author, and we’ll let that be a problem for future Me, assuming that we’re still doing this in 5 years. And finally, I’m sorry that I misnumbered WB Yeats as a #3 (Left Back) when he’s more accurately numbered as a #4 (Centerback), the prior entry has been corrected to reflect this.

Background

Thomas Stearns Eliot won the Nobel Prize in literature for his poetry and drama in 1943. In its citation, the committee simply asserted that they wished to honor “his outstanding, pioneer contribution to present-day poetry”.

Eliot was part of that lost generation of writers, with big ideals and high hopes who found themselves resettled in Europe as adults, disenchanted with America’s failings. Like others, Eliot had come from a fairly well to do stock, enjoyed a rich education and built much of his work by alluding to and building on other well known works but in a rather startling method of slamming works together and building thematic meaning from the various images that emerge from it.

Works

From: “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of toast and tea

–1915
From the film adaptation of Murder in the Cathedral

From: “Murder in the Cathedral”

Yes! men must manoeuvre. Monarchs also,
Waging war abroad, need fast friends at home.
Private policy is public profit.
Dignity shall be dressed with decorum.

–1935

Your Opinion

I can’t always do it, but when it works out, I’ll share writings from our laureate. Eliot’s has an only moderately mature collection of poems titled Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. When we found a copy illustrated by Axel Schaeffer (the man behind drawings in beloved picture books The Gruffalo and Room on the Broom), it was clear that there was an opening to try it out with you.

The results: Alex: “It’s funny and good, and also I’m all done.” Owen. “No! Not that”

Message

There’s a lot lying within Eliot (including the ability to be both good and not at all enjoyable at once). There’s beautiful aching, and bitter realizing. There’s a subtle appreciation of the past and a slam-bang-crash of the uncertain future. There’s a willingness to see both sides of the coin, the arguments for and against and the awareness of complexity in all things. To put it in as direct a way as I can think of: all that is beautiful rises from and ends in destruction.

Position: #6

With a view that bleak, and a style that multi-faceted, Eliot seems to me well suited to a role in the middle of the field where he can both create art and cause chaos. There’s a position like that in modern soccer, one that is often mocked as dirty work or unpleasant, but also does something that no one else on the field does in the same way. It’s the defensive midfielder role, and while I certainly think that Eliot was much too cerebral to be an out and out beast, he certainly could keep up with a high level of play and obtain the respect that he clearly deserves. It calls to mind a player like Ozzie Alonso, who spent his time in Minnesota altering the level of play while never reaching a heroic ideal.

What do you think? Is Eliot more of an eight? Have I totally whiffed on my attempted analysis? Leave a comment below…please.

Next Time: 1963 Honoree–Giorgios Seferis

Nobel FC: WB Yeats

Nobel FC: WB Yeats

Background

William Butler Yeats won the Nobel Prize in literature for his poetry in 1923. The committee noted “his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation”. The nation in question was Ireland, but the from and expression in question is something else.

Yeats was a part of an artistic family and carried on the family business quickly. He adopted the style of the time in his early years. He celebrated all things artistic, beautiful, and emotional while studying and employing references to otherworldly and the occult. As he aged, and as the country around him became a hotbed, first for revolution and then sectarian violence, he left behind some of the more philosophical studies and became more physical and combative, but remained just as artistic.

Works

Renoir’s The Umbrella’s (whose Irish owner partly inspired “To a friend…”)

To a friend whose work has come to nothing

NOW all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours’ eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.

–1913
Jacob Wrestling with an Angel (by Gustave Dore)

The Four Ages of Man

He with body waged a fight,
But body won; it walks upright.

Then he struggled with the heart;
Innocence and peace depart.

Then he struggled with the mind;
His proud heart he left behind.

Now his wars on God begin;
At stroke of midnight God shall win.

–1934

Message

In poetry, every work deserves to be judged on its own accord and its own merits. No poet adopts a single perspective or message, but their style often evokes a common trend. So it is with Yeats.

These works do a very good job of capturing the idea that one must be ever ready. It’s an aggressive defensiveness, and a robust reaction to the challenges of life. You should expect to face difficulty, and you should prepare to fight through it.

Position: #4

Yeats strikes me as a center back, but not your typical stout and serious center back. He’s more overeager, like someone who played striker as a kid, but kept being moved back on the pitch as they grew older. Now their job is to stop attacks, but they still yearn to be set loose at the spear of the attack. As time goes on he grows more blunt and aggressive than before. In short he’s both more physical than he needs to be and a little more confident in attack than he ought to be. It makes him a dangerous defender (both to the opponent and to his own side).

What do you think? Should Yeats end up somewhere else on the field? Did I critically misunderstand his style? Leave a comment below.

Next Time: 1943 Honoree TS Eliot

Nobel FC: Introduction

Nobel FC: Introduction

It is my habit to take on foolish and ill advised ideas blending things I love. It’s why there’s a collage of Economist covers in my classroom, and why I use my old baseball card collection as bookmarks.

That’s my way of introducing a new and extremely niche idea of sharing lessons that connect classic literature to football and football to classic literature.

Here’s how it will work: I’ll read some of the works of a writer who has won the Nobel Prize in Literature (it may seem arbitrary, but it’s a short hand of world-wide writers who inspire people the same way soccer stars can).

We’ll meet the writer and see what connection–if any–they have to soccer

We’ll look at one or two of their famous pieces and write a bit about their lessons and themes.

We’ll connect the themes from the work to our lives and to the things we’ve been seeing on the pitch.

And finally we’ll slot the writer into a spot on the pitch 1-Goalkeeper to 11-Striker to create a silly little team (possibly even with photoshop if I can figure it out). Hopefully we’ll see enough to create a full squad (maybe more given the long history of the award).

For now I’m just aiming to do this six times a year (writing about the winners 100, 80, 60, 40, and 20 years ago, as well as this year’s honoree when they are announced in October). If time allows I’ll work on the ones from before 100 years ago, but I’m trying to do a lot of writing and reading, so let’s just settle down our expectations eh?

I’ll drop our first installment on the first of March.

45. On Pain and Going Home

45. On Pain and Going Home

Dear Boys,

If you boys end up sports fans, especially sports fans like me, you are going to have some hard defeats to swallow. The Vikings Wide Right? Sid Bream scoring from first on Barry Bonds? Basically any Yankees-Twins game?

But more than almost any other, when I think about the hardest losses, I think back to a match I watched on a warm, dark, night, with a plate of jollof rice, a roasted tilapia, a wine cooler, and a bunch of new friends.

I think about the “New Hand of God”, the last chance for “the hope of Africa”, I think about Luis Suarez v. Ghana in 2010.

Always an Ant. Love WASS

I had spent a month interviewing young Ghanaian student/actors about their sense of national identity and teaching Literature and Composition classes at a local high school ( “Playing the Part” pub. 2011 Bowling Green State University). At night, I’d call your mother, then my fiancee, and transcribe interviews while watching matches from the World Cup in South Africa.

A few days before, the US had been bested by Ghana…again. I’d been roundly jeered and jostled by every Ghanaian I lived near, worked with, and taught. By the next match, Friday, July 2nd, we were all friends again, and I was taking the night off from interviews to talk to the love of my life and watch the Black Stars.

It was…horrible. First there was the lead, the baffling long-distance strike from Sully Muntari. Then the anxious despair to stop any goals from the talented tandem of Diego Forlan and Luis Suarez. When Forlan equalized it seemed to doom us all. But the Ghanaians grew into the match, asserting themselves again and pushing on. When John Pantsil lined up the free kick it felt inevitable, and to see Stephen Appiah and Dominic Adiyiyah pounce, we were bubbling to burst into cheers.

Then…disbelief. Agony. Anger. Defeat. Suarez had stopped a clear goal with his hand. It was unfair, unjust, unbelievable. Instead of celebrating a hard fought but well earned victory, it was back to the penalty spot for baby striker, Asamoah Gyan.

I think it was Adama, my host teacher, pacing in front of the bar, who said, “no, no…not Gyan…he’s too excited-oh…”. And then…a clanging crossbar, an obviously agonizing penalty kick defeat, and a long, echoing, bitter silence. A painful feeling in a place that was so often music, and noise, and joy to see you.

That was a hard loss. It wasn’t just clearly hard for the players, or hard for me as a fan, it was hard because one whole nation, and so many more across the continent felt it. But, as with all things, it comes with a lesson.

We are marked by our pain, both in scars and in strength.

10 years on from that there’s been a recent spate of writing about the loss and the team that suffered it. But the story that comes to mind the most, is Homegoing , the American Book Award winning novel that has nothing to do with soccer, and everything to do with pain.

The book chronicles two families carrying the long legacy of trauma and tragedy from the golden coast of Ghana all the way to Stanford University and back again. It is beautiful, heartbreaking, and important.

Soccer isn’t that important.

Certainly a match ten years ago is nothing next to generations of stories and legends. However, there’s something about Homegoing that reminds us of the strength that comes with struggle. That through pain and degradation and angst come both our fears and concerns, as well as our strength and ability.

Asamoah Gyan went home last week. He’s said to have watched the match, and his failure at the spot dozens of times. It hurts me as a passive observer to watch it, and Gyan…it hurts him more.

I wish the match could happen again because it really hurts me every time when I’m alone. It’s something that I can never forget. I watch it over and over and over again and hope one day I can turn things around and make people happy.

–Asamoah Gyan (2014)
Baby Jet’s Return (Legon Cities FC)

But that’s the thing. The memory hurts (he stopped taking penalties for the team shortly afterward) but it also encouraged him to set a goal, a goal he’s chasing now in Legon. A goal he’s chasing down the street from where I watched him miss, from where that echoing silence seemed to bury us.

It may have scarred Asamoah Gyan, but it also strengthened him. I hope your most painful moments do the same.