Jose Echegaray might have been the smartest person we’ve read about yet. He seems to have been able to do pretty much everything. He read classics by age 12, was an engineer, a diplomat, taught himself German so he could read philosophy treatises and was working on massive Mathematics textbooks when he passed away. Throughout that whole time he was also a writer, specifically of plays which many likened to an Iberian Ibsen*. He shared the 1904 honor with Frederic Mistral, but was honored for his unique works, including “the numerous and brilliant compositions which, in an individual and original manner, have revived the great traditions of the Spanish drama”
*Not to be confused with an Iberian Ibson, which would make them a Spanish substitute for local Minnesota legendary midfielder Ibson.
Works
Echegaray’s works are all high level 19th century melodrama, and were ideal for the early days of cinema (though mostly in Spain only). But he had a keen ear for conversations and confusions between characters, as shown in the piece I read for this project: Son of Don Juan.
Don Juan: What are you thinking of? Ah! Pardon! I must not disturb you. Lazarus: You don’t disturb me father. I was thinking of nothing important. My imagination was wandering, and I was wandering after it. Don Juan: If you wish to work–to write–to read–and I trouble you I shall go. Ha. I shall go….Do you want me to go? for here I am…going.
Son of Don Juan, Act II aka You kids dealing with me in 10 years.
Message
Echegaray’s style is…a bit much for a modern reader. He seems to have a penchant for melodrama in that, he wrote a bunch of melodramas. In the modern age, melodrama is a bit silly, a bit farcical and a bit easy to dismiss, but for a long time that was the style, and Echegaray did it better than almost anyone. For someone as immersed in complicated high brow pursuits as Echegaray clearly was it is apparent that he was, at the root of it all someone who had no shame in his feelings. It’s good to have big feelings.
Position: #11 Winger
Echegaray certainly seems to have been a thoroughly talented master of all trades, it would make him an excellent attacker who can link with other players, but the melodramatic tendencies make him also a prime candidate for Nobel FC’s resident flopper. I just picture someone touching his monocle chain and leaving Echegaray writhing in mid-air like a final tongue of smoke leaving a doused fire. While he was a life long Madrista, I have him in Oaxaca’s colors, as their flair for the dramatic look seems best for our purposes.
Am I too harsh on Echegaray? Do you think he belongs elsewhere, or at least would have been more of an engineer constructing things than a ham emoting all over the place?
Born to a long line of passionate defenders of Provence in southern France, Mistral retained his devotion to his homeland even while nations rose and France, the French language, and Parisian culture overwhelmed the pastoral south. Though he often ran away from school in his childhood, he found a love of learning and especially his local language. Eventually his commitment to writing in and raising awareness of the Provencal dialect earned this award from the Swedish Academy: “in recognition of the fresh originality and true inspiration of his poetic production, which faithfully reflects the natural scenery and native spirit of his people, and, in addition, his significant work as a Provençal philologist”
Works
Mistral’s poetry is fairly wide ranging, but the most recognized works are some long form narrative poems. In that spirit I read his most widely known work Mireio. It tells the story of a simple young love story in pastoral Provence, but also manages to weave in harvest song, murders, sea monsters, and family strife. Naturally, it was made into an Opera.
Production of Mirelle (From Phil’s Opera World)
“We’d climb the turret-stair, my prince and I, And gladly throw the crown and mantle by, And would it not be blissful with my love, Aloft, alone to sit, the world above? Or leaned upon the parapet by his side, To search the lovely landscape far and wide,
“Our own glad kingdom of Provence descrying, Like some great orange-grove beneath us lying All fair? And, ever stretching dreamily Beyond the hills and plains, the sapphire sea; While noble ships, tricked out with streamers gay, Just graze the Chateau d’If, and pass away?”
From Canto III of Mistral’s Mireio
Message
Mistral seems bound and determined to challenge the assumptions of the powerful. Parents want to control their kids, but the kids might be right. The Parisian upper crust might sneer and the peasant folk, but the peasant folk have as much poetry and artistry as the hoity toity. Also, Provence is great…but that’s less a literary theme and more just his personal mantra.
Position: #2 Right Back
Granted, as our first French writer honored, I may be leaning on my adoration of the Grenoble defense and their stalwart ways, but Mistral also seems to have a truly daring instinct, a flair for the dramatic and the dangerous. At times it makes his return to more standard romantic fare deeply disappointing. In that way I kept picturing him running head long down the sideline twisting up defenders and playing gorgeous passes, only to suddenly remember he also had to defend and being forced to haul buns back to defense. Maybe there’s some deep running connection to Mathys Tourraine I don’t yet know about.
Mistral might be my new favorite discovery of this project. I’d go so far as to say I’d rather cover Mireo than Romeo and Juliet with students, and I’d rather have the chaotic joy of Mistral on the wing than sturdy solidity in defense. Am I nuts? Hit up the comment section below and state your case.
Next Time, the Nobel couldn’t make up their mind so we’ll do this again with the other 1904 Honoree–Jose Echegaray
The time has come again, to crown this year’s winner of the MacKenzie Cup (it’s a sippy cup…because you’re little kids, and I like the joke)
Final Standings
Team
W
D
L
PPG
GFA
GAA
Montana
13
3
3
2.21
1.58
0.47
Rosenborg
36
12
21
1.74
1.84
1.17
Minnesota
28
13
16
1.70
2.16
1.30
Grenoble
35
12
22
1.63
1.47
0.99
Punjab
13
8
11
1.47
1.50
1.06
Emelec
18
17
15
1.42
2.02
0.96
Legon Cities
16
10
15
1.41
1.15
1.27
Freiburg
26
13
31
1.30
1.41
1.64
Ross County
14
10
21
1.16
1.33
1.53
Vozdovac
10
10
15
1.14
1.03
1.25
Alebrijes
8
9
15
1.03
1.25
1.84
Table Updated 12/30/23 b–Team is between seasons
None of our favorite teams won any hardware this year, but while no one hit the heights of last year, there was some impressive consistency up and down the table. Again the Grizzlies take the cup, meaning this hallowed chalice firmly belongs to northern teams with incredible women’s sides (that’s your cue Aurora).
Beyond what has become a fairly familiar top three, Grenoble emerged with strong showings from both men and women to claim fourth place while Punjab rounded out the top half of the table thanks to their dominance of the I-League (giving up the lead in the table after the jumped up to the bigger pond of the Superleague)
Emelec is our pivot team this year, smack dab in the center as befits a year with both some great moments, and some lousy ones. They’re followed by the frustratingly incosistent Legon Cities and Freiburg (whose great fall of 2022 faded hard and fast in 2023).
At the foot of the table, Ross County could not find any confidence in their campaigns, barely squeaking their way through matches to keep themselves afloat in Scotland. Vozdovac continues to show good runs to start the year and difficulties keeping up at the end of it. But Alebrijes’ scuffles and eventual collapse out of the playoffs earned them their second wooden spoon in our history.
Beyond the great showings of the clubs in general this year, we have to point out that our favorite teams won four trophies this year! The I-League trophy made Roundglass Punjab the first team to be promoted a division on our watch, but the Electricas win in the Campeonato Regional gave them a good chance too. And the most consistently strong sides: the Griz and the Trolljenta each took home hardware, though not as much as they might have hoped (Montana won the league, but not the tournament…ending their season early, Rosenborg lost the league, but won the cup…ending their season in confetti).
Players of the Year
We saw a lot of turnover among our best XI line up. But that’s to be expected when five starters play well enough to be transferred to other teams and bigger salaries, and three players graduate from their club/school teams. But while plenty of things change, one thing that stays inviolable is Vincenzo Grifo. There’s the sun in the morning, the moon at night, and Vincenzo Grifo putting in a shift in between.
Around Grifo we’re bringing in an all American-based midfield, with Cat Rapp pairing for the attack and Delaney Lou Schorr is taking on the wing position which I will still refer to as the Julie-Blakstad-Endowed-Chair for Wingers. Finally we’re adding in the player who has brought out a new found love and interest for both Alex and Owen, Bongokhule Hlongwane who paired a great year on the field with infectious positivity off of it.
That attack will be targeting goal machines Maya Hansen and Luka Macjen, two new comers who helped their teams to epic unbeaten runs. And they’ll be backed up behind them with some aggressive wingbacks in Mathys Tourraine of Grenoble and Ava Samuelson of Montana.
The defensive anchors are Nicholas Mensah for Legon Cities who helped to keep the Royals in plenty of games they might have otherwise capitulated for, Sarah Horte who paired a great league season with a strong showing at the women’s World Cup, and old stand by Pedro Ortiz of Emelec, who kept the most clean sheets in an otherwise unheralded campaign.
We had so much attacking depth that we have several players out of position on our bench, Janina Minge of Freiburg and Borisav Burmaz of Vozdovac are strictly up top players, but Cinthia Bone of Emelec, and Jayden Nelson of Rosenborg are being played as flexible wingers who can sub in for any of the outside players.
Grenoble puts two players on our midfield bench with Jade Decilap and Jessy Bennet earning the nods, and while Ernesto Reyes gets the obligatory spot for Alebrijes, we were left with just one defensive spot on the bench, so with apologies to Tianna Harris and Michael Boxall, we went with Anna Josensdal of Rosenborg (again a defensive midfielder being asked to play out of position). Finally, our reserve keeper is the only Ross County player to make the squad this year in Ross Laidlaw (the penalty saves Ross, we are eternally in your debt)
Nobel FC Most Enjoyable Outstanding Writer
A new award (the MEOW, as our house of cat lovers should appreciate) this year will go to the Nobel FC subject that I rated most highly. This year, I’m giving the nod to William Golding, whose work was familiar, but whose breadth of creativity was truly impressive. In addition to this award, I bought another of his books to read in the new year.
What’s Next
Less will be more this next year. I will write one essay a month (as ever), I will write one club news recap a month (though that’s already been tested), and one Nobel FC every two months.
I will say what I have said seemingly every post this year: if you have any thoughts I would love to hear them. (The highlight of this year is definitely the excellent journalist Manny Djazmi tweeting a link to this blog.) This is a project for my sons, the oldest of whom is now sounding out simple sentences and easy readers, but it will still be a while before they can read all this. So if you ARE reading this, then please: comment below and let’s share ideas.
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).
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
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
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)
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?)
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.
In the preparation work for the Nobel XI writing experiment, I read a book by prize winner JM Coetzee where the South African writes about an unfair soccer match.
For context, a rag tag group of local boys, including protagonist David, is groomed to play against a local team with more resources (a group from a do-gooding orphanage). When the local boys are summarily drubbed by the orphans, David’s guardian storms on to the field and denounces the orphans and their teacher.
“This is not a football game, this is a slaughter of the innocents…They are bullies. They win by intimidating their opponents…If you really want to test your team, Senor, you should play against stronger opponents.”
JM Coetzee The Death of Jesus
That same despair of unfair treatment occurs in a few other spheres of our Soccer fandom, and with surprising frequency in the women’s game.
In the USL-W Heartland, Minnesota Aurora is patently the dominant force. The biggest market, the biggest ownership base, the most accomplished players leading to consecutive unbeaten seasons and local conference titles. To our rivals in Chicago, Green Bay and Kenosha, our lovable little Aurora is the biggest bully on the playground.
Dear Boys,
At the same time, half-way around the world, the Women’s World Cup has kicked off with its largest ever field. It will feature teams from 32 nations in action (the same as the men’s, though for less prize money). There’s been some celebration about the growth of the game, but there’s also been a lot of handwringing and cogitating about the lack of quality that comes with expanding the tournament. Many expect big sides like Sweden, Norway, England, France, and (of course) the United States to win, the only question is by how much.
To paraphrase the concern as voiced on a recent World Football by our one-time reader Mani Djazmi: these uncompetitive games can turn off viewers. People will know what will probably happen and therefore won’t watch until later rounds when a few true contenders are left standing. This will lead to lower ratings which leads to lower revenue which leads to a lower perceived value for the women’s game.
Better then to have the best teams play the best teams, and leave potential punching bags like New Zealand and Haiti, Zambia and Vietnam out of it.
But to me disliking the bully or wincing at blow outs is only one view of the situation.
Rather than viewing it as bullies and blowouts creating hurt feelings and lost value, what if we re-center around the perspective of those teams who are out on the field.
The teams who face Aurora might well be frustrated not to be winning trophies, but they are (like Aurora) largely college and High School kids who want to get better. Who are there most of all, to learn. They get a chance to spend a few summer weeks as semi-professional athletes with big crowd and televised matches and newly built friendships.
Batcheba Louis and Alex Greenwood in action
The teams who are on the field are stepping up to a challenge. We could continue to focus on the teams that are likely going to win, but we could also set that aside and talk about how great it is to see a team like Nicholas Delpine’s Haiti stepping up to a challenge. Connecting women from a global diaspora to support their home country, learn, and grow.
Sports, and soccer in particular, isn’t just about who won and who lost. It’s about after the final whistle too.
If you boil it down to the end result then, yes, you don’t need to report much on Haiti because they don’t have much of a chance. But by that same logic, since the vast majority of teams around the world aren’t getting hardware this year, we probably could write about only two-three clubs in every country and ignore the rest. It’s the theory of the Superleague all over again, but more well-intentioned than that ill-begotten cash grab.
But if you consider what comes after the final whistle, then it’s not about who won or lost. It’s not even about why they won or lost. It’s about how teams learn from what they experience.
You can learn by doing like having success against the greatest opponents. But success need not be defined by winning: Sherly Jeudy set up some solid chances for her teammates in Haiti’s game against England. Those are great, and, knowing Sherly, she’ll look for ways to make them better.
And you can learn by seeing: there’s no shortage of great examples in your opponents. Whether you faced off against Tianna Harris or Cat Rapp, you can learn from what they did. After all, they aren’t your enemies, they’re just your opposition.
If it seems like your team doesn’t learn anything after these lopsided games, then you have learned one thing: you need a new coach.
And in addition to all those fuzzier outcomes, occasionally surprises and upsets happen and we’re all better for it (to wit the long standing giants in Norway getting beaten by New Zealand in the league opener, or the team that matched Aurora last year failing to make the playoffs this year).
In reality, everyone, every day, can only control two things: their actions, and their attitude.
The risks of blow out games (whether to goliaths of women’s soccer or a fictional team of orphans) may appear great. The actions of your beloved side may not match your opponents. But ultimately your attitude affects how you respond, and how you learn from the experience.
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…
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