London time travel

Sometimes web surfing serendipity ticks all of the boxes. Regular readers are au fait with my life-long love of cartography, my near obsession with historic travel guides, and my background as an erstwhile history teacher, so you won’t be too surprised that this website is in my wheelhouse.

The Charles Dickens Page allows you to view a number of bird’s eye views of London neighborhoods, as captured by Thomas Sulman in the 1880’s. These maps were originally published in 1886, in a London guidebook by Herbert Fry.

The maps on the Charles Dickens page include some interactive place-name labels, which can be clicked on to learn more about the most important buildings and streets displayed. Some of the maps have also been digitally altered to enhance certain features and to ‘align the images with Dickens’ lifetime’.
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Travel Trash

Lately, I’ve been reading travelers’ tales about the difficulty in locating someplace to drop-off trash and recycling while visiting Japan. So, I found this short piece by writer and long-time Japan resident Craig Mod on our cultural impulse to immediately discard the trash we generate illuminating. In Japan, there are few rubbish bins, which encourages individuals to take responsibility for their waste instead of abandoning it. Perhaps owning your garbage promotes a healthier relationship with consumption? “This obsession with the immediate ‘unburdening’ of a thing you created is common in non-Japanese contexts, but I posit: The Japanese way is the correct way. Be an adult. Own your garbage. Garbage responsibility is something we’ve long since abdicated not only to faceless cans on street corners (or just all over the street, as seems to be the case in Manhattan or Paris), but also faceless developing countries around the world.”

 

 

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Fugue State

Death Fugue

by Paul Celan

Black milk of morning we drink you evenings
we drink you at noon and mornings we drink you at night
we drink and we drink
A man lives in the house he plays with the snakes he writes
he writes when it darkens to Deutschland your golden hair Margarete
he writes and steps in front of his house and the stars glisten and he whistles his dogs to come
he whistles his jews to appear let a grave be dug in the earth
he commands us play up for the dance

Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you mornings and noontime we drink you evenings
we drink and we drink
A man lives in the house he plays with the snakes he writes
he writes when it turns dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margarete
Your ashen hair Shulamit we dig a grave in the air there one lies at ease

He calls jab deeper into the earth you there and you other men sing and play
he grabs the gun in his belt he draws it his eyes are blue
jab deeper your spades you there and you other men continue to play for the dance

Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you at noon we drink you evenings
we drink you and drink
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamit he plays with the snakes

He calls out play death more sweetly death is a master from Deutschland
he calls scrape those fiddles more darkly then as smoke you’ll rise in the air
then you’ll have a grave in the clouds there you’ll lie at ease

Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death is a master from Deutschland
we drink you evenings and mornings we drink and drink
death is a master from Deutschland his eye is blue
he strikes you with lead bullets his aim is true
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
he sets his dogs on us he gifts us a grave in the air
he plays with the snakes and dreams death is a master from Deutschland

your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamit

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An OG Luigi

“Conscience”

by

Italo Calvino

translated by Tim Parks


Came a war and a guy called Luigi asked if he could go, as a volunteer.

Everyone was full of praise. Luigi went to the place where they were handing out the rifles, took one and said: ‘Now I’m going to go and kill a guy called Alberto.’

They asked him who Alberto was.

‘An enemy,’ he answered, ‘an enemy of mine.’

They explained to him that he was supposed to be killing enemies of a certain type, not whoever he felt like.

‘So?’ said Luigi. ‘You think I’m dumb? This Alberto is precisely that type, one of them. When I heard you were going to war against that lot, I thought: I’ll go too, that way I can kill Alberto. That’s why I came. I know that Alberto: he’s a crook. He betrayed me, for next to nothing he made me make a fool of myself with a woman. It’s an old story. If you don’t believe me, I’ll tell you the whole thing.’

They said fine, it was okay.

‘Right then,’ said Luigi, ‘tell me where Alberto is and I’ll go there and I’ll fight.’

They said they didn’t know.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Luigi said. ‘I’ll find someone to tell me. Sooner or later I’ll catch up with him.’

They said he couldn’t do that, he had to go and fight where they sent him, and kill whoever happened to be there. They didn’t know anything about this Alberto.

‘You see,’ Luigi insisted, ‘I really will have to tell you the story. Because that guy is a real crook and you’re doing the right thing going to fight against him.’

But the others didn’t want to know.

Luigi couldn’t see reason: ‘Sorry, it may be all the same to you if I kill one enemy or another, but I’d be upset if I killed someone who had nothing to do with Alberto.’

The others lost their patience. One of them gave him a good talking to and explained what war was all about and how you couldn’t go and kill the particular enemy you wanted to.

Luigi shrugged. ‘If that’s how it is,’ he said, ‘you can count me out.’

‘You’re in and you’re staying in,’ they shouted.

‘Forward march, one-two, one-two!’ And they sent him off to war.

Luigi wasn’t happy. He’d kill people, offhand, just to see if he might get Alberto, or one of his family. They gave him a medal for every enemy he killed, but he wasn’t happy. ‘If I don’t kill Alberto,’ he thought, ‘I’ll have killed a load of people for nothing.’ And he felt bad.

Meantime they were giving him one medal after another, silver, gold, everything.

Luigi thought: ‘Kill some today, kill some tomorrow, there’ll be less of them, that crook’s turn is bound to come.’

But the enemy surrendered before Luigi could find Alberto. He felt bad he’d killed so many people for nothing, and since they were at peace now he put all his medals in a bag and went around enemy country giving them away to the wives and children of the dead.

Going around like this, he ran into Alberto.

‘Good,’ he said, ‘better late than never,’ and he killed him.

That was when they arrested him, tried him for murder and hanged him. At the trial he said over and over that he had done it to settle his conscience, but nobody listened to him.

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Your Final Exam

A poem by Wislawa Szymborska.

 

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“Tell all the truth but tell it slant”

“Tell all the truth but tell it slant”

-Emily Dickinson

 

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Not your typical cat videos

National Geographic wildlife photographer and filmmaker, Iwago Mitsuaki, presents a charming collection of cat footage from diverse locations around Japan. On this unique trip he discovers the lesser-known charms and customs of regions through the eyes of cats.

The selection of short videos can be viewed here or on the NHK World YouTube Channel.

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Sentimental Souvenirs of the Past

 

 

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Not All Bad

Many, if not most, air travelers seem to agree that airline food could be improved. In fact, I’ve met few flyers who actually enjoy the meals served by most airlines. Of course the exception may be those who are fortunate enough to fly First Class. Still, most of us like to compare our in-flight meal experiences, even if it’s just to grouse about them.

The website Airline Meals  is your ticket to the world’s first and largest online photo archive of inflight meals. The site hosts an enormous catalog of airlines and their food service options. It also has some quite interesting information of airline amenity kits and even airline advertising.

 

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One reader can make a difference

The Ursula K. Le Guin Prize for Fiction, now in its fourth year, is an annual $25,000 cash prize given to a writer for a single work of imaginative fiction. The award recognizes writers Ursula spoke of in her 2014 National Book Awards speech–the “realists of a larger reality” who can imagine real grounds for hope and see alternatives to how we live now.

The prize nomination process is open to all–and depends on the quality and diversity of nominations from readers. From March 1 through 31st, readers, authors, booksellers, publishers, librarians–and any and everyone else–are invited to nominate work that reflects the concepts and ideas that were central to Ursula’s own work, including: hope, equity, and freedom; non-violence and alternatives to conflict; and a holistic view of humanity’s place in the natural world.

Nominated books should be written by a single author; published in English or in translation to English for the first time in the U.S. between April 1st and December 31st, 2024; and be available through multiple U.S. retail channels.

This year’s recipient will be selected by authors Matt Bell, Indra Das, Kelly Link, Sequoia Nagamatsu, and Rebecca Roanhorse. Click here to see the criteria for this year’s prize and nominate a book!

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