Return to Serra da Estrela

Serra da Estrela, the highest mountains in Portugal, were always special to me, ever since I was a child and we would go there on Christmas time from my grandparents' home, which was not far. I loved the snow and the big granite boulders, the daytrips we took there were somewhat magical and different from our daily lives.

I went back a few times as a teenager, and later had a wonderful holiday there in the winter of 1989 with my girlfriend and a couple of good college friends - I remember driving towards the Torre (the highest point) through the mist and snow, a beautiful Narnian landscape.

I hadn't been back since then, and now I went back for a weekend in Manteigas with my family. And the feeling has remained the same, even if it was late summer and not winter, and the mountain was dry after a rainless summer. I always loved that rough summer landscape of granite boulders, brown and golden hills dotted with small dry green bushes, so reminiscent of my childhood summers at my grandparents' - playing cowboys and Indians with my sisters and cousins, stepping over a wild vipers' nest and running away, enjoying a respite from the dry heat under the rare tree.

The guesthouse near Manteigas had a splendid view over the glacial valley of the Zêzere river, and from there we hiked along the Wildboar route - no wildboars in sight, but a beautiful 11 km hike from the chestnut trees in the valley to the arid granitic boulders and back amid tall pine trees.

The next day we had a beautiful drive across the mountain, stopping here and there to enjoy the views and to have lunch at Sabugueiro, a village where I had stayed in that 1989 trip, now full of tourist shops along the main road, but keeping its old centre with the granite church and courtyards just the same as in centuries.

In between hikes and drives, we ate a lot of the wonderful regional food - lots of great cheese, grilled meat, chanfana (a very tasty goat stew) and pumpkin jam.

All in all, it was a great weekend, not only beautiful landscapes, tasty food and nostalgic hikes, but also great family time together.

Sowing - an autobiography of the years 1880 to 1904, by Leonard Woolf

So, after reading the beautiful collection of Virginia Woolf's memoirs, Moments of Being, I ordered the first volume of Leonard Woolf's autobiography, and am mighty glad I did. It's very well written, in a style totally different from his wife's or Strachey's, very controlled and matter-of-factly, but pleasant to read, especially for the content. Leonard Woolf comes up as an extremely sensible and intelligent man - and he must have been also extremely patient, because I'm sure Virginia was not an easy person to live with - and one can understand how he fit so well in the Bloomsbury group, not being an artist himself, and was able to form such a stable and long partnership with the genius Virginia was.

I particularly liked his account of his Cambridge days, of the group of friends under the influence of G.E. Moore that were the roots of the Bloomsbury group - the blooming would come later, once the Stephen sisters were added to the group. They still represent for me the fascinating transition from 19th to 20th century civilization, the beginning of the Modern Age I so admired.

Looking forward to read the other volumes.


The facade tends with most people, I suppose, as the years go by, to grow inward so that what began as a protection and screen of the naked soul becomes itself the soul. This is part of that gradual loss of individuality which happens to nearly everyone and the hardening of the arteries of the mind which is even more common and more deadly than of those of the body. [...] I suspect that the male carapace is usually grown to conceal cowardice. [...] It was the fear of ridicule or disapproval if one revealed one's real thoughts or feelings, and sometimes the fear of revealing one's fears, that prompted one to invent that kind of second-hand version of oneself which might provide for one's original self the safety of a permanent alibi.

But when I was a young man, Karl Marx and the Russian communists had not yet invented the international political lunatic asylum of twentieth century communism in which intelligent people can, in the name of humanity, satisfy animosities and salve their consciences.

It is true that in a sense "we had no respect for traditional wisdom" and that, as Ludwig Wittgenstein complained, "we lacked reverence for everything and everyone." If "to revere" means, as the dictionary says, "to regard as sacred or exalted, to hold in religious respect", then we did not revere, we had no reverence for anything or anyone, and, so far as I am concerned, I think we were completely right; I remain of the same opinion still - I think it to be, not merely my right, but my duty to question the truth of everything and the authority of everyone, to regard nothing as sacred and to hold nothing in religious respect. That attitude was encouraged by the climate of scepticism and revolt into which we were born and by Moore's ingenuous passion for truth. The dictionary, however, gives an alternative meaning for the word "revere"; it may mean "to regard with deep respect and warm approbation." It is not true that we lacked reverence for everything and everyone in that sense of the word. After questioning the truth and utility of everything and after refusing to accept or swallow anything or anyone on the mere "authority" of anyone, in fact after exercising our own judgement, there were many things and persons regarded by us with "deep respect and warm approbation": truth, beauty, works of art, some customs, friendship, love, many living men and women and many of the dead.

One loves and hates one's family just as - one knows and they know - one is loved and hated by them. Most people are both proud and ashamed of their families [...] There is therefore a bitterness and ambivalence in these loyalties.

Maddaddam, by Margaret Atwood

I loved the whole MaddAddam trilogy by Margaret Atwood, it's extremely well written and eerily real. The first two volumes were so exceptionally good I naturally had great expectations regarding the third. They were half met - it's still a very good book, but I felt a little uncomfortable with some of the developments, like the communication between the Crakers and the Pigoons, that seemed to me, unlike most of the other issues in the books, not grounded on science and so not that believable. Also, Zeb's story was not nearly as interesting as Toby's, Ren's or Jimmy's. Even so, it's a great book, and I highly recommend it.

O Sistema Periódico, de Primo Levi

A very interesting book; Primo Levi writes about previous life experiences from the perspective a a chemical scientist, his occupation before writing full time. The book consists in a series of independent texts, in chronological order, each named after a chemical element. It's an ingenious way to organise a memoir, and he succeeds beautifully. His writing is somewhat austere but always pleasant, and his musings are insightful and intelligent. Through his stories, one becomes acquainted with the situation in Italy during fascism, WWII and the post-war period, not only regarding the Jewish question. And he has the inestimable capacity to turn his reminiscences and reflections about himself and his experiences into a general musing about life in general; this capacity of universalising their experiences and thoughts is the true mark of a great writer.

The Master Algorithm, by Pedro Domingos

This is a most interesting book about a fascinating subject - machine learning. It really helps you to understand the brave new world we live in. I admit I haven't understood all the details, my mind works in a gestalt way, and I couldn't really picture some of the concepts depicted in the book, But even so, the basics are extremely well explained, and I learned a lot. The writing is very good, the author reveals a remarkable culture and knows how to explain scientific stuff to lay people. A very enjoyable and informative book.

Moments of Being, by Virginia Woolf

I wonder why I hadn't read this wonderful book yet, being such a fan of Virginia Woolf and Bloomsbury. Which was fine, since I could have the unspoiled pleasure of reading it now for the first time. What a joy, after so many biographies of Bloomsberries, diaries of Frances Partridge and such, to read the real thing, the exquisite prose of Virginia Woolf herself, so much better than all the rest! This book is a posthumous collection of autobiographical essays written at different points of her life, which, besides the quality of each one, allows us to see how her writing evolved and changed over the years.

Reminiscences is clearly a youth piece, still very conventional and ladylike, but with clear signs of the immense talent and originality waiting to explode. A Sketch of the Past, written when she was a mature and accomplished writer, is amazing, as Old Bloomsbury, one of the three texts written to be read at the Memoir Club, the one that most perfectly depicts what Bloomsbury was and why it was such a groundbreaking movement. 22 Hyde Park Gate and Am I a Snob? are the other two pieces, perfect examples of her wit and inimitable style. What a pity depression got her at 60, when she was still so aware and productive, how many wonderful texts she could have written.

The Year of the Flood, by Margaret Atwood

This is the second book of the MaddAddam trilogy, and it's as good - and scary - as the first. Margaret Atwood really has a knock for the dystopian, she creates them believable and plausible. And her characters show a thorough understanding of human nature. Excellent.

En finir avec Eddy Bellegueule, by Édouard Louis

What a wonderful, powerful book! I finished literally bouleversé. It's really remarkable - the writing is superb, beautiful even when depicting the most terrible events, never patronizing or romanticizing what and the author writes about. It's an implacable depiction of a mostly forgotten world, and extremely insightful and useful to understand the Le Pen phenomenon in France - and probably similar phenomena in other Western countries. It's very much about politics, and yet it keeps also to the personal view from an individual, whose personality and experience makes him question and face that world. The character of Eddy and his surroundings manages to be totally believable - and moving - never being didactic, and that's how a political novel should be. And how impressive to think Édouard Louis wrote this in his early twenties. I searched him online and read his excellent interview to the Paris Review; he's extremely articulate and to the point, and I think his will be a voice to listen to attentively in the future.

(Once more, I'm so grateful to Garth Greenwell for the suggestion!)

My Cat Yugoslavia, by Pajtim Statovci

This is a very good book, especially considering it's a debut novel. Beautifully written, moving, tender and strong, about being a refugee (first and second generation) and the search for one's identity, the need to be loved and accepted, and how that often lands one in abusive relationships. The narrative's structure is bold yet well achieved - two plot lines, elements of magical realism, characters believable even if sometimes feeling a little underdeveloped. I liked how the author followed the characters and the plot where they led him, leaving several unanswered questions and much food for thought. It made me sad, but also hopeful. And to think it was written by a 24-year-old, quite a feat! It makes me look forward for more work by this very talented writer.

La vie devant soi, de Romain Gary (Émile Ajar)

What a wonderful book. Extremely well written, in a poetic tone, and extremely moving. It's the second book by Romain Gary I read, and I'm thankful to Matti Friedmann for letting me know this author.

Oryx & Crake, by Margaret Atwood

An excellent book. I love dystopian stories, and this one is one of the better I have read so far. Margaret Atwood really nails it, the corporation's ruled world seems like a very probable future. It's extremely well written, and it's really intense. It's sad, but extremely thought provoking. The concept of an apocalypse reminded me of Kalkhi by Gore Vidal. An extremely intelligent book, and an intense read, like a thriller.

Uma Maneira de ser Moderno - exposição de Almada Negreiros na Fundação Gulbenkian

I always liked the work of Almada Negreiros, and the Gulbenkian exhibition is an excellent show. Almada was part of a brilliant set of artists that brought modern art to Portugal - Fernando Pessoa and Mário de Sá-Carneiro in literature, himself, Amadeo de Souza-Cardoso and Santa-Rita-Pintor in painting, to mention the most remarkable. They were all outstanding artists by any standards, and they brought a breath of fresh air to Portuguese art, distinctively Portuguese and yet cosmopolitan, in synch with what was going on in Paris at the time. They were the perfect modern artists, and Almada Negreiros was the one who lived longer. He was a kind of Renaissance man, painter, poet and writer, but I think he mostly excelled as a draughtsman. He had that rare ability of drawing the perfect picture with a few apparently simple lines.

Irreverent as he was at the beginning, his longevity and quality made him become the modern Portuguese artist par excellence, accepted and recognised even by such a backward regime as we had at the time. He decorated major buildings, from cafés to universities to the dockyards buildings, doing mosaics and stained glass windows, and his 40s style became somewhat of a standard in illustration - I remember my childhood books and grade schools books being illustrated by him or in his style.

The Gulbenkian museum keeps doing a great job showing Portuguese art; this show is another great contribution, a par with the one they did a few years back with Amadeo Souza-Cardoso, my favorite Portuguese painter.

Empire of Self - a life of Gore Vidal, by Jay Parini

I have been an admirer of Gore Vidal for a long time, since the 90s. The first of his books I read was Julian, out of my interest for historical novels, then the completely different Myra Breckinridge, out of a praise by Italo Calvino. I liked them both very much, but I think it was Empire that really got me hooked, and then Palimpsest and his essays. Here was an intelligent, sensible and witty voice, even if somewhat narcissistic and not artistically great.

I read all his Narratives of Empire, several of his satirical novels and many of his essays, and his memoirs. I enjoy his writing, and find myself agreeing with him more often than not. His constant auto-biographical remarks naturally led me to take an interest in his life, and what a life it was. He's one of the writers whose life I like to know, like Virginia Woolf, Bruce Chatwin, Patrick Leigh Fermor, Simone de Beauvoir. Deeply flawed as he undoubtly was, his was a courageous life - how else would one rate his publishing a book like The City and the Pillar in the 1940s? - because some writers' lives and work are so inextricably linked.

And how can one not love his witty remarks? Just a few samples: In my country, yes, the people can say anything they want, as long as nobody is listening. They do as they are they are told. On the other hand, Hollywood makes them happy. The sort of exuberant badness which so often achieves perfect popularity cannot be faked. I am at heart a propagandist, a tremendous hater, a tiresome nag, complacently positive that there is no human problem which could not be solved if people simply would do as I advise.

Jay Parini's book looks like a very balanced biography, affectionate and acknowledging its subject's qualities and flaws. I think it's does justice to its subject, and it's also an enjoyable read.

A weekend in Lyon

So I went to Lyon for a weekend; it's always nice to get away from the routine for a while, and I love to visit European cities. Lyon is a nice city, France's third largest, and I really enjoyed going there. The weather was nice enough, some periods of rain but also some sunny times to enjoy city walks and café terraces.

Arriving on a Friday afternoon, I started by walking around - crossed the Rhône to Presqu'Île at the huge Place Bellecour, headed north along 19th century boulevards to Place des Terreaux with the Hôtel de Ville, then enjoyed a drink at a terrace in the cosy Place Sathonay, where young people chat and smoke at the café terraces while old men play boules in the square.

I went up the hill by the Montée de la Grande Côte, toward a great view over the city, that even features a miniature Eiffel tower. Went down again and crossed the river to Vieux Lyon near the Saint Paul church, lots of people strolling or just sitting by the river banks on that sunny afternoon.

There were lots of kids around Saint Paul, it was probably the time when school finished. After visiting the small church, I walked around Vieux Lyon, the Rue Juiverie, the Rue du Boeuf, and then climbed the many steps of the Montée des Chazeaux to the hill of Fourvière, to enjoy the gorgeous view over the city, next to the 19th century basilica, appropriately described as an elephant on its back, the kind of huge religious building like the Sacré Coeur in Paris or the Notre Dame basilica in Marseilles.

Going down to Vieux Lyon was much easier than climbing the steps, and I had a glass of wine before dinner at the cathedral square, before eating a great meal at a bouchon nearby - I think it was one of the better meals I had in a long time - quenelles de brochet, Lyon saucisson, joue de boeuf, very good wines.

The next day, Saturday, it was cloudy and rainy. But I was lucky since it stopped raining around noon, so I could walk around Vieux Lyon and go to the Saint Just neighborhood to see the old church of Saint Irénée, and then the Roman ruined theatres. There's very little left of the Romah Lugdunum which, being the capital of Gaul, must have been a big Roman city. The site of the theatre is amazing nonetheless, commanding a splendid view over the city.

A rainy afternoon was the perfect time to go to the Musée des Beaux Arts. It has a very good collection, especially of Middle Eastern artifacts from Antiquity, and Limoges art and 19th century sculpture.

Then it stopped raining and I walked by the Opera along the river to my hotel.

On Sunday, I started the day visiting the Saint Jean cathedral, with its beautiful 14th century astrological clock, then went to Place des Terreaux, which was crowded with people coming to some urban races. I walked from there to the Croix Rousse neighborhood, along some very nice traboules, which are shortcuts between main streets, across nice courtyards and stairs.

I loved the Croix Rousse, with its buildings and squares, spent some time in a nice bohemian looking café and enjoyed the views over the river from its slopes. There was a little rain and I came across the Sunday runners several times. Then back to the Presqu'Île boulevards with its beautiful 19th century façades, and perusing the Gibert Joseph bookstore and buying a few books.

What else can one wish from a weekend abroad? Good sightseeing, great food, nice walks and a few good books to bring home and read later. Love Europe!

The Silk Roads, by Peter Frankopan

This is a really excellent book, an extremely enjoyable read, especially for History nerds like myself that were always fascinated with the East and the intricacies of History. The premise is very interesting - a universal history centered in the region between East and West, the famed Silk Roads, instead of Europe as we're used to. This shift of perspective makes for a reappraisal of several historical events under a new light - the same events, some different considerations. One has to know world history to appreciate it, because there are several facts only alluded to or not even covered, like the french revolution or the Enlightenment period.

I think there are two weaknesses in the book though: the first is the author doesn't try to explain how the West (meaning Europe) became the main determinant of the events since the 16th century, mostly due to the scientific revolution (Yuval Harari explains it extremely well in Sapiens); the other is his - in my opinion - misjudged appraisal of the present situation of the Central Asian countries. Yes, they may be experiencing a phase of extreme wealth due to their natural resources, but I don't think that means they're back to being the determinants of world history. Like the Iberian countries after the discoveries, their wealth is temporary and the real moving forces of world history are in the Western world due to their scientific and technological hegemony.

Anyway, I liked this book immensely, it reads like a novel, it's full of interesting and very well researched information, and it helps to understand our world history in an original and intelligent perspective. Peter Frankopan wrote a true masterpiece, and I look forward to read his other books.

We need to talk about Kevin, by Lionel Shriver

I had watched the movie, and liked it - fabulous Tilda Swinton - so I was curious to read the book. I liked it even better; it's very well written, moving and thought provoking. or personal reasons, I am very interested in these questions, of nature vs nurture and parenting, and I think the author poses these questions extremely well. A very good book.

Scandinavians, by Robert Ferguson

For a number of years now I've been interested in Scandinavia and its culture, ever since I went to Copenhagen - and then to Sweden, Norway and Iceland. I can't remember what first attracted me, maybe the feeling of a very civilised atmosphere, or the beauty of the cities - Copenhagen and Stockholm - so different from our southern European ones, or the extraordinary natural wonders of Norway - the Lofoten islands, the fjords - and later the magical nature of Iceland - but by that time I was already totally hooked. I think it started with a combination of the urban civilisation and the natural beauty, that led me to try to know its culture, and then the somewhat austere and melodic literature kept my interest going - I was already acquainted with Selma Lagerlöf, Karen Blixen and Peter Hoeg, and then I discovered Vilhelm Moberg, Per Lagerkvist, Knut Hamsun, Halldor Laxness. I even learnt a little Swedish, enough to read Swedish papers on the internet, watch some Swedish television series - like Äkta Människor, Bron and 1790 - and even read a couple of books in Swedish.

So, I was curious to read this book, its premise being to analyse Scandinavian culture and "soul" and understand its allure. And it certainly is a very interesting and readable book. The author is obviously in love with Scandinavian culture, he is extremely knowledgeable and the book is very informative, full of interesting anecdotes and details about Scandinavian history and culture, from the Vikings to Bergman, Queen Kristina to Breijvik, the Icelandic assembly to Denmark under Struensee, Knut Hamsun and Edvard Munch to the Abba. All that makes for a very interesting reading, but do we really get that soul of the North the author is searching? I don't think so; it certainly helps us to understand its civilisation and mores, but I guess there is something unfathomable in what attracts us to a culture that's not rationally understandable, and that's part of its fascination.

Un homme qui dort, de Georges Perec

Ever since I read the excellent La vie, mode d'emploi, I've been an admirer f Georges Perec, and even since no other of his books has appealed as much to me, I have liked all I've read by him. Un homme qui dort is very good, extremely insightful in what concerns the existential disenchantment with the world, a feeling we could call depression, but somehow if feels like is something simultaneous more and less than that, more a state of mind than a medical condition. And he writes in such a beautiful French! At the end, a sentence stuck in my mind: L'indifférence ne t'a pas rendu indifférent. He got it.

Sapiens - a brief history of Humankind, by Yuval Noah Harari

This is a really great book, I enjoyed it from the beginning until the last page. The author is extremely knowledgeable and writes in an engaging prose, and really knows how to convey the story of Homo sapiens since its origins until the present times.

It's also a very thought provoking book, the way it depicts the success of biologic evolution against the fate of individual beings, whether men or animals or plants. I really liked the author's description of the several breakthroughs in our evolution and history. All in all, it's an excellent book, and I highly recommend it.