Saturday, March 27, 2010
They're taking The Little Mermaid away.
How can they do that to us Danes? Our national treasure is being shipped to Expo 2010, so the Chinese can drool over her. What's next? That the Brits send Big Ben or the Americans Britney Spears?
Actually, it's pretty hard being Danish these days. Everybody seems to hate us. We botched COP15, the Climate Conference in Copenhagen, and the Swedes are trying to outdo us with their own cartoon crisis. We're not even allowed to stand out when we're bad.
Talking about being bad, a week ago a new universe opened up for me - an online community of bloggers who write about how much they dislike my fine upstanding country. Most of these unhappy souls are immigrants condemned to the darkest abyss of Hell - better known as Copenhagen, Århus, and Odense.
Here are some of the quotes that made me cry the most. They're from a blog called A Guide to Denmark and the Denish Way - that's right, the Denish way. I've never heard of Denish before, but they sure sound like a nasty people.
A word of warning to the sensitive: If you're sick enough to like Denmark you shouldn't read this. You should go and play with your Lego or drink yourself to death in that second rate beer of ours called Carlsberg.
Here are some quotes from some disappointed immigrants who thought they'd moved to Shangri-La, but discovered it wasn't much different than Sodoma.
"We hate it here. But the thing is, you get sucked in. From the outside Denmark just looked like the dreams we’d have of Scandinavia, but ..."
"The Danes are so orderly and sheep like."
"It is rare to find a parent who chooses to be a homebody. Women who stay at home here tend to be mentally unwell or with some other "excuse’ to not work."
"We worry about their loose attitudes to some issues (nudity and sexual explicit material in public) and their way of being extremely tight about others, like their clampdown on other cultures living here."
"We wanted to enjoy a slower pace of life here ... but we have been steadily disgusted by the material trappings of life in Denmark."
"The Danes drink so much. We used to like a drink before we came here, but we have kind of reached saturation point."
"We worry about our kids growing up in such a weird inbred culture."
"The idiots in power here are a great concern but we have to consider the people who are voting them in."
"The Danes are so hard to love ... and it is hard to feel close to them."
Lovely quotes. They sure made my day. But I'm still crying my eyes out over being a sheep from an inbred culture of unlovable mentally unstable drunks whose kids are brought up on an unhealthy diet of porn - especially because it's all true.
But now you have to excuse me. I absolutely have to read some of the other blogs like People Who Love Denmark Are Blind and The Danidiots Are Winning. I'm not one to say no to a good spanking, you know ...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
A week ago I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Reading Local, a West Coast website that highlights local writers. Since I'm just a visitor with a visa, I'm happy to be considered part of the Portland scene - especially since everybody is a writer in the Rose City.
I'm actually deeply suspicious of Portlanders who don't write. I figure there has to be something wrong with them, a mental sickness perhaps because Portland is an artsy and trendy town - it's one of those place where you don't just work at McDonalds, you're also a Haiku poet.
So Portland, Oregon is bursting with talent, readings, writer workshops, literary journals, and naked poetry slams. You could call it a Heaven for wordsmiths
Here's an excerpt of the interview with me by Teresa Bergen.
By the way, please take words like "handsome" and "talented" with a grain of salt. I'm neither.
READING LOCAL: PORTLAND AUTHOR PROFILE PETER FOGTDAL by Teresa Bergen
The handsome Danish author Peter H. Fogtdal took a break Friday to let me snoop around his apartment and ask nosy questions. He deserves a break, and a better one than I provided, after the fifteen months since his novel The Tsar’s Dwarf came out from Portland’s own Hawthorne Books.
In that time he has done forty events in ten states to promote his book, taught at PSU, and accomplished the amazing international feat of simultaneously writing one novel in Danish and a different novel in English. I caught him in the midst of editing the Danish novel, which he had just finished writing two days earlier.
Amidst his décor of beautifully misty Portland paintings and a collection of delicate old teacups, we talked about his life of travel and writing.
While Fogtdal has a long and distinguished writing career with twelve books to his credit, The Tsar’s Dwarf is the first to be translated into English. It tells the story of Sørine, a dwarf whom the king of Denmark gave to the Russian tsar in 1716. She is foul-mouthed, foul-tempered, and much smarter than anybody else in the book.
When I asked a question about traditions in what I stupidly termed “dwarf literature,” Fogtdal nipped that line of questioning in the bud.
“I don’t know anything about dwarf literature,” he said, “because I’m not interested in dwarves at all.” It turned out that Sorine was an accidental dwarf. Fogtdal was writing a book about Peter the Great and the Danish king Frederik IV, and their fractious 1716 meeting in Copenhagen ...
“I got so bored writing that,” Fogtdal said. He put the first fifty or sixty pages away for a year. “When I came back to it, it suddenly dawned on me that I’d read several times that Peter the Great kept dwarves like other people collect stamps. So I figured oh my God, the protagonist has to be a dwarf.”
After that, the novel became easy to write. Fogtdal was able to tap into his inner dwarf, the part of him that is angry at the world.
Many historical novels are dense and ponderous, but The Tsar’s Dwarf is a sparsely written page turner. “It’s my fourth historical novel, and you learn one thing,” Fogtdal said, “that all the info you find interesting is not interesting for the reader. And sometimes you wish that other historical novelists would realize that.” In his last drafts of novels, Fogtdal trims ten to thirty pages of extraneous details.
Fogtdal said it would be no fun to translate his own novels. “And my English wouldn’t be good enough. That’s the weird thing. My English, I think, is sufficient to write a novel in English, at least if I use a first-person persona that’s close to me. But it’s not good enough to translate my own novel.”
His first novel written in English is set in India and tells the story of a man who blames his guru for his life not turning out better. Fogtdal has been to India eight times and knows a thing or two about gurus. He has lots of material for his book and is very excited about it.
Fogtdal has long lived a nomadic lifestyle. He is a writer-in-residence in Portland, and doesn’t know where he will go next. Perhaps Hong Kong.
One of his best travel experiences was in 2005, which was the bicentennial of the birth of famous Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. Danish embassies all over the world commemorated Andersen in different ways. The Vietnamese embassy invited Fogtdal to talk to youngsters about Andersen.
“And then we made the very logical assumption why should I do that, why not play him?” Fogtdal said. He traveled to six Vietnamese cities, performing as Andersen, along with a Vietnamese actress who read two of Andersen’s fairy tales, an emcee/translator and a tech man.
“It’s definitely one of the best experiences I’ve had in my whole life,” Fogtdal said. “And I mean, we were treated like rock stars.” The shows were a smashing success, except with the sophisticated kids in Saigon. “Those were the kind of kids that listened for ten minutes and then they were on their cell phones,” Fogtdal recalled. “They were too Western. That was a struggle.”
Portland has been good to Fogtdal. A dedicated bicyclist, he appreciates the emphasis on biking here, although he said there are four times as many bicyclists in Copenhagen. The bike paths in his home country are also better. “Here you call it a bike path when you paint a yellow color on the street where the cars are driving as well.”
Bikes are especially important to Fogtdal because he has made it into his fifties without ever having a driver’s license. “I don’t drive,” he said. “And I never even tried.”
Since he was an adolescent, Fogtdal said he knew there were two things he should never do. “And that was have a gun in my hand and drive a car. And none of the two I’ve ever done. And I never will. It’s never going to happen. Never.”
If you haven't had enough, read the full interview here