Poisseblog

Month

August 2009

3 posts

François Villon (1431-?): Poet, monk and original bad boy


One of France’s finest 15th century poets was also a semi-monk… And a party boy, prankster, whore-lover, bandit and even murderer.

In the excellent “Je, François Villon”, Jean Teulé spins a fascinating docu-fiction, based on supposed fact and educated guesswork, around this original bad boy’s turbulent life.

Admired both by classic scribes like Rabelais and Verlaine and by songsters such as Georges Brassens and Bob Dylan, Villon’s life, as told by Teulé, reads like a medieval Tarantino film:

  • Religiously adopted by a Parisian priest, Villon took full advantage of his protected ‘clark’ status - in short, very difficult to hang - by organising parties in graveyards and routinely hassling one of the most pious women in Paris, plus the city’s despicable chief of police

  • Villon frequently visited a hooker so vile he would get lost in her multiple layers of grimy flab… Whilst her husband looked on

  • In order to join a group of mercenaries, he robbed a mother at her son’s grave; killed a prostitute; and delivered his beloved to said mercenaries, so they could have their wicked way with her

  • No sooner had they done so than the chief of police arrived to brand said girl a prostitute; she subsequently decided to be emprisoned for life in a tiny tower outside a church, where she stayed, trapped, forever

  • Villon stole two priceless books from Charles d’Orleans, in the hope of selling them to another nobleman, only to lose them in the rain

  • He went on a looting, raping and pillaging spree with said mercernaries, in which a judge’s sister was gang raped then shot with 200 arrows

  • He ended up being tortured for 3 months, then returned to Paris, where his poetry had made him a rock star; he once again got into trouble (albeit indirectly), avoided execution for an umpteenth time and was banished from Paris, never to be seen again.

A model for us all then! In any case a cracking book, if you read French of course! If not, just thank your uncle Poisse for this natty resumé ;)

Aug 20, 2009
Summer romances: Toddla T, The xx & (still) Kasabian

Toddla T (photo) is another of those annoyingly talented musicians born in the LATE 80s who has managed to make dancehall palatable with chart-friendly ditties like imminent single Shake It, whilst also mastering the rinsin’ riddims of me yoot, as proved by Boom DJ from the Steel City. As the excellent Ilictronix puts it here, “debut album “Skanky Skanky” is what it would sound like if Jack Beats, Basement Jaxx, Beenie Man and Arctic Monkeys went to Notting Hill Carnival and beat the shit out of each other for 51 glorious minutes. A mash of dancehall, garage, dubstep and electro, it’s definitely my album of the year so far”. Rewind!

Next is The xx, four 19 year-old Londonians (born in NINETEEN NINETY!) who have dragged the “let’s sound like Joy Division” vibe out of the doldrums by adding infectious lekky beats, as on my current fave “Crystalised” (top video here). Listen to more here on Living Ears… who are also calling their imminent album their pick of the year! Sheesh…

Finally Kasabian, who I’ve not got round to bigging up here yet but who have already produced one of the albums of the year (yawn!) with West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum. Definitely their best LP yet, a rowsing collection of cliché-free balls-out rawk which I recently discovered was produced by none other than Dan the Automator! Respect. Here’s my fave (& my daughters’ too after repeated plays in the car!): “Take Aim”, pure genius. Don’t you think?

Aug 13, 2009
Costa del Hell

If there’s anything more clichéd than going on a package holiday, there’s going on a package holiday, hating it and then complaining to the tour operator in the hope of compensation. So colour me & my family walking clichés! :(

It all started out rather innocently. With 2 small offspring, Marie & I accepted our fate of the all-inclusive resort hotel — “you know, for the kids” — a few years back. We got lucky the first time with the luxurious Club Pollentia in northern Majorca, and as such repeated the experience several times.

This year, the idea was to try something different but similar, for a record 2 weeks of feet-up-by-the-pool. Unfortunately, our chosen venue — eastern Spain’s Ametlla Mar hotel — made us want to leave immediately.

Why? Imagine being forced to listen to Robbie Williams, Scatman, The Birdie Song, REM and more at great volume from 10am to midnight, when all you want to do is relax after a hard year’s work. OK, they did play the occasional The Streets track but even “Fit but you know it” grates after 7 listens. Result: headaches, not farniente.

Also, if you will, try to imagine this relentless & unavoidable audio onslaught whilst surrounded by the fattest Spaniards I’ve ever seen: male bellies ravaged by beer, female bellies ravaged by fifth pregnancy. Yes, kids stay for free at the Ametlla Mar, especially the just-born, screaming type.

Fortunately, the end of our stay was improved by meeting a 3-generation family from Pau who lived nearby; and who assured us the hotel’s brouhaha had been bothering the neighbours for years. They even protested once by banging pots and pans outside the hotel one monring to wake up unsuspecting residents!

In the end, though, we couldn’t stand it for more than a week; so we disappeared to Barcelona, then Fos (French Pyrenees), then to our dear old Pays Basque, where the holibobs should end up far more nicely. Fingers crossed Thomas Cook do the right thing; but I am, of course, a hopeless optimist…

Perhaps next time we should go with companies like this, who openly offer “chav-free holidays”… gap in the market fo’ sho’!

So, to anticipate September’s most-asked question, how are/were your holidays?

Aug 9, 2009
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