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Not quite a star on Hollywood Boulevard

“Vanity, vanity,” said the author of Ecclesiastes, “all is vanity.” Most modern people, on hearing that verse in the King James version, assume it refers to an attitude of arrogant self-centeredness.

In fact, though (as I’m sure all our readers know), the meaning of “vanity” has changed over time. Nowadays, a better translation would be, “meaninglessness” or “futility.”

I think I’m guilty of both.

I learned that translators are not customarily listed in production credits in movies and TV. This began to nag at me, because I expect someone, someday, to challenge me on whether I participated in Atlantic Crossing (and other fine productions, I hope). I won’t be able to say, “Pause the credits on the DVD. My name’s right there.”

So I joined IMDb Pro today. I hesitated, because membership isn’t pocket change. But finally I went ahead and did it, and attached my name to the Atlantic Crossing IMDb page. I’m not sure how much non-members can see, but I can now be found under “Series Additional Crew.” At the very bottom, until such time as the Master of the Feast shall call me up unto a higher place.

This action plunged me immediately into confusion and distress.

Was this hubris? Where did I get off, trying to pass myself off as an entertainment professional?

On the continuum between self-abasement and self-aggrandizement, I never know where the sweet spot is. All I know is, I’m usually at one extreme or another, and mistaken about it. I have two great regrets in my life – not putting myself forward enough, and ever putting myself forward at all.

The great thing is that I’m pretty sure nobody will ever notice.

Watching ‘Atlantic Crossing’

Crown Princess Martha (Sofia Helin) and Crown Prince Olav (Tobias Santelmann) with the Roosevelts in “Atlantic Crossing.”

Now and then I write about things that I’ve seen or read, which you can’t enjoy because I read Norwegian and you don’t (nya nya nya). But this is about Atlantic Crossing, which I and some of you had the opportunity to enjoy (first 2 episodes only) yesterday, thanks to a special feed from the Cannes Film Festival. (The Cannes people and I are like that, and we often do favors for one another.)

My gloating is mitigated this time because we can all hope to see the full series in this country soon, perhaps early next year. This article from Yahoo! News says that AC is being eagerly snapped up by markets in various countries:

Sales have been struck with Italy’s RAI and Deutsche Telekom’s Magenta TV for Germany and Austria, as well as with France’ Chérie 25. The series was produced by leading Norwegian banner Cinenord for public broadcaster NRK, and was co-produced by Beta Film, SVT and DR.

“Atlantic Crossing” was also snatched up for Russia (more.tv), the Australian public broadcaster SBS, Greece and
Cyprus (Forthnet) and across Eastern Europe, including Lithuania (LRT). The event series is competing at Canneseries and will bow on NRK on Oct. 26.

Nothing there about US sales, but I find this in an article from the Malay Mail (of all places):

The eight-hour show has been sold throughout Europe and a US deal is in final negotiations, distributor Beta Film said.

So I look forward to seeing the whole thing soon. And I truly mean that. When I watched the preview yesterday, it amazed me.

I’m prejudiced, of course. I put in a lot of work on this project. Linda May Kallestein, who you’ll see listed as co-writer, was the woman who originally got me into script translation, and I still work for her often (due to her forgiving nature). I got the Cannes Festival video link from her.

But I don’t think I’m talking with blinders on when I tell you this is an astonishing production.

The photography is gorgeous (Norway has rarely looked so beautiful on film). The actors’ performances are uniformly excellent. The dramatic pace is relentless – sometimes as tense as a superior thriller.

I know this script (at least the first four episodes) better than almost anybody in the world outside the writers, because I worked (though not alone) through several revisions, and did the final proofing (again, of the first four episodes) before shooting began. And yet I was constantly surprised as I watched. When I’d visualized it in my head, it wasn’t as compelling as this. It’s all in the execution. Original direction, creative cinematography, and fine acting bring it all to life in ways that took my breath away. There wasn’t a false note from the titles to the credits.

And the final scene of Episode 2, when Märtha and her children have to leave Norway for an uncertain future, had me in tears like a little girl.

I told Linda May, in an email today, “I think you might be stuck with a classic on your hands.”

I think Atlantic Crossing may set a new benchmark for quality in miniseries.

Catch it when you get the chance. I’ll be sure to let you know.

‘Atlantic Crossing’ Preview

This offer is good today only.

I’ve been boring you for some time, talking about the big miniseries, Atlantic Crossing (trailer above), on which I did a whole lot of translation work (often when I say I worked on a project, I mean an episode or two. On this one I helped translate several episodes, and I proofread the entire first half, four episodes). Right now, it’s being judged at the Cannes Film Festival. If you sign in with your email address (or so I’m told; I haven’t tried it yet) you can view Episodes 1 and 2 right here. But the showing only lasts 24 hours, which means you’ve got to get to it before sometime around early afternoon tomorrow, my time (Central), Tuesday (if my reckoning is right. Which is not something to bet your life on).

I’m authorized to give you that link, by the way. I’ve messed such things up in the past, but I have this on good authority.

I like that trailer. Very moving, it seems to me. I hope it gets lots of awards at Cannes, so I can brag about my association even more. I’m an old man. I covet the gratifications I can still get.

“Well, our first event of the year kind of sucked,” said one of my friends in the Viking Age Club on Saturday. Some of us had gathered in another town for the funeral of one of our older members. (Cancer, not Covid. I know you were wondering.)

What a year it’s been. But, as Thanksgiving approaches (and Happy Canadian Thanksgiving, to any Good Neighbors to the North who happen to be reading this), I have to say I have much to be thankful for. Aside from my continued good health, I’ve gotten enough translating work (just about exactly enough; it’s kind of like manna) to sustain me through the year.

The funeral day came equipped with beautiful weather; today is about the same. Almost enough to make me an Autumn fan. Autumn days can be delightful; but I’m too much of a worrier to ever forget that Fall is the door through which Winter enters (with horns in a minor key, like Darth Vader).

But, day by day. That’s what I need to remind myself.

Leif Erikson Day

Leif Erikson discovers America, by Christian Krogh, who liked his heroes stout. I saw the original of this painting once, when it was on loan at Epcot.

In the honored tradition of this blog, or at least in the honorable tradition of my own posts, I shall announce a holiday at the point when it’s mostly over.

Today is Leif Erikson Day. A legal holiday in some states, though not the kind you get off work for.

Leif Erikson (I prefer to spell it Eriksson, with two s’s), of course, was the Norse discoverer of North America. Other Europeans may have done it before him, but they don’t have proof and we do. As I mentioned on Facebook, it’s OK to celebrate Vinland, because the colony was unsuccessful. If it had prospered, it would be another egregious example of European imperialism.

Leif himself is something of a mystery. He’s not one of those saga heroes who jump off the page as a full-blown personality. The sagas that tell of his exploits are fairly laconic. He seems to have been a man of boldness, sense, and good luck. Unlike most saga heroes, we have no evidence he ever killed anybody. And he was a convert to Christianity.

I feature him in two of my novels, The Year of the Warrior and West Oversea. There’s every reason to believe he probably knew Erling Skjalgsson. Erling had family and business ties in Iceland, and Leif’s father, Erik the Red, came from a farm in Jaeren, Erling’s bailiwick. As the chief of the Greenland colony, dependent on Norwegian markets, Leif probably did business with Erling.

A Norwegian bachelor buddy of mine texted me and asked, “How shall we celebrate Leif Erikson Day?” After considerable deliberation, we decided to clean out my gutters. It was an amazing day, above 80 degrees in August.

Party people we are not. But we did have pizza.

‘The End of Liberal Democracy’

My close personal friend (well, I’ve met him in actual space and time, which makes us pretty close by 2020 standards) Hunter Baker, of Union University, has a useful article in Touchstone in which he discusses an issue a lot of us are thinking about these days — is liberal democracy failing? Is the experiment over?

Nevertheless, let me, without rehearsing all the relevant developments, simply say that many of those structural limitations have now been overcome, through either amendment, expansive court decisions, or shrewd use of the powers to tax and spend. As a result, a constitution designed to embody Cicero’s wisdom for harmonizing diverse interests and avoiding the excesses of the various classical forms of government has been substantially transformed into something much closer to an ordinary majority-rule democracy. When one notes the calls for the termination of the electoral college, the politicization of the Supreme Court, and the discrediting of federalism due to the South’s intransigence with regard to both slavery and civil rights, it becomes clear that we are reverting to the mean as our Ciceronian (and even Calvinistic, as I’ve written elsewhere) constitutional democracy becomes more typical.

Read it all here.

Stamford Bridge

The lone Viking at the bridge, by the great Angus McBride

More Viking stuff tonight.

Today is the anniversary of the Battle of Stamford Bridge, traditionally (though somewhat arbitrarily) reckoned as the end of the Viking Age. It happened near a village not far from York, in the year 1066. King Harald Hardrada of Norway, who was getting on in years, had made a pact with Toste, the estranged brother of King Harald Godwinsson of England, to conquer the country. Harald believed he had a technical right to the throne as legal heir to his nephew, who’d had a slim claim.

According to the saga, Harald brought a fleet of 300 ships from Norway. On September 20 they defeated an English army at Fulford, and then accepted the submission of Northumberland. They were on their way to receive hostages on the 25th when they were suddenly attacked by the army of King Harold Godwinsson, who had made a forced march from the south.

The English must have been exhausted, while the Norwegians would have been relatively fresh. However, the Norse were not prepared for battle and many had left their mail shirts behind, because the day was warm and they expected no trouble. The battle, by all accounts, was nevertheless a hard-fought one.

An interesting detail is a story found in English sources (but not, surprisingly, in Norwegian ones as far as I know) about a warrior who defended the bridge with an axe all alone for an extended period of time, giving the Norwegians time to form up their ranks. He was killed at last by a spear thrust from below.

According to the saga, the Norwegians might have won if King Harald Hardrada had not taken an arrow in the throat, finishing on English soil a military career that had stretched from Norway to Russia to the deserts of the Middle East. But that’s how saga writers tell stories – I wouldn’t be surprised if the truth was more complicated. In any case, it’s undisputable that Harald was killed there.

One final item, often overlooked, might be of interest to our readers. There was a final (third) stage of the battle, after Harald’s death, remembered in Norway as Orri’s Storm. A young man named Eystein Orri, who was betrothed to the king’s daughter, had been left at Riccall to guard the ships. When he learned of the army’s peril, he and his force set off at a dead run to join the battle. There was really little they could do for the cause except die with their king, and that’s what they did. According to the saga, they were wearing their mail. But the weight and the heat exhausted them so that they were nearly played out when they got to the battlefield. But then (if you can believe the saga), they went into such a berserk frenzy that they threw off their mail shirts and fought unarmored. This made them easy targets (some, according to the saga, died from sheer exhaustion).

Eystein Orri was Erling Skjalgsson’s grandson, through his daughter Ragnhild.

According to the sagas, of the 300 ships that sailed to England with Harald, only 24 returned home. The English said that whitening bones could still be seen on the battle ground 50 years later.

Stacked

Another day, another failure to finish a book to review. So you’re condemned to a personal update. Unless you choose to just surf on. Which might be the way of wisdom.

Today was another example of what I call “temporal stacking.” (Did I invent that term? Or did I borrow it in a moment of absentmindedness, which is what most of my moments are these days?) Today is one of those earmarked for specified chores – on Thursdays I pay my bills. And I take the garbage out.

But I also had to go to the doctor today. (Warning: old fart’s repulsive health talk ahead.) I noticed a spot on my nose that I thought my dermatologist (never thought I’d have a personal dermatologist, but all the cool kids are getting them nowadays) should look at. He, of course, was not available at the office that’s located a mere fifteen minutes away. He was at the office that’s a half hour away. So I drove out to Excelsior (we have a town called Excelsior. So there) and showed it to him. He said no, it was nothing. However, that other spot on my cheek over there looked sketchy. I then received the Deadly Touch of the Frost Giant, and was sent home clothed and in my right mind.

All this was capped (and pleasantly so) by a new batch of paying translation work. It won’t pay my mortgage off, but it’s work and I’m grateful. I’ve put in 2.5 hours on it so far; more is to come.

Meanwhile, I’ve been making slow progress on the new Erling novel. The work is like punching my way through a room full of oatmeal – I can move ahead, but it’s an effort. I’m on the cusp of what ought to be a pretty nifty supernatural scene, but it will probably have to wait for realization.

Consensus of Depravity, Eager to Neglect

I believed, therefore I spoke,
“I am greatly afflicted.”
I said in my haste,
“All men are liars.” (Psalm 116:10-11)

I felt a bit triggered today when I saw someone casually mention the 9/11 attacks were an inside job. Were Bin Laden and his disciples bought and paid for by U.S. government officials? How does that explain anything better than the attack being their best effort to harm the country they hate? It doesn’t, but it is more tantalizing, more sensational, more of the prideful vein of being able to see through the lies powerful men sell us.

Earlier this week we said conspiracy theories were attempts at better explanations and they seem to ignore human neglect that causes all kinds of trouble. They also seem to ignore the common pride and self-interest that easily allow or actively pursue exploitation and hatred. We don’t need evil puppet masters pulling our strings to put our comfort or success over everyone around us.

Many people say prejudice isn’t natural, that people have to be taught who to dislike. I think prejudice is the most natural thing we do. It’s the easiest thing in the world to notice a difference in someone else and believe that difference makes you better than them. And it only takes the right flow of circumstances, rumors, and actual injuries to turn prejudice into hate.

I’ve read this is how the civil war in Rwanda was seeded. Belgian colonialists sowed racism among Rwandans a century ago, dividing them into ethnic groups in order to keep them under control. The people accepted this division and after a few decades began to hate each other. You could call that a conspiracy, but the colonial powers only wanted control; after they left, the hatred they sowed bore fruit in genocide.

Our own civil war was arguably worse, because we mostly wanted to exploit the labor of enslaved foreigners. Along comes General Lee to say, “What we wanted was the right to govern our lands by our own judgement.” But our judgement was an economy of exploitive labor, which many people both North and South supported. As long as we weren’t doing the hard work, we supported it. And along comes the Marxists to say, “All labor is criminally exploitive! We will lead a revolution to overthrow the current exploitation so that we can exploit the workers the right way–to our benefit!”

The Lord tells us to love him with all of our heart, soul, and mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves, and if ever a commandment demonstrated our depravity, it’s this one. Who among us doesn’t want our neighbor to simply keep to himself? How many of us are willing to allow risks for people who are removed from us and not for those close to us?

This week, a friend on Twitter described his neighborhood as being on the wrong side of the tracks. When the city scheduled a day for big item pickup in the nice parts of town, it sent several trucks, and teams of people volunteered to help. For his neighborhood, it sent one truck at a time with one driver to clear off the things his neighbors set out on the sidewalk. Some of those things couldn’t be picked up for various reasons; the city felt no compulsion to get them completely cleared away. And so the poor are further impoverished by the carelessness of the privileged.

I’ve heard that pharmaceutical companies run drug trials in African nations, where people have less ability to push back when things go wrong. People are complaining that their neighbors are being experimented on. This, dear believer of conspiracies, is the way of the world. No evil society with mythical power to command presidents and CEOs. Just regular people seeking their own interest and likely not thinking too long about the best interests of their neighbors.

R.I.P. Diana Rigg

Dame Diana Rigg (1938-2020) died today in London. An accomplished actress whose intelligence always shone through the camera lens, she first became famous playing Emma Peel in the classic English TV series, “The Avengers” (not to be confused with the Marvel franchise; see the intro and outro credits above). She had a long and successful career, playing the only Bond girl to actually marry the spy in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” and most recently carrying a role on “Game of Thrones.”

I was desperately in love with her in her “Avengers” days. According to my reading, she was a practicing member of the Anglican Church.

Evil is a Grassroots Experience

A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to sleep—
So shall your poverty come on you like a prowler,
And your need like an armed man. (Proverbs 6:10-11)

Yesterday, I talked about what conspiracies are in light of the World cover story on QAnon claims taking hold within the church. Why people believe unproven and often outlandish theories about select people or the world at large is hard to pin down.

One idea is that the theory of evil conspirators pressing toward world government flattens all the bad news into a single problem, drawing a battle line between the light and the night. One cultural commentator said the QAnon theories resemble the rumors of Satanic rituals circulating among believers in the 80s. In a way this makes sense. Who is the biggest corrupter of our world, if not Satan himself?

But if you’re inclined to agree with that, think about why creation is under a curse to begin with. In Adam’s fall sinned we all. Sure, the devil fed us a line, but we bought it and rejected what our Lord told us. It wasn’t his rebellion that brought down the curse; we earned that ourselves.

This is the big reason world conspiracies fall short. Humanity isn’t a flock of sheep, many of whom falling victim to a few evil goats who are themselves being manipulated by the devil. A strain of evil runs through every one of us.

“For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do” (Rom 7:19).

It is Christ’s work in us that keeps us from grassroots sin: pride, selfishness, and seeking our own interests. It is Christ’s work in the world that keeps unrepentant sinners from ruining themselves and those around them. We don’t need a secret society to pressure us into sin. We do it willing, even as we tell ourselves to stop.

Many great evils occur throughout the world as a result of normal people making choices. The explosion of 2750 tons of ammonium nitrate last month in Beirut, killing over 200 people, ruining a vital port that will harm countless civilians for months, and shutting down the government completely, was the result of neglectful politicians who saw no reason to clean up a mess. What harm was it doing to anyone two months ago?

A scientist who was nearby said, “I heard a terrible wheeze, a sinister noise. I saw a huge cloud flashing in my direction. I lived through the civil war in Lebanon, but this was the moment I was sure I was going to die.”

Unintended consequences and unforeseen events have caused wide ranging damage from ruined birthday parties to ruined lives. A famished president ate a pile of fresh fruit that killed him with cholera. Poorly designed o-rings allowed a spaceship to explode. And that thing you said to your friend at work? That’s why you’re meeting with the boss in the morning. We don’t often go looking for harm; we just run into it along the way.

Neglect is only one form of grassroots sin. We’ll talk about another form in another post.

Photo by Sigurdur Fjalar Jonsson, Unsplash