III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
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THE GUARDIAN
Boy's rape scene delays film release as Hollywood and Afghan culture collide Dan Glaister in Los
Angeles and Declan Walsh in Islamabad
Friday October 5, 2007
Studio to take young Kite Runner stars to US before worldwide screenings amid fears for their safety at
home
It is a pivotal moment in a heartbreaking story. A young man looks back on the moment that defined his life.
"I became what I am today at the age of 12, on a frigid, overcast, day in the winter of 1975. I remember the
precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek."
The opening words to the best-selling novel The Kite Runner by the Afghan-American writer Khaled
Hosseini describe the reaction of a young boy, Amir, as he witnesses the rape of his best friend, Hassan.
Now that same scene is at the centre of a row that has set an Afghan family against a Hollywood studio, and
led to the delay of the film version of the novel, one of the most eagerly awaited films of the year.
Paramount Vantage, the arthouse division of Paramount Studios that made the $18m (£9m) film, has
postponed the picture's release until it can ensure the safety of the two young Afghans who portray the
protagonists.
Ahmad Khan Mahmidzada, the boy who plays Hassan, and his family have alleged that the film-makers did
not tell them about the scene until the day of shooting. Concerned at the possible repercussions the children
may face, the studio is bringing them to the US at the time of the film's worldwide release.
Twelve-year-old Ahmad Khan, who is from Kabul, spoke about the rape scene to the Associated Press last
month, saying: "They didn't give me the script. They didn't give me the story. If I knew about the story, I
wouldn't have participated as an actor in this film."
The scene is a highly impressionistic rendering of a Pashtun man raping Hassan, a Hazara boy from a
servant's family. The actor's parents say it could inflame painful ethnic divisions in Afghanistan.
Another actor, Nabi Tanha, who plays Hassan's father, has also expressed concerns about the language used
against members of Afghanistan's Hazara ethnic group, portrayed in the film.
Rebecca Yeldham, one of the film's producers, claims that both the boy and his father were aware of the
scene. "The father was explicity told about the content of that scene at the time of casting," she said. "We
rehearsed the scene very early during the shoot in China."
Yeldham said that although the pair never raised concerns about the scene, the film-makers knew that other
Afghan members of the cast and crew had reservations about it.
"The day of the shoot I went to the trailer and the boy was teary," said the film's director, Marc Forster, who
is directing the next Bond movie. "I asked what was wrong and he said he didn't want to expose any of his
body. I asked if there was anything else wrong and he said no. He was fine and we shot the scene. I never
wanted the scene to be gratuitous or explicit."
Changes were made and the most graphic elements of the final scene are a shot of a belt buckle being
undone, and some drops of blood that fall from Ahmed's trousers in the next scene. But the boy's father says
the film-makers agreed to drop the scene altogether. "When we argued, they said, 'we will cut this part of the
film, we will take it out of the script'," said Ahmad Jaan Mahmidzada.
The 12-year-old said he feared schoolmates might make fun of him or that adults might physically harass
him, believing the rape actually took place. "It's not one or two people that I have to explain to," he said. "It's
all of Afghanistan. How do I make them understand?"
The studio has altered the film's release date to leave time for the two boys to complete their school year in
Afghanistan, which ends on December 6. The boys will then go to the US, accompanied by guardians.
The studio fears that soon after the UK release, pirated copies of the film will make their way to Afghanistan,
which does not have a functioning cinema system. "We're taking the position that any suggestion of risk for
these kids is something that has to be taken with the utmost seriousness," said Yeldham.
A similar controversy exploded last year after the opening of Kabul Express, an Indian movie set in
Afghanistan. A furore erupted around a scene in which a character accuses Hazaras of being bloodthirsty
killers. The actor later fled to India. "We had to ship him out to Delhi as people were after his guts," said
Saad Mohseni, of Tolo television.
Mr Mohseni, who has seen the final cut of The Kite Runner, said its portrayal of the rape was "very
sensitive" and he doubted it would endanger the actors. "It's possible they will be ostracised within their
families. But it will only become an issue in society if the minority leaders make an issue out of it."
Timor Shah Hakimyar, of Afghanistan's Foundation for Culture and Civil Society, said The Kite Runner's
rape scene would create problems only if it were graphically portrayed.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
"If there is direct sex against the boy, then it will be difficult to release here. But if it is symbolic, then it will
be OK. People see so many films in Afghanistan, sometimes involving a [raped] woman. If they show it
symbolically, there is no problem for the actor."
A trip to the US could bring benefits for the boys as the high-profile film is released in the run-up to the
Hollywood awards season. "They really want to be part of the celebration of the movie," said Yeldham. "We
want them to receive their due recognition for the work."
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian News and Media Limited 2007
2
THE GUARDIAN
Fashion world holds it breath for new Versace in the house that Gianni built
by Hadley Freeman
September 24, 2007
When Gianni Versace was murdered on the steps of his Miami Beach mansion in 1997, many feared the
flamboyant and idiosyncratic empire he created would die with him.
But far from withering away, the brand seems as strong as ever; and in the coming days, two events are
likely to mark its complete rejuvenation.
After a difficult period when the company appeared to be in decline, Gianni's sister Donatella will close
Milan fashion week on Thursday, and within days, his niece will show her debut collection - under the
Francesca V label - during Paris fashion week.
It will be the work of Francesca that will be the cause of the biggest frisson - just a year after finishing her
fashion design studies, the future of the dynasty may rest in her hands.
Not that the pressure appeared to be affecting her.
"Fashion is in my blood and I'm very excited about showing my collection," said the 25-year-old, whose
father, Santo, controls the business side of Versace and is the brother of Donatella.
Francesca's pedigree may explain her matter-of-fact reaction to having a major presentation in Paris so soon
after graduating from the prestigious Central Saint Martins College in London - "Well, I was looking around
for something after graduating and this happened."
Perhaps a sense of entitlement is not surprising from a young woman whose childhood wardrobe largely
comprised wares from one of the most expensive brands in the world.
Francesca's success neatly mirrors the return to prominence of the other, more famous range from the family
stable, designed by her aunt Donatella, whose show will close Milan fashion week on Thursday night. This
prestigious slot on the Milan fashion week schedule emphasises the place of importance still accorded to the
famous brand.
But after Gianni was killed just a month and a half before his "dear friend" Diana, few could have predicted
the label would be so strong again.
Donatella had been swiftly appointed creative director, although some questioned whether the woman best
known for her love of parties was up to the job. By 2004, the company was struggling. Although it refuses to
confirm exact figures, it was making markedly less a year than it did when Gianni was alive, with a year-onyear decline. The brand that had been so associated with excess and glamour of the late 80s and 90s was
beginning to look out of date, and without a strong figurehead. The company cancelled its couture shows in
2003, and the following year Donatella was admitted to a drug therapy clinic for addiction to cocaine.
But since she checked out and cleaned up, Donatella has worked hard to make the Versace brand as strong as
it was in her beloved brother's heyday.
Instead of trying to mimic Gianni's past successes she has given the brand a new, more modern, more elegant
image. Instead of dresses made out of safety pins, as Elizabeth Hurley famously wore in 1994, recent
successes include more demurely draped cocktail frocks and tailored trouser suits.
The most recent financial figures which date from September 2006 show that in the first half of that year
consolidated revenues came to €148m (£103m) and a return to profit before tax for the Versace Group of
approximately €2m.Sales across the board increased, particularly in the lucrative accessories division which
exceeded 30%.
Now thanks to what the Versace financial report calls "considerably increased cash flow", the company can
indulge again in its love of excess.
It recently announced it is to start designing the interiors of private jets and helicopters, a move the company
describes as "a natural extension within the Versace world". Donatella's last show in February received
almost unanimously good reviews.
As did her niece's graduate show in London in June 2006. Unlike the last graduate from the fashion college
with an internationally famous surname, Stella McCartney, Versace received nothing but praise from the
press for her graduate show, with fashion editors noting its "professionalism" and "sleekness".
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
Although Francesca's father has always been seen as the quiet one of the famous Versace siblings, his
daughter appears to be following in her aunt's footsteps in more ways than one. Aside from her early success
in the fashion world since her arrival in London to study fashion design at Central Saint Martins she has been
a regular feature in gossip columns and has been linked with various young royals and Hollywood actors.
"She hangs around with a very Euro and Boujis set," said one of her friends in London, referring to the west
London nightclub frequented by Princes William and Harry.
Yet like her aunt she clearly takes her designing seriously.
Her collection in Paris is done in collaboration with a boutique in Singapore, where she was living over the
summer, and she has "quite a few" independent projects coming up.
"Having this name can work against you or for you," she said on the phone last week. "Right now things are
going very well."
In the blood
Gianni Versace
The man behind some of fashion's most iconic moments and head of an empire which at its height made over
$1bn a year in sales. In 1997 he was murdered outside the house in Miami which he shared with his longterm
partner. His killer later killed himself.
Donatella Versace
Youngest and most recognisable Versace sibling. Her celebrity-laden lifestyle made her Gianni's muse, and
she became creative director when he died. After an initial downturn, which ended after she was admitted to
a clinic for drug addiction, Donatella has returned the company to its former glory. She owns 20% of the
company and her daughter Allegra, 18,owns 50%.
Santo Versace
The less flamboyant and eldest sibling. Established the Versace brand with Gianni in 1977, now in charge of
the business side and many credit him with a large part of the recent resurgence. He almost never gives
interviews. He owns 30% of the company.
Francesca Versace
The only daughter of Santo, Francesca's childhood alternated between the academic expectations of her
father to hanging out backstage at her uncle's shows with Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell. She trained at the
prestigious Central St Martins in London. She has only asked her aunt for advice once but Donatella's
response was: "You know how to do it."
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THE GUARDIAN
Ask Leo: Your ethical dilemmas sorted
by Leo Hickman
Thursday June 28, 2007
If the recently announced European ban on cat- and dog-fur imports doesn't actually come into force until the end of
next year, how can I guarantee now I'm not buying something containing cat or dog "product"?
Shelley Long, Middlesex
Without having an expensive and somewhat cumbersome DNA testing kit to hand, there is no way of telling with
certainty that something you are eyeing up in the high street doesn't contain the coat of Tiddles' or Rover's faraway
cousin. Obviously, avoiding any item of clothing with a fur detail is a necessary and principled start, but cheap fur has
not only found its way on to the - a particularly unfortunate phrase this, I know - catwalk but also into shops in the form
of cuddly toys. Well, this is what campaign groups such as Respect for Animals and Humane Society International
claim, even though they admit that, to date, they have not found hard evidence of this in the UK, only continental
Europe.
There still remains an unfortunate administrative loophole whereby cat- and dog-fur imports can enter Europe unaudited
via the "other fur" tick box on the import forms. Only species such as fox, mink and rabbit have their own specific
classification for customs officials to scrutinise and tot up.
The new ban can only be applauded, but it says a lot about our sensibilities that it stops at cats and dogs. The
campaigners who have lobbied for years for it to be passed readily admit that the politicians would only support a ban
that has widespread public support, which meant, for example, that rabbits, despite being popular pets, were not
included as they don't tug quite as hard at our heartstrings as our canine and feline friends. It gives the impression that
our empathy stops at the cat flap.
Dozens of equally contentious animal products will remain on the market. It now seems likely that seal products will be
the next battleground. Expect sellers of sealskin sporrans to be the new target of campaign groups, as well as purveyors
of omega-3 fatty acids made of "marine oil", a term that conveniently disguises the fact that seal, or even dolphin, oil
might have been used.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
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THE DAILY EXPRESS
HISTORY IS HERE TO STAY WITH THE PAST MASTERS OF BRITAIN
Saturday September 29,2007
Historic House Hotels in Britain specialise in restoring country houses and opening them up to guests.
DUNCAN CRAIG checks in to one of their three properties, Middlethorpe Hall
FOR A William III property whose first brick was laid in 1699, the reincarnation of Middlethorpe Hall as a
Seventies nightclub was the final indignity.
As I relaxed in the refined silence of the exquisitely restored ballroom, sipping Pimm’s and perusing the
“Bill of Fare”, it seemed remarkable to think that just a generation ago the portraits around me would have
been frosted mirrors, the chandelier a glitter ball.
I looked for signs of the radical salvage, something that might betray a speedy cut-and-shut job. None could
be seen. From every pore oozed that wonderful, intangible sense of history.
That the rich past of Middlethorpe had a future is down to the enigmatic chairman of Historic House Hotels,
Richard Broyd. He acquired the crumbling building left after the eviction of Brummels disco and more than
a century of neglect and – over five years from 1979 – restored it inch by ornate inch to historically accurate
standards.
Almost imperceptibly he inserted a hotel, the 29 rooms moulded by the idiosyncrasies of the main hall and
adjacent courtyard. Today, these rooms share little, save for a preoccupation with comfort. The quality
fabrics are as individual as the antiques, which are constantly being added to.
“Christie’s contacts the owner when anything from the original house comes up for auction,” said manager
Lionel Chatard, pointing out a painting in the sumptuous Duke of York suite that had been hanging less than
three weeks. “He will always look to buy if there’s a link.”
My partner and I stayed in a spacious upstairs room in the courtyard area, with views of rolling fields
through one window and the imposing red-brick hall through the other. With quirky patterned wallpaper,
dainty reading lamps and a wireless-style radio, it brought to mind a favourite guestroom at the home of a
wealthy grandmother – homely and just a tiny bit eccentric.
In the modern en-suite bathroom, thick white robes embroidered with the HHH initials were draped over
warming towel rails.
The rain fell almost unabated during our weekend stay, swelling the River Ouze 200 yards away and putting
the flood-weary residents of York, two miles upstream, on alert. We had hoped to explore the Yorkshire
Dales and North Yorkshire Moors; in the event, we were happy to be confined to the Hall and soak up the
history – save for a soggy outing to York’s awe‑ inspiring Minster.
Middlethorpe today exhibits all the eccentricities of age – wonky doorframes, gently undulating floors,
asymmetrical ceilings. We gravitated to the ballroom, with its dazzling array of antique furniture, ornaments
and portraits, and stunning views through floor-length bay windows of the open lawn and distant parkland.
Across the chequered marble South Hall – with its carved oak staircase overseen by a portrait of diarist and
one-time resident Lady Mary Wortley Montagu – is the Oak Room where guests dine.
HERE we sat around candle-lit tables, admiring the striking marble fireplace and hand-carved original wood
panelling, which had to be painstakingly reclaimed from sickly green paint applied by one of the multiple
tenants that preceded Brummels.
The fare was inventive – roasted quail with pancetta, morels and sherry vinaigrette jus; poached turbot with
asparagus and chive sauce.
Guests have unlimited use of the pool and spa, hidden within a pair of Edwardian cottages across from the
courtyard. I shuffled across in my robe the following day and eased on to the massage table to be unknotted
by a masseuse still lamenting the fact that she was absent the day Russell Crowe came for a rub-down.
Recent guest Tony Blair went unmentioned.
Between breaks in the clouds, we ventured into the Hall’s 20 acres of parkland, dotted with ornate fountains
and stone urns, and sat in the ha-ha, a flat-backed trench cut into the lawn from where Lady Montagu would
have reflected, quill in hand.
Delayed by a lightning strike to York station, we enjoyed prolonged hospitality from Mr Chatard and his
team. “Building rapport with the guests is important to us,” he said as we finally left, adding with an
unapologetic shrug: “The way we work is maybe a little old-fashioned.”
In such venerable surroundings, somehow nothing else would do.
the 90-acre grounds.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
5
THE HERALD
‘Yes, we have problems here, but so does everyone else’
by STEVEN RAEBURN
The noise is incredible. A low bass can be heard thumping outside from 50ft away. The doors are closed, but
emanating from within, screams and cheers compete with the music booming from the PA system.
It is Friday afternoon, and sitting in the dark in an improvised cinema, next to an unprepossessing row of
shops adjacent to a derelict dentist's surgery in the heart of Easterhouse, Disney's High School Musical holds
scores of local children enraptured.
They know it word perfect. They sing along, hold their hands in the air for the ballads, and, at the climactic
moments, are out of their seats and dancing. Watching discreetly, and singing along a little himself, is
Stephen McGoldrick, the architect of this unnoticed triumph in the heart of one of Europe's most
economically deprived areas.
More than a youth centre, for many of the youngsters who come here on each of the six days and nights that
its doors are open, it is almost home.
This is Innerzone - the hub of the same universe that featured so prominently in the As It Is schools DVD,
launched triumphantly by Strathclyde Police in September, which featured brutal footage of the after-effects
of gang fighting, the territorial scourge of this area.
Images from the film, showing horribly wounded children maimed in knife battles, were splashed across
news bulletins and front pages, accompanied by febrile fears that the police would show such a horror video
- portraying stabbings and violence - to the city's children.
The film is indeed powerful, but now McGoldrick, Innerzone's project co-ordinator, says its message and
intent were hijacked by the police and he fears that the damage done to the perception of the area and the
work that is done here might adversely effect the children he dedicates his life to supporting.
"I didn't think it was right that the police took all credit for it," he says. "This DVD would not have been
made without the work of Fare (Family Action in Rogerfield and Easterhouse) and Innerzone Youth Club".
"The police didn't even mention the work of the youth workers, and I thought that was disgraceful."
The video was made by Doug Aubrey and Marie Olesen, the partnership behind independent production
company Autonomi, over 10 months, much of which was spent gaining the trust of the adolescents, for
whom Innerzone is possibly the only alternative to a life on the street and the deadly possibilities that
presents.
More than two months passed before a camera was picked up, and it took many further months of patient
pseudo-parenting, persistence and millimetre- by-millimetre progress into the inner circles of the kids' lives
before they were able to capture the intermittent but deadly violence that can flare up, sometimes without
warning, but often with predictable certainty if territorial tensions escalate.
In the film, young people from Easterhouse talk candidly about their involvement in gangs and the feelings
they got from being involved in fighting - as well as the longer-term costs. The degree of involvement from
young people - who usually give little away - could never have been achieved without Innerzone,
McGoldrick says, and filmmakers confirmed this.
The film also shows CCTV footage of youth gang violence, children from a variety of parts of the city
recovering in accident and emergency departments and recording warnings to others about the dangers of
being drawn into a violent life.
McGoldrick is concerned about two potential consequences of negative perception generated by the publicity
surrounding the launch.
The Innerzone youth centre is reliant on a complicated network of funding, and an inaccurate presentation
could impact on their ability to stay afloat, he says.
One of the reasons McGoldrick agreed to get involved in the project was to help correct perceptions of the
area and explain that gang fighting is a city-wide problem, he says. The effect has been the reverse.
Secondly, and more disturbingly, McGoldrick says perceptions can, perversely, become a reality for the
children at the centre, whose life choices are extremely limited from the outset.
"They are labelled, and it is hard to shake that label off," he explains.
"If they keep getting labelled, they'll say **** it, I'm a gang fighter', and they will believe it."
Despite its location and its membership, gang fighting - or any kind of fighting - is hard to find at Innerzone.
It is next door to a licensed grocer, but no-one hangs around outside. There is no alcohol, or evidence of it
anywhere. The centre is constantly full, but no-one is idle. Everyone is occupied, either on a bank of PCs
chatting on social networking sites, or playing well-mannered pool. There is a music room, where several
incarnations of nascent bands are at work on their repertoire. Boys and girls drop in and unselfconsciously
sing. It is intermittently brilliant, frequently off key, but never mocked.
There is a PS2, Nintendo Wii and numerous games, none of which is kept under lock and key. In four years,
since the centre opened, not even a pencil has been stolen, staff say.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
McGoldrick also feels that that the violence portrayed in the film which became the focus of a media
firestorm is replicated across most communities in Scotland. The problem appears worse in Easterhouse, he
says, because the lack of alternative options for the children makes fighting appear to be the exclusive
pastime
"What we were trying to do is let people see how it is. No kidology, no glamorising. This is what happens in
every single major area of Glasgow, and you have to start realising this," he says.
The DVD's aim was to teach people about the dangers of gangs, without tarring a single area, he adds.
"Stop targeting Easterhouse. Everybody relates us to gang fighting and knife culture. We have our problems
like everywhere else, but it is not just us."
Producer Marie Olesen stresses that the purpose of the film was to inform communities across the country of
the existence of the violence children can be exposed to.
"It was never meant to be about gang fighting in the east end of Glasgow at all. It is a city-wide problem, a
nationwide problem," she says.
The filmmakers, too, were concerned about the launch of the DVD being appropriated by the police, and
bothered that the tone of much of the coverage might be counterproductive.
Director Doug Aubrey points out that much of the negative perception of the area has been catalysed by the
presence of television crews, creating the very violence they expected to capture. "The usual thing is the
parachute filmmaking crews go in, and it is like the Pied Piper of Hamelin," he says. "Kids know a film crew
is about, they start to gather, and it will kick off. The film crew get what they want."
In contrast, when Autonomi were working with the Innerzone youngsters, their attitude was to shut the
cameras down if they appeared to be provoking "acting up" among the kids.
What no-one denies is that many local young people deal daily with the social problems that attach
themselves to economically deprived areas: family breakdown, addiction, STDs, lack of opportunity. The
drop off the other end from this point is sharp and final. Whether or not they see it that way themselves, they
willingly grasp the chance that is presented by the efforts of the Innerzone team.
"We give the young guys respect and responsibility. That is a big word. Responsibility is what they have
never had before, and they do take it well," he says.
The modern Hub community centre - the recipient of resources that will always be beyond Innerzone - is
around 100 yards away. Its facilities are open to pensioners, mothers, the addicted, but only a few timetabled
slots are available to young people per week, in sharp contrast to the home-from-home accessibility of
Innerzone.
McGoldrick lives locally, and is visible to the children in his off-duty time. His manner is paternal, but not
parental. The buzz in the centre proves there is something in the formula that is working. Given that the
children might only have the street as an alternative, it is no exaggeration to propose that the work of this
team is saving lives.
Innerzone staff member Sandie Adamstrong, whom some of the kids refer to as their "other mum" agrees
that the small achievements of the centre can and do have a profound impact. "We have guided a lot of the
kids down the right path," she says.
"If we weren't here, they might not be on such a straight path."
Stephen McGoldrick is a tough man, but he, too, takes his work personally "This is my family. I will protect
my family and respect them."
Concerns over the way the As It Is film was eventually used are now to be aired in a forum at Glasgow's
Centre for Contemporary Arts on Friday October 19, as part of Document V, Glasgow's documentary film
festival. The filmmakers, contributors, Innerzone, and other parties, including the police, will discuss the
challenges for filmmakers and ethics of newsgathering when the subject is of sensationalist nature.
The Herald Society contacted Strathclyde Police but they declined to comment.
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Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
THE GUARDIAN
In millions of Windows, the perfect Storm is gathering
By John Naughton
Sunday October 21, 2007
A spectre is haunting the net but, outside of techie circles, nobody seems to be talking about it. The threat it
represents to our security and wellbeing may be less dramatic than anything posed by global terrorism, but it
has the potential to wreak much more havoc. And so far, nobody has come up with a good idea on how to
counter it.
It's called the Storm worm. It first appeared at the beginning of the year, hidden in email attachments with
the subject line: '230 dead as storm batters Europe'. The PC of anyone who opened the attachment became
infected and was secretly enrolled in an ever-growing network of compromised machines called a 'botnet'.
The term 'bot' is a derivation of 'software robot', which is another way of saying that an infected machine
effectively becomes the obedient slave of its - illicit - owner. If your PC is compromised in this way then,
while you may own the machine, someone else controls it. And they can use it to send spam, to participate in
distributed denial-of-service attacks on banks, e-commerce or government websites, or for other even more
sinister purposes.
Storm has been spreading steadily since last January, gradually constructing a huge botnet. It affects only
computers running Microsoft Windows, but that means that more than 90 per cent of the world's PCs are
vulnerable. Nobody knows how big the Storm botnet has become, but reputable security professionals cite
estimates of between one million and 50 million computers worldwide. To date, the botnet has been used
only intermittently, which is disquieting: what it means is that someone, somewhere, is quietly building a
doomsday machine that can be rented out to the highest bidder, or used for purposes that we cannot yet
predict.
Of course, computer worms are an old story, which may explain why the mainstream media has paid
relatively little attention to what's been happening. Old-style worms - the ones with names like Sasser and
Slammer - were written by vandals or hackers and designed to spread as quickly as possible. Slammer, for
example, infected 75,000 computers in 10 minutes, and therefore attracted a lot of attention. The vigour of
the onslaught made it easier for anti-virus firms to detect the attack and come up with countermeasures. In
that sense, old-style worms were like measles - an infectious disease that shows immediate symptoms.
Storm is different. It spreads quietly, without drawing attention to itself. Symptoms don't appear
immediately, and an infected computer can lie dormant for a long time. 'If it were a disease,' says one expert,
Bruce Schneier, 'it would be more like syphilis, whose symptoms may be mild or disappear altogether, but
which will come back years later and eat your brain.'
Schneier thinks Storm represents 'the future of malware' because of the technical virtuosity of its design. For
example, it works rather like an ant colony, with separation of duties. Only a small fraction of infected hosts
spread the worm. A much smaller fraction are command-and-control servers; the rest stand by to receive
orders. By only allowing a small number of hosts to propagate the virus and act as command-and-control
servers, Storm is resilient against attack because even if those hosts shut down, the network remains largely
intact and other hosts can take over their duties.
More fiendishly, Storm doesn't have any noticeable performance impact on its hosts. Like a parasite, it needs
the host to be intact and healthy for its own survival. This makes it harder to detect, because users and
network administrators won't notice any abnormal behaviour most of the time.
And instead of having all hosts communicate with a central server or set of servers, Storm uses a peer-to-peer
networking protocol for its command-and-control servers. This makes the botnet much harder to disable
because there's no centralised control point to be identified and shut down.
It gets worse. Storm's delivery mechanism changes regularly. It began as PDF spam, then morphed into ecards and YouTube invites. It then started posting blog-comment spam, again trying to trick viewers into
clicking infected links. Similarly, the Storm email changes all the time, with new, topical subject lines and
text. And last month Storm began attacking anti-spam sites focused on identifying it. It has also attacked the
personal website of a malware expert who published an analysis of how it worked.
At the moment, nobody knows who's behind this. Is it a Russian mafia operation? An al-Qaeda scheme? The
really creepy thing is that, to date, the controllers of Storm have used it for such relatively trivial purposes.
The suspicion has to be that they are biding their time, waiting for the moment when, say, 100 million naive
Windows users have clicked on an infected link and unwittingly added their machines to the botnet.
Only then will we know what a perfect storm in cyberspace is like.
7
THE HERALD
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
7
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
This chilling trade must be broken
by DAVID BELCHER
Not to be confused with deadpan comedy droll Paul Merton, tall blond history fan Paul Murton strode
breathlessly around Skye looking like Sting's brother. His task? To profile the ancient and bloody clan feud
between the MacLeods and the MacDonalds.
What did Paul teach us in an all-too-brief 30 minutes? Chiefly, that ethnic cleansing visited Scotland 400
years ago; that the "Crotach" in Alasdair Crotach MacLeod, eighth clan chief, is Gaelic for hunchback; and
that two blokes - Murton and an Aberdeen Uni historian - talking about historical feasts while pretending to
eat a meal is a recipe for distraction and disaster (too many meaningless cut-aways to hauf-chowed fish,
continuity problems over knives and forks, mumbly bits through mouthfuls of tatty).
More recent history was more unpalatable in China's Stolen Children. There was no happy ending to the reallife detective mystery at the documentary's core: Chen Jie, aged five, remained just as lost as he had been for
seven months before his parents hired a pudgy ex-cop, Ju, to bring him home. It's reckoned 70,000 children
are abducted and sold on to other families annually in China, a consequence of rural poverty and native
sexism - everybody wants a little boy, no-one wants little girls - plus the Chinese government's draconian
birth-control policies.
China's Stolen Children was the creation of Kate Blewett and Brian Woods, who, in 1995, made The Dying
Rooms, a harrowing televisual record of the Chinese state's former belief that orphaned infants were better
left to die in its hellish official nurseries, tied to chairs. The Dying Rooms softened official attitudes,
prompting more adoptions. Let's hope China's Stolen Children occasions similarly humane improvement. No
longer should Chinese bureaucracy turn a blind eye to mass abduction. Only the hardest-hearted, flintiesteyed could remain unmoved by the unresolved grief of Chen Jie's parents.
Maybe, like me, you misted up early on over the everyday maternal worry voiced by Chen Jie's mum. "When
it is raining, I wonder if he is getting wet," she stated with heartbreaking and powerless concern, thereafter
dissolving into wracked sobs.
There was misery even in the one happy story of rescue and reunion we saw. Now aged six and safely facing
the cameras back in his family living room, Chong Jang had been stolen from outside his home by a man in a
car laden with three other little abductees. "I thought mum and dad had sold me," Chong Jang told us,
recalling his theft. This was followed by a glittery-eyed stare into the distance and a silent pout of the little
lad's lips, gestures that were eloquent testimony to his feelings of gloom and suffering.
But what of the ostensible "star" of China's Stolen Children, Ju, the detective? We saw him wearily chainsmoking; practising his expertise at martial arts - or shouting while slowly hitting a punchbag - and
reassuring his aged mother that he was about to retire from the dangerous business of combating traffickers.
Ju did have one victory, covertly recorded on green night-vision lens, plucking a teenage girl from captors
about to sell her into some form of slavery. Sadly, though, Ju made a much less convincing figure than the
programme's other featured player, the plausible Wang Li, a matter-of-fact trafficker in stolen children and
deceived young women ("modest, innocent girls with simple clothes").
As he admitted, Wang Li had once sold one of his own sons and thus felt no compunction about selling other
people's. "It's easy to be a bad man, but it's hard to be a good one," he reasoned with chilling logic.
12:01am today
8
THE HERALD
Welcome to the vroom with a view.
By MARISA DUFFY
As the traffic lights on the Royal Mile turn to green, every head in the vicinity swivels to find out just what
sort of vehicle is making the big roar. Mouths fall uniformly open as the banana-yellow trike, with its huge
headlights and shiny chrome trappings, makes its way towards the Scottish Parliament building. Forget bus
tours and self-drive: trike tours are the newest, and most novel, way to explore Scotland's scenery.
A chauffeur-driven trike offers the countryside from a biker's-eye view, with all the rubber-necking perks of
being a passenger. Winding our way up Calton Hill above the spires and rooftops of Edinburgh, we pick up
speed on the open road. With room for two passengers behind the driver, it's like Easy Rider in triplicate.
Edinburgh-based Trike Tours Scotland was set up last year by Tracy Ferguson and Gordon Shon. "We
spotted a niche in the market for activities that couples could do together, " says Shon. "There are plenty of
single-sex activities which cater for stag weekends and the like, but few organised tours are just for couples."
Before climbing onto the 1600cc trike, passengers are given leather jackets, gloves and helmets with
integrated headsets which allow them to speak to each other and listen to music. Tours include Loch
Lomond, Perthshire, the Trossachs, Edinburgh to North Berwick and a Burns tour of Ayrshire, but the team
are open to suggestions from customers for tailor-made routes. "We try to avoid motorways, simply because
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
8
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
they are boring to drive on, and congested areas - but otherwise we'll consider it," says Shon, one of two
chauffeurs and a keen biker for years.
Around 70% of customers live in Scotland; the other 30% are tourists. Many bookings are for special
occasions; others are by people who've always dreamed of hitting the open road but never got a bike. "I had a
50-year-old woman who was in tears of joy at the end of the tour," recalls Shon. "She had always wanted to
ride on a motorbike. She told me she felt like she was flying."
Rather surprisingly, though, a lot of the customers are fully fledged bikers themselves. "A lot of bike owners
come on the tours with their wives because they are keen to share the experience," says Shon. "On their own
bike they have to watch the road for every pebble, but on the trike they can look around and enjoy the view."
Tours involve a pit stop at a viewpoint, where the chauffeur produces a tray with hot chocolate and
shortbread from a compartment in the back of the bike.
After a one-hour jaunt, our tour is almost over. As we turn into Princes Street, the low sun is bright and Lou
Reed's Perfect Day fills my high-tech helmet. It's hard to disagree with the sentiment.
One man who is familiar with the buzz of travelling by motorbike is Charley Boorman. Actor, biking fanatic
and pal of Ewan McGregor, Boorman has been messing around with bikes since he was in short trousers. "I
was about seven years old when I first got into motorbikes. The first one I rode was a little monkey bike that
my mate Jason Connery was forcing me to push around. My dad was making a film with Sean Connery at
the time. We eventually got it going and I got a go on it. I remember going past my dad, heading straight for
a barbed- wire fence. As I went past, he pulled me off the bike by the cuff of my neck and it went flying into
the fence."
Undeterred, he jumped at the chance to have a go on a motocross bike in rural Ireland, where he grew up, a
few years later. "I kept hearing this two-stoke engine and I eventually plucked up the courage to ask this
young guy for a go. I rode around the field a few times, fell off - and was hooked for life."
Boorman now rides a BMW 1200 Adventure and a Beta 400 off-road bike, and has lost none of his youthful
enthusiasm. "It's a passion that comes from inside you. When you're on a motorbike, you're amongst the
elements straight away and there are no distractions - you're concentrating on where you're going. The
freedom on the road is beautiful. You can sit there on the bike and you immediately get all the smells so you
really feel part of the whole thing.
"We live very busy lives now and never have the opportunity to sit back and do nothing. Sitting on that big
open road with big miles to do and just you and your thoughts - it can be really invigorating."
Boorman and McGregor met while working on a film called Serpent's Kiss in Ireland 12 years ago, and their
first conversation was about bikes. They've been friends ever since. On May 12 they set off on a 15,000-mile
journey from John O'Groats to Cape Town. Highlights of their 85-day trip will feature in a new television
series called The Long Way Down. "The Scottish part was amazing," says Boorman. "I've been going up to
Scotland for the last 25 years, to Inverness and the Black Isle, but hadn't really spent any time in that very
northern part. It has some of the most beautiful riding in the world. It's stunning."
Indeed, in a recent survey by the DVLA, 1500 bikers voted Scottish routes as the top three bike vistas in the
UK. The A82 at Glen Coe came top of the poll, while Bealach na Ba, just off the A696, and the stunning
Heights of Kinlochewe along the A832 were the second and third most popular routes.
VisitScotland has realised the appeal of the country's roads for two-wheeled tourists. To make it easier for
bikers to plan a tour of Scotland, it launched the Bikers Welcome scheme and has now linked it to a new
search facility on its website. Visitors can scan a database of accommodation in Scotland to identify places
that are specifically geared to cater for bikers and their machines.
So far, more than 100 accommodation providers have signed up. To be included, establishments must offer
additional facilities for bikers including a separate space for drying outdoor clothing and footwear; visor,
bike and boot cleaning facilities; a de-grease hand wash; safe storage; and hard standing for bikes.
Colin Houston, quality development manager at VisitScotland, helped develop the scheme. "The touring
motorcycle market is increasingly valuable as more people, often with quite high levels of disposable
income, take up the hobby," he explains.
"As well as providing a useful service to bikers coming to Scotland, the scheme also aims to challenge
preconceived ideas of bikers that some people may still have."
Denny MacKean, one of the owners of the Scarinish Hotel on the Isle of Tiree, was also involved in
developing the scheme. "Most of what we do for bikers and other specialist markets is common sense," she
says.
"We have bikers in the family and we asked bikers who came to stay what would make their trip easier. It's
the little things we do that can make such a big difference to someone's trip, such as providing sturdy hangers
for heavy biking gear, and shortbread biscuits in the shape of motorbikes on arrival, which are always
popular with our biker guests."
9
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
THE TELEGRAPH
Property in France: C'est la folie
By Michael Wright
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 01/11/2007
Waving au revoir to my old life from a window on the Orient Express. Michael Wright reports from rural France
Sunday lunchtime: Alice and I arrive at Jolibois station, ready to set off on our brief honeymoon, or "moon of
honey" as the French put it.
I feel as if I need several weeks of R&R to allow time for some of the tight-wound wedding tension to slip from
my humming shoulders.
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But there is a limit to how long we can expect my parents to look after the dog, the cat, the Rastafarians and the
Egg Squad at La Folie.
"Les animaux, c'est l'esclavage," as the locals say. Animals are slavery. Digby is a full-time job and willing
parents are a godsend.
"May we cross?" I ask the man in the ticket office, pointing at the twin railway tracks between the low-slung
platforms.
Like many stations in rural France, the one at Jolibois looks like something out of an old cowboy film. The man
glances up at his clock, shrugs and nods.
And so we pick our way across the tracks and stand waiting for the train, excited as children. When it comes, I
recognise it as the streamlined projectile we occasionally see thundering across the level crossing at the bottom of
the drive to La Folie.
How strange to see it here – a spaceship docked at a gipsy encampment – and to step inside this object we have
only ever known as a shape passing by. It feels a bit like climbing into the Concorde prototype at Duxford, only
with better upholstery.
This thing may be just a local shuttle with a couple of carriages but it looks like a bullet train. It travels at the
speed of a bullet, too, albeit a bullet being carried in the mouth of a moderately unfit dog.
And – like a dog – it stops in the strangest places to relieve itself of its passengers.
I look at my watch. We've allowed plenty of time to make our connection in Paris but at this rate we may not get
there until February.
Paris at last. And here, amid the grime and the bustle of the Gare de l'Est, at the end of a comically short offcut of
red carpet, the polished midnight-blue carriages of the Orient Express stand waiting.
Having spent several minutes admiring the polished marquetry in our compartment, fiddling with its polished
switches and marvelling at the polished multilingual charm of our steward – who, for reasons of symmetry, I'd
love to say was Polish, but actually hails from Estonia – we shuffle down the train's thickly carpeted corridors to
the bar car, pretending not to be sneaking peeks into other people's compartments through doors left tantalisingly
ajar.
After all the mud and sheep muck of La Folie, I cannot help feeling as if I am in the wrong room, what with all
this glitz and velvet and taps that don't leak.
I also can't help feeling that I should have checked whether my suit still fitted before Alice packed it for me.
There's not a lot of call for a dinner jacket in Jolibois.
Luckily I'm wearing a waistcoat, too, so I should be able to undo a surreptitious button or two if everything gets a
bit snug by the time pudding arrives.
Beyond the windows, the lights of French towns flicker past; shooting stars amid the swaying reflections of the
antique lamps within.
"Look, there's Castorama," we both exclaim, because the sudden appearance of the DIY chain's familiar blue-andyellow sign – a beacon to anyone who has ever attempted to renovate an old house in France – comes as such an
exotic surprise when you're sitting in a 1920s railway car, sipping a gin and tonic with your gorgeous wife of
precisely 24 hours, in your ever-so-slightly-too-tight glad rags.
You'd almost think someone had placed it there as a Surrealist joke, like a Duchamp urinal or an elephant waterskiing down the Grand Canal.
These things never seemed beautiful to me before: magnesium-white street lights, haloed with mist; the flickering
green cross of a pharmacie.
I hold Alice's hand as, behind us, the pianist begins to ripple out something I dimly recognise from my dad's old
1940s song books.
And then the illuminated black-and-yellow hoarding of a Hotel Formule 1 flashes by, touting chambres for €21 a
night and Canal+ included in the price of your scrubbed-down plastic cell.
I stayed in just such a place, in my old life, the night before I found La Folie. How far away it all now seems, just
on the other side of this glass.
C'est La Folie (Bantam), is Michael Wright's account of how he changed his life.
www.lafolie.co.uk
10
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
10
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
THE NEW YORK TIMES
After Stumbling, Mattel Cracks Down in China
By LOUISE STORY
August 30, 2007
EL SEGUNDO, Calif., Aug. 22 The alarm bell went off for Mattel just as it was preparing to announce that
it would recall 1.5 million Chinese-made toys tainted with lead paint.
Surrounded by boxes of Barbie dolls, Hot Wheels cars and other sample toys, Thomas A. Debrowski,
Mattel's executive vice president for worldwide operations, was leading a tense early morning trans-Pacific
telephone conference with his team in Hong Kong, where it was 9 p.m. At the time, recalled Mr. Debrowski,
Mattel thought it was dealing with at most "a single failure, from a single vendor who made a big mistake."
But in the middle of the meeting on July 30, Mattel learned otherwise.
"I've got bad news," interrupted David Lewis, senior vice president for Asian operations, who had just taken
a call from the company's safety lab in Shenzhen, China, where toys made by outside companies are tested.
"We've had another failure. It was one of the toys in the Pixar cars."
That was the moment that threw Mattel into turmoil, forcing the company long considered one of the more
successful Western manufacturers in China to recognize that it had more of a systemic problem than simply
an isolated case of one bad paint supplier.
Now Mattel, which appears to have stumbled in part because it had become overconfident about its ability to
operate in China without major problems, is in crisis mode. Toys for the coming holiday shopping season are
already shipping across the Pacific, and Mattel wants to catch any other problems that may have slipped
through before those toys land on store shelves and cause even greater damage to its reputation.
A big problem was that some of Mattel's trusted vendors had turned to cheaper paint suppliers outside the
company's approved list. Mattel is now racing to increase its supply and product testing, no longer giving
local contractors several months at a time to do the tests themselves.
Mattel executives are openly saying that there may be more recalls, if the company finds more problems in
its investigation. And Mattel has quietly carted loads of toys and dolls to its own factories in Mexico to
recheck the ones that have arrived from Chinese contractors in recent weeks.
"We have had recalls every year since I've been here," Robert A. Eckert, Mattel's chief executive, said in an
interview at corporate headquarters here. But "the second recall was different; it was going to receive a
different level of scrutiny."
With its back-to-back recalls, Mattel the world's largest toy maker and the home, among others, of FisherPrice toys, American Girls dolls, Matchbox cars and, of course, Barbie has been pitched into the center of a
boiling debate over the safety of products made in China.
The ever-growing pile of products recalled this year has sent consumers digging through their pantries and
toy chests, scouting for everything from Thomas & Friends toy trains and children's jewelry to toothpaste,
dog food and, most recently, SpongeBob SquarePants journals. Wal-Mart recently disclosed that one of the
biggest concerns of its shoppers is the safety of toys from China.
One mother was so infuriated by the recalls that she brought her children to Mattel headquarters this month
with a car full of Mattel toys demanding that the company sort through them to tell her which ones were safe.
(Mattel found that all of her toys were fine.)
"Mattel is very vulnerable in the short term," said Allen P. Adamson, managing director at Landor
Associates, a brand-management firm, "because the spotlight is on them and the China issue is such a hot
issue."
Mattel has been manufacturing in Asia far longer than many companies (the first Barbie was made there in
1959). That led to long-term relationships with certain Chinese contractors, many spanning decades.
Paradoxically, that appears to have contributed to Mattel's problems: the longer it outsourced to a factory
supplier with good results, the looser the leash became.
During Mr. Eckert's tenure, the company has scaled back the number of companies it uses and the fraction of
Mattel toys that they make, but it allowed its more reliable suppliers to do their own regular toy testing with
spot tests by Mattel only every three months.
The two contractors that caused this month's recalls were among the most trusted. Lee Der Industrial, the
supplier involved in the first recall, had worked with Mattel for 15 years. The Early Light Industrial
Company, the contractor that made the Sarge cars in the second recall, has supplied toys for 20 years.
Mattel first got wind of its China problem in early July when a European retailer discovered lead paint on a
toy, leading to Mattel's first recall of 1.5 million toys globally on Aug. 2. Mattel shut its production at Lee
Der, which made the 83 different recalled toys.
The recall on Aug. 14 was not as large, affecting 436,000 Pixar toy cars, but, combined with a separate recall
of millions of toys with tiny magnets that had harmed some children who swallowed them, the blow to
Mattel's public reputation was substantial. The Pixar toys were made by yet another contractor, Early Light,
which had subcontracted production of the car's roof and tires to a company called Hong Li Da.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
11
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
In both cases, the Chinese companies broke Mattel's rules on what paint they were allowed to use. Mattel has
certified only eight paint suppliers. Lee Der bought lead-tainted paint from an uncertified company. Hong Li
Da, the subcontractor, used uncertified paint when a tub provided by Early Light ran out.
"I think it's the fault of the vendor who didn't follow the procedures that we've been living with for a long
time," Mr. Debrowski said.He readily acknowledges the rising costs that companies in China are facing.
"In the last three or five years, you've seen labor prices more than double, raw material prices double or
triple," he said, "and I think that there's a lot of pressure on guys that are working at the margin to try to save
money."
But isn't Mattel putting pressure on its vendors to save money? "No, absolutely not," he replied. "We insist
that they continue to use certified paint from certified vendors, and we pay for that, and we're perfectly
willing to pay for that."On the day of the second recall, Mattel announced a three-point plan that tightened its
control of production, cracked down on the unauthorized use of subcontractors and provided for Mattel to
test products itself, rather than rely on its contractors. The plan also included testing every batch of paint.
"We do realize the need for increased vigilance, increased surveillance," Jim Walter, who reports to Mr.
Debrowski on quality assurance, said on the day of the announcement.
Mattel makes its best-known toys, like Barbie dolls, in its own 12 factories. But even as it has increased the
share of toys it makes itself to about half, it still relies on roughly 30 to 40 vendors to make the other half.
Mattel now realizes it was not watching those companies closely enough, executives here said.
Mattel vetted the contractors, but it did not fully understand the extent to which some had in turn
subcontracted to other companies which in turn had subcontracted to even more. Mattel required its vendors
to list subcontractors, so Mattel could visit them, but Mattel is investigating whether that procedure has been
followed. A number of companies whose factories Mattel had never visited may have had a hand in making
the toys that were shipped around the world.
Out of the public eye, Mattel is cleaning house. The company has fired four subcontractors and is evaluating
more. Mattel also moved to enforce a rule that subcontractors cannot hire two and three layers of suppliers
below them.
Mattel executives in Hong Kong are trying to figure out how many subcontractors became part of its lineup.
Mattel's Hong Kong office is also investigating to find a common thread among the lead recalls in China.
Mattel has 200 full-time employees devoted to supervising and training Chinese contractors but the Mattel
employees are not stationed permanently at those factories. As part of its effort to rebuild its image, Mattel is
emphasizing that it is less dependent on Chinese contractors than most toy makers. It has run ads around the
world featuring Mr. Eckert's vow to do better." There aren't many companies that own their own factories,"
Mr. Eckert said in an interview in his office, "and there aren't many companies that manufacture outside of
China." Mattel closed its last American factory, originally part of the Fisher-Price division, in 2002. The bulk
of its products have long been made in Asia. In the 1980s, Mattel decided to take more control of its core
products, like Barbie and Hot Wheels cars, and built and purchased several factories. About 65 percent of
Mattel products are made in China now. Or, as a Mattel executive rephrased it, more than a third of Mattel
toys are made outside of China. Many Barbie dolls, for example, are produced in Indonesia.
Mattel executives showed off a factory in Tijuana, Mexico, escorting a reporter to demonstrate a safety lab
with drop machines, temperature checks, not to mention tests for lead in paint. Fisher-Price's Little People
houses as well as Barbie playhouses are made there, largely because shipping costs from Asia for larger
products add too much to the cost.
Mattel plans to buy large numbers of a portable lead detector that can be used in all its factories as well as
those of its contractors. In the last few weeks, the safety lab in Tijuana has been used to double-check the
work of Mattel's Chinese suppliers. "It's to make absolutely sure this issue is behind us," Mr. Eckert said in
his office, surrounded by portraits of Barbie by artists like Andy Warhol and Peter Max.
Mr. Eckert has improved the company's financial performance, but, looking back, he is happy that he resisted
calls from analysts early in his tenure to sell off Mattel's 12 factories and outsource all production.
When he lectures at business schools, Mr. Eckert often cites Johnson & Johnson's 1982 recall of Tylenol as
an example of how to do things right and recover from an initial disaster.
"It is a great example of building trust," he said. "It became kind of a personal mission of the C.E.O. at the
time, saying, 'Here is the problem, here is what we're doing.' And it was clear that it really was not about the
money."
Mattel's costs of doing business, he acknowledges, will go up with the additional level of testing. But the
price, he says, will be worth it.
Mr. Eckert also has a new addition to the shelf behind his desk. Next to a portrait of his 16-year-old daughter
is Sarge, the army-green toy jeep that Mattel recalled last week.
Mr. Debrowski, Mattel's head of manufacturing, also keeps Sarge on his desk.
"Just to remember, you know," he said.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
12
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
Published in the Business section on August 29, 2007.
11
THE TELEGRAPH
Christmas dinner: Turkey without tears
Glenda Cooper had never cooked Christmas dinner - until TV chef Mary Berry showed her the five easy
steps to kitchen perfection
"Well, dear," says the author of 65 bestselling cookery books, "if the worst comes to the worst, at least on
Christmas day everyone will have had a drink. So they won't be as fussy as usual."
Berry is coming to terms with the fact that I have never cooked Christmas dinner. I am not alone. A survey
last year revealed that 15 million women try to avoid cooking the Christmas meal. Given that another survey
calculated that the blowout takes nine hours to prepare, can you blame us?
But still, it takes dedication to have never done it. Years of ingenuity, in fact. Working the 6am-2pm shift on
the 25th one year. Arranging a family skiing holiday on another. I even got married just before Christmas,
which gave me another year's get out-of jail-free card. Now, finally, I have run out of excuses.
So I have turned to Berry to save me from humiliation. My request is simple: teach a Christmas ingénue,
with no natural talent, how to prepare canapés, main course, pudding and leftovers on Christmas Day. Any
easy solutions, short cuts or flashy diversions gratefully accepted.
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Berry, whom Anthony Worrall Thompson once described as the "most competitive chef" he knew, and who
claims never to have had a Christmas dinner go wrong, assures me she is up to the challenge.
Together we boil the day down to five infallible tips. "You want to be with your family at Christmas - going
to church, opening presents, all the loveliness of the day," says Berry. "This will ensure you will."
Armed with her five tips, and patient coaching, I am sure I will. I'm just not sure whether my family will
want to spend the day with me once they realise I'm cooking.
MARY BERRY'S SURVIVAL TIPS
Be prepared
Christmas Day should not begin at 4.30am with a worried cook slaving over the stove, says Berry. I don't
have the heart to tell her the worried cook is more likely to be hiding under the duvet.
Her solution: do as much as possible the day before: deal with the stuffing, potatoes, mulled wine and
chocolate roulade. My heart sinks. How are you meant to do the last-minute rush for your brother's present if
you're cooking?
Distract your guests
My theory is if my guests eat enough canapés, they may not notice if the turkey is three hours late. But I
cannot think of anything worse than fiddling around with nouvelle cuisine-type dainties when I could be
getting stuck in to the mulled wine.
Berry suggests her ultra-simple Parma ham twist: take slices of ham, remove the fat, spread with goats
cheese, add a sprig of rocket and roll up. It tastes delicious, looks impressive and takes all of three minutes
from start to finish. Bingo.
Keep it simple
The turkey is the centrepiece of the meal and the downfall of most cooks. Berry is determined to make mine
foolproof. Forget trussing it up, she says: "It's so boring. I don't mend socks so why should I start sewing
with a needle and thread over Christmas? Without trussing the heat can also reach the centre more quickly."
She rejects placing the turkey breast side down to start off with, turning half-way through. "It's nonsense. It's
Christmas Day, you're nervous, you've got a drink in your right hand, the bird is big and heavy. Fat ends up
on the floor; talk to hospitals and see how many people end up there on Christmas Day."
Instead, concentrate on making sure the bird doesn't end up dry and overcooked. "Baste it from time to time.
Keep it loosely covered with foil until you come to brown it towards the end of the cooking process.
And use a meat thermometer: the temperature inside the turkey should be 75-80C; 90C is too high - it gives a
dry result and overcooks the meat."
All straightforward. But I'm not out of the woods yet. To serve a 14lb bird (you should allow 1-1.5lb per
person if you want leftovers) at 2pm, you must get up at 7.40am.
This gives you enough time to take the bird out of the fridge and allow it to come to room temperature. Place
in a pre-heated oven for 40 mins at 220C/Fan 200C, Gas 7, before reducing the heat to 160C/140C Fan and
Gas 3 and cook for 3.5 hours, before a final blast at 220C for half an hour to crisp the skin.
Remove and allow to rest for half an hour. Not surprisingly, Berry swears the best present a cook can be
given is a ''pinger" - an electronic timer.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
For the nightmare of carving remember two words: your husband. Sorry: sawing action. Take off the leg, get
the knife as close to the bird's breast as possible and saw back and forth. Simple as that.
Impress with subtle twists
Ringing the changes with vegetables is a sure way of making out you are a better cook, says Berry. Cut the
Brussel sprouts in half, boil them and then toss in melted butter and pine nuts.
Serve dauphinoise rather than roast potatoes and a chocolate roulade instead of Christmas pud. Berry's tip is
to underwhip the cream for the filling - she uses a fabulous retro navy blue Kitchen Aid food mixer but any
electric whisk will do.
Berry has no problems with rolling up the roulade. "It cracks whatever you do - that's part of the charm!" she
says with chirpy assurance. "Think of it like a Catherine Wheel. Score a mark about an inch in along the
short edge and use greaseproof paper to help you roll it up."
No-stress leftovers
Berry always advises to get a turkey rather than a goose because "there's nothing left on the goose and you
don't want to be starting from scratch". She suggests her simple Five-Spice Mango Turkey for Boxing Day.
"This is perfect: light and fresh and there is not a drop of mayonnaise in sight. Not that you should be
thinking about calories on Christmas Day."
This is the one dish I feel confident about. It involves whizzing mangos, peppadew peppers, mango chutney,
Greek yoghurt, spices and Tabasco sauce in a processor for 20 seconds.
I nick my finger with one of Berry's fearsome knives, and nearly knock the peppadews on the floor but
nothing else goes wrong. I think I may have got the hang of this Christmas malarkey.
After a full day chez Berry, I have no fears about the canapés or leftover spicy Turkey dish. The stuffing
looks fairly straightforward. I will set three alarms to get up for 7.40am (or perhaps, get my husband to do
so). As for the chocolate roulade, forget it, I'm buying mince pies.
I thank Berry for her time, eat a final piece of roulade, and put on my coat to leave. Her Kitchen Aid
suddenly emits a large bang and smoke starts wisping out of it.
I swear I didn't touch it.
12
THE NEW YORK TIMES
Are Your Jeans Sagging? Go Directly to Jail.
By NIKO KOPPEL
August 31, 2007
JAMARCUS MARSHALL, a 17-year-old high school sophomore in Mansfield, La., believes that no one
should be able to tell him how low to wear his jeans. "It's up to the person who's wearing the pants," he said.
Mr. Marshall's sagging pants, a style popularized in the early 1990s by hip-hop artists, are becoming a
criminal offense in a growing number of communities, including his own.
Starting in Louisiana, an intensifying push by lawmakers has determined pants worn low enough to expose
underwear poses a threat to the public, and they have enacted indecency ordinances to stop it.
Since June 11, sagging pants have been against the law in Delcambre, La., a town of 2,231 that is 80 miles
southwest of Baton Rouge. The style carries a fine of as much as $500 or up to a six-month sentence. "We
used to wear long hair, but I don't think our trends were ever as bad as sagging," said Mayor Carol
Broussard.
An ordinance in Mansfield, a town of 5,496 near Shreveport, subjects offenders to a fine (as much as $150
plus court costs) or jail time (up to 15 days). Police Chief Don English said the law, which takes effect Sept.
15, will set a good civic image.
Behind the indecency laws may be the real issue the hip-hop style itself, which critics say is worn as a badge
of delinquency, with its distinctive walk conveying thuggish swagger and a disrespect for authority. Also at
work is the larger issue of freedom of expression and the questions raised when fashion moves from being
merely objectionable to illegal.
Sagging began in prison, where oversized uniforms were issued without belts to prevent suicide and their use
as weapons. The style spread through rappers and music videos, from the ghetto to the suburbs and around
the world.
Efforts to outlaw sagging in Virginia and statewide in Louisiana in 2004, failed, usually when opponents
invoked a right to self-expression. But the latest legislative efforts have taken a different tack, drawing on
indecency laws, and their success is inspiring lawmakers in other states.
In the West Ward of Trenton, Councilwoman Annette Lartigue is drafting an ordinance to fine or enforce
community service in response to what she sees as the problem of exposing private parts in public.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
"It's a fad like hot pants; however, I think it crosses the line when a person shows their backside," Ms.
Lartigue said. "You can't legislate how people dress, but you can legislate when people begin to become
indecent by exposing their body parts."
The American Civil Liberties Union has been steadfast in its opposition to dress restrictions. Debbie
Seagraves, the executive director of the A.C.L.U. of Georgia said, "I don't see any way that something
constitutional could be crafted when the intention is to single out and label one style of dress that originated
with the black youth culture, as an unacceptable form of expression."
School districts have become more aggressive in enforcing dress bans, as the courts have given them greater
latitude. Restrictions have been devised for jeans, miniskirts, long hair, piercing, logos with drug references
and gang-affiliated clothing including colors, hats and jewelry.
Dress codes are showing up in unexpected places. The National Basketball Association now stipulates that
no sports apparel, sunglasses, headgear, exposed chains or medallions may be worn at league-sponsored
events. After experiencing a brawl that spilled into the stands and generated publicity headaches, the league
sought to enforce a business-casual dress code, saying that hip-hop clothing projected an image that alienated
middle-class audiences.
According to Andrew Bolton, the curator at the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
fashions tend to be decried when they "challenge the conservative morality of a society."
Not since the zoot suit has a style been greeted with such strong disapproval. The exaggerated boxy long coat
and tight-cuffed pants, started in the 1930s, was the emblematic style of a subculture of young urban
minorities. It was viewed as unpatriotic and flouted a fabric conservation order during World War II. The
clothing was at the center of what were called Zoot Suit Riots in Los Angeles, racially motivated beatings of
Hispanic youths by sailors. The youths were stripped of their garments, which were burned in the street.
Following a pattern of past fashion bans, the sagging prohibitions are seen by some as racially motivated
because the wearers are young, predominantly African-American men.
Yet, this legislation has been proposed largely by African-American officials. It may speak to a generation
gap. Michael Eric Dyson, a professor of sociology at Georgetown University and the author of "Know What
I Mean?: Reflections on Hip Hop," said, "They've bought the myth that sagging pants represents an offensive
lifestyle which leads to destructive behavior."
Last week, Atlanta Councilman C. T. Martin sponsored an amendment to the city's indecency laws to ban
sagging, which he called an epidemic. "We are trying to craft a remedy," said Mr. Martin, who sees the
problem as "a prison mentality."
But Larry Harris, Jr., 28, a musician from Miami, who stood in oversize gear outside a hip-hop show in
Times Square, denied that prison style was his inspiration. "I think what you have here is people who don't
understand the language of hip-hop," he said.
A dress code ordinance proposed in Stratford, Conn., by Councilman Alvin O'Neal was rejected at a Town
Council meeting last Monday, drawing criticism that the law was unconstitutional and unjustly encouraged
racial profiling. Many residents agreed that the town had more pressing issues.
Benjamin Chavis, the former executive director of the N.A.A.C.P., said, "I think to criminalize how a person
wears their clothing is more offensive than what the remedy is trying to do."
Dr. Chavis, who is often pictured in an impeccable suit and tie among the baggy outfits of the hip-hop elite,
is a chairman of the Hip Hop Summit Action Network, a coalition he founded with the music mogul Russell
Simmons. He said that the coalition will challenge the ordinances in court.
"The focus should be on cleaning up the social conditions that the sagging pants comes out of," he said.
"That they wear their pants the way they do is a statement of the reality that they're struggling with on a dayto-day basis."
Published in the Styles section on August 30, 2007.
13
THE NEW YORK TIMES
MTV Aims to Return to Its Days of Glory
September 7, 2007
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
By JEFF LEEDS
Agata Adamska
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The singer Lily Allen and Tim Cash of MTV announcing Video Music Award nominees last month at a
hotel pool in Las Vegas.
LOS ANGELES, Sept. 5 Pop culture oddsmakers might have trouble figuring out who faces a tougher road
on the comeback trail: Britney Spears or the television giant that helped vault her to stardom, MTV. Both
will be trying to recapture better days on Sunday as the music network shows its annual presentation of the
Video Music Awards.
After reigning as a primary tastemaker for years, MTV lately has suffered some stumbles (though, unlike
Ms. Spears's, they haven't become paparazzi fodder). For one thing, critics say the Video Music Awards,
intended as a raucous counterpoint to more staid ceremonies, has become stale itself; the show has endured a
four-year ratings slump, including a 28 percent drop last year.
Another issue is the channel's slow response to the explosion of video and social networking online. Music
fans are regularly watching music videos on its Web site, mtv.com, which drew about 8.5 million visitors in
July. But Yahoo's music service, which has long showcased videos, attracted 23 million, and MySpace's
music site drew more than 21 million.
To many, the missteps have meant that MTV for once has had trouble keeping up with the shifts in how
young fans live, watch and consume. "They were the innovators, and now they're kind of a step behind," said
Laura Caraccioli-Davis, executive vice president of entertainment for the media-buying firm Starcom
MediaVest. "The brands that are talking to this audience are forced to innovate every day. MTV stayed still
for a second too long."
In response, MTV executives are doing what people do when they're hungry for a quick change in fortune:
they are heading to Las Vegas. This year's Video Music Awards will be shown live from the Palms Casino
Resort (where MTV also recorded a recent season of its reality series "The Real World") and will be
substantially revamped. Instead of the usual production built on a single stage, MTV is taking a shotgun
approach, scattering cameras around the hotel, with artists performing and receiving awards in decorated
suites and the hotel's own concert hall.
MTV has also shortened the show to two hours, packing in performances by artists like Fall Out Boy, 50
Cent and a resurgent Ms. Spears, who will perform her new single, "Gimme More."
MTV has a big stack of chips on the table this year. In shaking up its showcase event, the channel is not only
aiming to reverse declines in the awards show's viewership, but also to generate buzz about several new
efforts to connect with tech-savvy young viewers drawn to upstart brands like YouTube.
The show's loss of cachet has paralleled the overall decline of the recording industry, which has long relied
on exposing its artists to mass audiences to rack up platinum sales. As a result, MTV may be saddled with
the burden of trying to extract a wide audience from a splintered market where no genre is king.
"There isn't any one movement right now, but rather this gigantic appetite for all things music," said Amy
Doyle, MTV's senior vice president of music and talent. "The key is being everywhere, but being everywhere
in the way the audience wants."
MTV's own correspondents, as well as fans at the awards show, will snap candid camera-phone moments
and post them on a new area of MTV's Web site called "You R Here." The most compelling photos or video
recordings from Las Vegas may be presented during the channel's news segments. Eventually, the site could
blossom into MTV's answer to YouTube.
MTV has its own take on computer-animated "virtual" worlds as well. Even before the awards show takes
place, fans can go "in-world" through mtv.com and tour the Palms' suites and, on Saturday, see performances
by computerized re-creations of acts including Boys Like Girls and Peter, Bjorn & John.
Television viewers will see big changes too. To start, there will be only one presentation of the awards
program in its original form. In a departure from MTV's practice of plastering the channel with repeat
showings, programmers this year are hoping to attract interest with alternate versions.
The first will be shown with running commentary from celebrities at the show who will chat about their
favorite moments. The next will replace portions of the original with previously unshown performances or
other moments chosen by visitors to MTV's Web site. (Visitors to mtv.com are expected to be able to view
and choose from unseen performances in the Palms suites and other events recorded in Las Vegas before the
broadcast.) MTV plans a third iteration that will highlight the strongest musical performances.
Dave Sirulnick, MTV's executive producer for the event, said the idea was to add unusual moments to keep
viewers of the first show coming back. "Even if you saw it and loved it and watched every moment of it,
there's still more to see," he said.
For MTV, whose schedule is thick with dating and reality shows like "The Hills," the awards show also
coincides with an effort to raise its stature as a music tastemaker.
One of the biggest initiatives, though, has nothing to do with television programming, let alone music videos.
It is Rock Band, a much-buzzed-about game from the MTV-owned game developer Harmonix that lets
players perform famous songs with mock instruments. MTV has been coy about its plans for marketing Rock
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
Band, but a version of it will be set up this weekend in the Palms suite where Fall Out Boy is to perform, and
who knows? it might accidentally end up on camera.
There is also a new effort to introduce up-and-coming performers to MTV's general audience during
commercial breaks. In the 52/52 campaign, MTV spotlights one new act each week by featuring it in skits or
short performances during the channel's promotions of its own programs. In the first few weeks participants
like Paramore and Rodrigo y Gabriela have seen their album sales rise after exposure in the ads, sometimes
referred to as bumpers.
"Is someone seeing a bumper going to make them buy the record?" said Bob McLynn, whose talent
management firm represents acts including Fall Out Boy. "Definitely not. If you combine that with maybe
they heard it on the radio, maybe they saw the whole video someplace else, all that combines. It's all about
impressions. There's still something to putting a face to the music, and that's what MTV can do for you."
Published in the Arts section on September 6, 2007.
14
THE NEW YORK TIMES
In the Bronx, a Film School With a Down-to-the-Ghetto Name
By BEN SISARIO
September 14, 2007
David O. Russell, director of “Three Kings” and “I ♥ Huckabees,” talks with students in the Ghetto Film
School.
It was in many ways a typical film-school scene. On a recent hot afternoon, a group of eager young students
crowded around a big-time director, asking for advice about backlighting and the best way to establish a
scene of anarchy.
But the students quizzing David O. Russell, the director of "Three Kings" and "I ♥ Huckabees," weren't
enrolled at New York University or Columbia or any other august institution.
They were from the Ghetto Film School, an unaccredited training program in the South Bronx that operates
in the summer and on weekends during the school year. It gives teenagers a rigorous introduction to
filmmaking and, despite the humblest of origins, has built up an enviable roster of Hollywood donors and
supporters inside city government. Since early July the school's 19 students, ranging in age from 14 to 20,
have been studying the likes of Antonioni and John Huston, running through camera exercises and working
on six-minute films in two cramped classrooms in a city recreation center in Mott Haven, where the ceilings
periodically thump with the sounds of the weight room directly overhead.
The school's ambitions, however, reach far beyond the ghetto. Tonight the students' work will be shown at
Lincoln Center. And the school is opening a spacious annex near its original location, financed by a $1.2
million grant from the city. Ghetto Film is also working with the Department of Education to develop a
cinema-themed high school that would join the elite ranks of specialized schools like the La Guardia High
School for the arts.
The heart of the Ghetto Film School is Joe Hall, 43, a former Bronx social worker who left for Los Angeles
in 1999 to follow his cinematic dreams. He enrolled in the graduate film program at the University of
Southern California, but quickly became disillusioned: The students were almost all white and wealthy, and
most had family connections to the movie business. The smart, talented children he knew from his socialwork days, he said, seemed completely shut out of this world.
"I thought, 'We need to get the kids of the South Bronx into these places,' " Mr. Hall said.
Returning to the Bronx, he opened the Ghetto Film School in a Hunts Point storefront in the summer of
2000. From the beginning his methods were contrarian. The school was in the impoverished and crimescarred South Bronx, but students were admitted based on enthusiasm and aptitude, not economic need.
The origins of the school's name indicate the students' hunger to be challenged. When he was designing the
course, Mr. Hall asked a group of neighborhood teenagers what they would want in a film school.
"One said, 'I don't want to come into a place and find out someone is trying to raise my self-esteem,' " Mr.
Hall said. "Another said, 'Yeah, it's not like we want a ghetto film school.' Everyone started laughing, and I
thought, 'What if we could co-opt a negative term and throw it back out there, do the exact opposite?' "
Not everyone loves the name. "It's sort of limiting," the director Jim Jarmusch said with a slight wince after
his Ghetto Film lecture last month. But he added: "It's not the name that attracted me. It's the fact that here's
another place for new blood."
And the name does capture the street-smart pragmatism that the school encourages. "We steal shots," said
Alvy Johnson, a 24-year-old former student now in Columbia's graduate film program, referring to the
practice of shooting without proper permits. "That Ghetto Film guerrilla style, it pumps you up."
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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For the first few years the school operated as a summer course with a budget of up to $40,000. But after Mr.
Russell found out about it through a chance encounter with a former Ghetto Film staff member, its fortunes
changed. Intrigued, Mr. Russell joined the school's board and became its rainmaker.
"Everyone in Hollywood should tithe," Mr. Russell said. "So I went around with a basket to the studio I was
working with, and I got my filmmaker friends to be on the board."
Among those filmmaker friends who donate to Ghetto Film or lecture there are Spike Jonze, Harvey
Weinstein, Sofia Coppola and Mr. Jarmusch. The school, a nonprofit, has expanded to operate year-round,
with a budget of just under $1 million.
Focused on narrative storytelling no documentaries allowed the Ghetto Film curriculum begins with an
intensive nine-week summer course; students are paid a stipend of $500 through grants from the city and
corporate sponsors. They return in the fall, on weekends and after school, to study the basic structure of the
film industry. In the spring they collaborate on a short film, which is shot in foreign locations, to which they
travel as a group. So far Ghetto Film trips have included Paris, Mexico City and Germany.
Students come from throughout the city, though the majority are from the Bronx. Most are minorities, and
many are poor. At their session with Mr. Russell, they took turns delivering quick pitches for their sixminute movies. Most were typical teenage stories of romantic angst and family tensions. But others had
harsher themes, like Theresa Dilworth's "Reap the Reapers" (gang violence), Brian Neris's "Last Gift"
(police violence) and Nia Fields's "Moments in Love," which features a self-performed abortion.
And for some students, the idea of ghetto life is all too real. Ariel Morales, a 17-year-old who lives on the
Lower East Side, said he wanted Ghetto Film to help lift him out of a cycle of poverty and crime. "I just want
to be successful and break that code that my family has," he said, "the code of not going nowhere."
The long-term goal for the Ghetto Film School, Mr. Hall said, is to shepherd students from an early age
through college and into a professional career. The school finds work for the students as interns or
production assistants on films, and it has a production company for graduates, Digital Bodega. The city's
$1.2 million grant will pay for professional-grade editing equipment for Digital Bodega at its new space, a
loft in the southernmost tip of the Bronx.
Ghetto Film already works with a nearby city school, the New Explorers High School for Film and
Humanities, assisting faculty members and operating after-school programs. And if its proposal is accepted
by the Department of Education, a cinema high school could open as early as 2009.
Planned for 600 students, the new institution would screen applicants according to academic criteria yet to be
determined, Education Department officials said. Mr. Hall said that in addition to a core curriculum of
standard academic subjects, the school would offer electives like screenwriting, film history and production.
The proposal has not yet been accepted, but Education officials say they have been working closely with Mr.
Hall on the plan. Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg has promised to create more elite public schools, and several
have already opened, though some critics say another specialized high school is not what the city's 1.1
million students most need.
"A cinema school would provide a more targeted, artistic-focused school that's in a discipline that we know
is of interest to kids," said Garth Harries, who heads the Education Department's Office of New Schools.
"And we know that the partners, the Ghetto Film School folks, have a really strong track record of working
on projects in the film industry, particularly with minority kids."
If the proposal is accepted and the school is created, Mr. Hall might remain as an adviser, but would not be
its principal. Ghetto Film would remain a separate organization and continue to teach filmmaking to young
people in the Bronx.
Part of its success in attracting donors and supporters, film executives say, is attributable to the industry's
self-interest in making its talent pool more diverse. And Hollywood is always searching for new stories.
"There's a history of the ghetto producing things that seep into the popular culture," said Evan Shapiro,
general manager of the Independent Film Channel and a board member of the school. "That is what is
represented at Ghetto Film School. There's something that the Bronx can give to the world."
Published in the Arts section on September 13, 2007.
15
THE TELEGRAPH
Property in France: C'est la folie
by Michael Wright
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 03/11/2007
Married and gondola'd all in the same week. Michael Wright reports from rural France
Climbing down from the Orient Express on to the platform of Venice's St Lucia Station is a bit like
emerging, blinking, from a cinema at the end of a film. It's a bit of a blow to find that real life has been going
on as grubbily as ever while your back was turned. There is luggage everywhere and cart-loads of suitcases
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
are being wheeled up and down the dusty platform by yelling porters. Five minutes ago, a phalanx of
uniformed staff were catering to whims Alice and I didn't even know we had. Now we are on our own: Mr
and Mrs Nobody once more.
But then we wander out of the station and come face to face with the Grand Canal laid out like a giant
Canaletto beneath a silver-grey sky, with shimmering churches and domes reflected in its boat-strewn
waters. I think it's fair to say that you don't get quite the same sense of coming face-to-face with London at
Waterloo Station, or with Paris at the Gare Montparnasse. But here, right here, is the Venice for which the
traveller dares to hope as he leafs through his guidebook at home.
I battle with my cheapskate's instinct to wait for a vaporetto to chug us up the canal into the heart of Venice.
For today we are on honeymoon and, on honeymoon, special spending rules apply. As in, there aren't any. So
we stroll to the water-taxi jetty and are helped into one of those sleek wooden craft that is 10 per cent timber,
10 per cent chrome and 80 per cent yacht varnish - and can only be piloted by men with exceedingly
expensive sunglasses.
This is a journey I shall always remember, this water-taxi ride through Venice at dusk with my new wife. I
shall remember it not for the twinkling lights reflected in the waters of the Grand Canal that make me feel a
million miles from La Folie, nor for the finely-pierced stonework of the Ca d'Oro, intricate as lace.
No, I shall remember it for the seabird that pulls up from a Stuka-type dive, just as we are rounding the
Salute, and lands something it ate for lunch - splitchhh! - slap-bang on my suitcase with a sound like a highspeed collision between a pair of whelks. Suddenly I'm right back at La Folie, attempting to shoo the
chickens out of the door because one of them has jettisoned her bombs on the step.
Except that now we're at the boat-jetty of our hotel - the jewel-like Ca' Maria Adele, just across the water
from St Mark's - and a sparkling little man in a suit is greeting us.
I do my best to point out the seabird's work and shake his hand, all at the same time, when he simply leans
across and - too soon for me, too late for him - grabs the suitcase in both hands.
We stare at each other for a second, smiles locked, and then I see his fixed grin begin to droop, like an ice
cream falling off a stick.
"I'm so sorry," I say, in English.
"A bird..." He glances down at his hand, purses his lips and shrugs.
"In Venice," he sighs, "we say this is good luck." And I'm sure he would say exactly the same thing if, right
now, I just happened to fall overboard.
So follow four days in which we attempt to unwind from our wedding in a world which, seabirds excepted,
feels far-removed from the rugged pleasures of La Folie.
Until today, for instance, I have never been particularly tempted to ride in a gondola, just as I have never
wanted to own my own Rolex or go on an expensive cruise to the Bahamas. It always seemed a clichéd,
touristy thing to do, at a price aimed at people far more wealthy, credulous or Japanese than me. Mind you, I
never expected to get married, either, and now look at me. Married and gondola'd, all in the same week.
Neophyte that I am, I can recommend both experiences. And as we glide down the narrow canals, with the
water whispering alongside our boat, the oar of the gondolier occasionally plashing behind us and the echoes
of his mournful cries bouncing off the ancient stonework, I feel so glad to be here, inside this perfect
moment. Transported into the past, I feel more-than-usually present. Abroad as we are, I feel utterly at home.
Sometimes things may become clichés simply because they were right all along.
# www.lafolie.co.uk
16
THE TELEGRAPH
Lesbian parents can both be called mother
By Rebecca Smith, Medical Editor
The concept of a two-mother family is to be enshrined in law for the first time.
Lesbian parents can both be called mother
Experts say the new bill marks a historic change in how a family is legally defined
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
The Human Tissues and Embryos Bill, to be announced in the Queen's Speech next week, will give both
women in a lesbian relationship the legal status of parents when one of them gives birth following fertility
treatment.
Experts say this marks a historic change in how a family is legally defined.
The change was condemned by family campaigners as a "dangerous social experiment" but supporters said it
was "logical and just".
The Bill lays down that where two women are in a relationship and one has fertility treatment in order to
conceive then the partner should be treated as the other "parent" even if they are not in a civil partnership. In
those circumstances no man — such as the sperm donor — can be treated as a father, the Bill says, to avoid a
child having three legal parents.
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The change reflects the fact that in a heterosexual couple when the woman is inseminated with donor sperm
the man is treated as the father even though he has no biological link to the resulting child. Male gay couples
who have children via surrogate mothers or by adoption are not covered by the new legislation.
The Bill says that where there is reference to the father of a child such as on birth certificates this is to be
read as reference to the female parent who did not give birth.
It will also say for the first time that babies born through fertility treatment do not need to have a father
figure and parents will be banned from choosing the sex of their child.
Campaigners said there was no substitute for a family unit in which children are brought up with input from
both mother and father.
Norman Wells, of the Family Education Trust, said it was a dangerous social experiment. "Men and women
are not interchangeable and fathers are not an optional extra."
Dr Anthony Cole, the chairman of the Medical Ethics Alliance, said: "It doesn't seem right for the child not
to have a father. There's strong evidence that children, particularly boys, need a male influence in their
lives."
Bishops are concerned over the issue. The Bishop of Winchester, the Rt Rev Michael Scott-Joynt, said in
August, "Is it right for the state to construct a system to bring children into this world without making
provision for their having a father?
"The Bill should be looking at how it can champion the role of fathers in the context of fertility treatment
more effectively."
Susan Freeborn, a barrister specialising in child law, said the change would cause problems when civil
partnerships break down.
"The mother of a child has always had unique status in the past but now there will be two. It will be difficult
then to determine which of the 'mothers' is the most important."
Ruth Hunt, of the gay rights charity Stonewall, said: "This recognises that lots of gay people have children
and make very good parents."
If passed, the Bill will also allow children born from donor sperm or eggs to have limited access to
information about other children from the same donor.
Information appearing on telegraph.co.uk is the copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited and must not
be reproduced in any medium without licence. For the full copyright statement see Copyright
17
THE NEW YORK TIMES
Languages Die, but Not Their Last Words
By JOHN NOBLE WILFORD
September 20, 2007
Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages
In Bolivia, Ilaryon Ramos Condori knows a secret tongue that is used mainly for preserving knowledge of
medicinal plants.
Of the estimated 7,000 languages spoken in the world today, linguists say, nearly half are in danger of
extinction and likely to disappear in this century. In fact, one falls out of use about every two weeks.
Some languages vanish in an instant, at the death of the sole surviving speaker. Others are lost gradually in
bilingual cultures, as indigenous tongues are overwhelmed by the dominant language at school, in the
marketplace and on television.
New research, reported yesterday, has found the five regions where languages are disappearing most rapidly:
northern Australia, central South America, North America’s upper Pacific coastal zone, eastern Siberia, and
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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Oklahoma and the southwestern United States. All have indigenous people speaking diverse languages, in
falling numbers.
The study was based on field research and data analysis supported by the National Geographic Society and
the Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages. The findings are described in the October issue of
National Geographic and at languagehotspots.org.
In a teleconference with reporters yesterday, K. David Harrison, an associate professor of linguistics at
Swarthmore, said that more than half the languages had no written form and were ‘vulnerable to loss and
being forgotten.’ Their loss leaves no dictionary, no text, no record of the accumulated knowledge and
history of a vanished culture.
Beginning what is expected to be a long-term project to identify and record endangered languages, Dr.
Harrison has traveled to many parts of the world with Gregory D. S. Anderson, director of the Living
Tongues Institute, in Salem, Ore., and Chris Rainier, a filmmaker with the National Geographic Society.
The researchers, focusing on distinct oral languages, not dialects, interviewed and made recordings of the
few remaining speakers of a language and collected basic word lists. The individual projects, some lasting
three to four years, involve hundreds of hours of recording speech, developing grammars and preparing
children‘s readers in the obscure language. The research has concentrated on preserving entire language
families.
In Australia, where nearly all the 231 spoken tongues are endangered, the researchers came upon three
known speakers of Magati Ke in the Northern Territory, and three Yawuru speakers in Western Australia. In
July, Dr. Anderson said, they met the sole speaker of Amurdag, a language in the Northern Territory that had
been declared extinct.
‘This is probably one language that cannot be brought back, but at least we made a record of it, Dr. Anderson
said, noting that the Aborigine who spoke it strained to recall words he had heard from his father, now dead.
Many of the 113 languages in the region from the Andes Mountains into the Amazon basin are poorly known
and are giving way to Spanish or Portuguese, or in a few cases, a more dominant indigenous language. In
this area, for example, a group known as the Kallawaya use Spanish or Quechua in daily life, but also have a
secret tongue mainly for preserving knowledge of medicinal plants, some previously unknown to science.
‘How and why this language has survived for more than 400 years, while being spoken by very few, is a
mystery,’ Dr. Harrison said in a news release.
The dominance of English threatens the survival of the 54 indigenous languages in the Northwest Pacific
plateau, a region including British Columbia, Washington and Oregon. Only one person remains who knows
Siletz Dee-ni, the last of many languages once spoken on a reservation in Oregon.
In eastern Siberia, the researchers said, government policies have forced speakers of minority languages to
use the national and regional languages, like Russian or Sakha.
Forty languages are still spoken in Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico, many of them originally used by
Indian tribes and others introduced by Eastern tribes that were forced to resettle on reservations, mainly in
Oklahoma. Several of the languages are moribund.
Another measure of the threat to many relatively unknown languages, Dr. Harrison said, is that 83 languages
with global influence are spoken and written by 80 percent of the world population. Most of the others face
extinction at a rate, the researchers said, that exceeds that of birds, mammals, fish and plants.
Published in the International section on September 19, 2007.
18
THE TELEGRAPH
Living in France: The English Trap
Moving your family to France is a big step. Jon Doust on what happens when life across the Channel turns
out to be not what you expected.
It was Kerry who gave it a name: "People move to France having sold up in the UK, buy a big, fabulous,
house that needs work and have around 70,000 euros to do it.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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"The problem is that money just disappears here, then they can't manage in France and they just find
themselves stuck. I call it the English Trap."
It is by no means clear just how many Britons are currently living in France, but some sources suggest as
many as 500,000.
Unexpected challenge: How to keep your children amused when there is insufficient time or money for them
to pursue their favourite hobbies is a problem some parents may not have anticipated
It is even less clear what kind of turnover is going on, but, judging from anecdote, perhaps as many as half of
new arrivals last less than two years here before either moving on or returning to the UK.
Treacle-slow pace of rural life
The reasons vary, but usually involve difficulties with the language, a failure to integrate into wider French
society, problems with children's schooling, boredom with the treacle-slow pace of rural life and an inability
to earn a living.
Some people downshifting discover that the "poverty" bit of "genteel poverty" is rather less romantic and
rather more complicated than perhaps they first realised; others find that France simply "isn't what they
expected".
Kerry and Jimmy are going home in this month. They arrived in France a year ago, swapping a three-bed
semi on Canvey Island for a big beautiful house with exposed beams and solid oak floors in the boarder area
between the Charente and the Haut-Vienne, not too far from the city of Limoges.
With their two daughters – Molly, 11, and Mabel, 4 – Kerry and Jimmy looked forward to a simpler life in
the French countryside. But their knowledge of the area, garnered from having owned a holiday home there
for two years previously, did not fully prepare them for the reality of life in this idyllic setting.
They quickly established a gardening business: Jimmy had been a landscape gardener in the UK before
starting his own courier service and he returned to this enterprise in France.
This proved to be hard work: choosing to be properly registered as a business in France – and therefore liable
for both tax and challenging social charges – they found themselves competing for customers against
expatriate Brits happy to work "on the black" and easily able to undercut their rates.
They knew that the work from their one steady client would end in autumn. Although this would not in itself
have been a reason to move back, it was an important consideration.
Reality bites
Although not as costly as the UK – roughly, one euro has the purchasing power of £1, which is why things
can sometimes look so good when one is on holiday – life in France is not cheap.
The size of one expense Kerry and Jimmy had not expected was that of keeping their daughters amused.
"Today was the first day of the holidays," she said. "It was raining and there is nothing to do around here. So
we got into the car and went to McDonald's just for something to do.
"We go to the pictures sometimes, but it's not the same kind of day out as in the UK, and we still find it
difficult to follow the films in French.
"In the UK, Molly used to do karate, but that just isn't possible around here. In any case she doesn't get
dropped off by the school bus until 5.30pm, and then she has two hours homework, so there's no time to do
anything anyway. Mabel would love to do ballet, but the nearest class is an hour's drive each way."
Although their elder daughter has settled into school well, Mabel has not been at all happy. At times she
almost had to be prised away from her mother. As she is below compulsory schooling age, she has now been
withdrawn from school in preparation for the return to the UK.
Language has also been a problem. Although the girls got on well, Kerry says that improving her
"restaurant" French has been a challenge. Although she is now well able to converse, dealing with the
bureaucracy of day-to-day life is still difficult.
Language difficulties
A recent telecoms problem took five days and the help of a more fluent French-speaking English neighbour
to resolve, while an unfortunate incident involving their British registered car shortly after they arrived in
France is still awaiting resolution by both the police and insurance company who are seemingly ill-equipped
for the transnational nature of the affair.
The disparity between house price inflation between France and Britain may keep families wishing to return
home off the British property ladder for years
It was during a holiday in the UK that events came to a head. Kerry and the girls flew back to Essex, but
Jimmy drove over. Kerry was surprised to find that she was almost dreading his arrival in the UK.
Thinking carefully, she realised that what she was really dreading was having to tell him that she wanted to
come back permanently.
Happily, Jimmy was of the same mind. Kerry says that she didn't realise how miserable her daughters were
until she saw their ecstatic reaction when the possibility of returning to Canvey Island was suggested.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
The family were able to sell their house in France quickly – to another couple coming from Britain – and had
had the foresight to keep their house in the UK, so they have somewhere to go back to. Jimmy has also been
able to resurrect his courier business.
For others, the return is not so easy. Kerry tells of another family in the Charente who have had their
partially renovated property on the market for 18 months without attracting any buying interest.
Unable to work through lack of language or appropriate French qualifications, they are eking out a
precarious living by juggling debt on UK credit cards that they brought with them.
Even were they to sell, the disparity between house price inflation between the two countries may keep them
off the British property ladder for years to come. It is difficult to see quite how they can escape from their
situation.
In the meantime though, Kerry, Jimmy, Molly and Mabel are packing their bags. Kerry says that though she
feels that she may have been slightly selfish in imposing a move to France on her children, overall, the
experience has been a good one for the family.
Nonetheless the adventure is over and they are all very happy to be going home.
Information appearing on telegraph.co.uk is the copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited and must not
be reproduced in any medium without licence. For the full copyright statement see Copyright
19
THE GUARDIAN
A Wien romance
by Nigel Slater
Piping-hot gluhwein, spiced'n'iced lebkuchen and gingerbread houses... Nigel Slater rediscovers the magic of
Christmas during a trip to Vienna
It is difficult not to warm to a city that smells of baked apples. Strands of white fairy lights hang across the
narrow streets like falling snow caught in lamplight. The bells of Stephansdom chime deeply, and every now
and then there is the ghostly clatter of horses' hooves on cobbles. The shop windows, when they are not full
of curiously sinister antique dolls, are glistening with caskets of sugar plums and chocolate fir cones. Vienna,
icily cold and smelling of sweet spice, is like walking into a Christmas card.
Six in the evening, the air full of frost, and it seems as if the whole of Wien is congregating around the tall
tables of the city's many gluhwein stalls. The woolly hats, long scarves and neat beards create a scene that
resembles a Seventies knitting pattern, but before I know it I have been dragged in, sipping spiced apple
punsch and fraying my nails opening toasted chestnuts with the rest of them.
I am in Vienna to see Rachel Whiteread's staggeringly beautiful memorial in the Judenplatz. It stands in
shocked concrete silence amid its baroque surroundings, lit by a scattering of scarlet candles, creating a
scene where even the sound of my footsteps intrudes. It was by sheer chance that I find its close neighbour,
the tiny Friday organic market on Freyung, with its jars of local honey and home-made sauerkraut and then almost hidden behind a mass of spruce trees - one of the city's several Christkindlmarkts.
I have long been embarrassed by our own big cities' tackiness when it comes to Christmas festivities. While
our town centres are decorated with a sort of flashing Las Vegas-style ugliness, Vienna manages to retain the
feel of an advent calendar, complete with a dusting of glitter. The Christmas markets, of which half a dozen
are dotted around the city, are heavy with the fragrance of freshly cut pine trees and freshly baked ginger
biscuits. Sure, they have more than their fair share of dodgy craftwork for sale, but it is a small price to pay
for the lingering scent of cloves and hot apple cider that hangs in the air like an edible cloud.
Yes, it's more than a little twee in places, but how can this festival ever be anything but? A few glasses of
orange-peel-scented grog and you start to appreciate the work that goes into those little gingerbread houses
with their snowy roofs and tiles made out of sweeties; the heart-shaped cookies and oranges stuffed with
cloves; the extraordinary array of glass baubles and musical boxes. This is also where you come for paper
plates of sharp shredded cabbage and slender sausages, twists of bread dough and slices of spice cake, paper
bags of chestnuts fresh from the roaster, baked potatoes and mugs of steaming wine. Vienna, it would seem,
is made for Christmas.
Full of punsch, I push my way along the steep cobbled streets between the Burggasse and Siebensterngasse
until I come to the Spittelberg Christmas market and its diminutive cabin with its single wheel of melting
raclette. There is some amicable jostling among the duffel coats to get to the front of the queue (it is not easy
to fight in mittens), all of us eager to get our hands on a piece of the stallholder's hot toast with its waves of
molten cheese. There are few moments more perfect than the one that finds you biting into blistering cheese
on toast while snowflakes fall on your eyelashes.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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The roast-chestnut braziers hold nuts as plump and sweet as I have ever seen. They never tempt me at home.
The fact that they come in an old-fashioned paper cone here makes them unusually tempting. Each one split
across the top, the toasted kernels peeping out enticingly like babies under a blanket.
The cold is making my eyes water, but I battle on towards music coming from somewhere deep in the
Hofburg Palace. Sadly, it turns out to come from a busker's ghetto blaster, but at least it's Strauss. In Britain
it would have been Slade.
Christmas in Vienna is enough to bring out the inner child in anyone. Every window seems to be made for
sticking your nose against. It is here you will find hand-painted Christmas decorations and slices of dense
chocolate cake, cheese dumplings and nutmeg-scented hot cocoa. This is the home of hot pancakes with
plum compotes, butter cookies and crisp apple strudel. Yes, and doorbells and sleighbells and schnitzel with
noodles. It is a place where people have probably lived out their sugar-coated fantasies for centuries,
spooning snowy peaks of whipped cream from oversized coffee cups before sipping from the dark depths
beneath, or toasting the season with potato patties from a charcoal burner on the street corner.
There is modern food here, too. The best dish I have all week is a bright-tasting salad of pickled white
cabbage and black pudding at MAK, the city's answer to our V&A - it is something I want instantly to make
at home. The star of the dish is the mouth-puckering fresh horseradish that is grated like spicy snow over the
top of the crisply fried black pudding. (Traces of the hot root turn up again the day after in a meal at a beisl,
adding life to a bowl of stewed beef and its moat of inky broth.)
Vienna's beisls are the sort of eating house that is sadly missing in Britain. Good, hearty food at a reasonable
price. Yes, the portions are too large, the surroundings are the sort of varnished pine that you can forgive
only in the Alps, and the staff can have a little too much of the headmistress about them. But they are reliable
and much adored by the locals and tourists alike. Beisls are home to plates of pork schnitzel the size of New
Zealand; kasespatzle, the little pasta dumplings the size of sugar puffs hidden under a biting cheese sauce,
and wiener eintopf, their famous potato stew with boiled sausage.
These spit-and-sawdust bistros are not, however, the place I fell for a lebkuchen-auflauf, a gingerbread
pudding served with custard and melted chocolate. Yes, I did say 'and'. The waiter might call it a souffle (it
was far from it), but the round, warm cake had the same mixture of spices as the soft spiced'n'iced cookies
that turn up at Christmastime in fancy boxes. I like these lebkuchen for their lack of sweetness and the fact
that they contain allspice, which is all too rarely used in baking. (Years ago I confused it with mixed spice
and have been wary of it ever since.) The traditional spice mix for these dark, soft-crusted cookies has a
definite touch of cloves, cinnamon and nutmeg, as well as molasses, honey and sometimes black pepper.
There is something appealing about the fragility of the wafer-thin icing that shatters as soon as you look at it.
Back home my own tree has been up for weeks - I can never wait - but now I am wondering why I didn't
bake a few ginger biscuits to hang from the branches. Instead, I tucked a few into my hand luggage, an edible
reminder of a twinkling, sugar'n'spice city that seems just made for this season. A very Merry Christmas to
you all....
· nigel.slater@observer.co.uk
Guardian Unlimited ; Guardian News and Media Limited 2007
20
THE TELEGRAPH
The new breed of Brits winning over America
by Chloe Fox
British actors no longer have to play the snaggle-toothed baddie to get a part on US screens – they are now
beating American talent to land starring roles in hit television series. Chloe Fox reports
Something is happening in American television, and it isn't simply that the smiles are getting whiter. Dotted
around some of its biggest hit shows are some strangely familiar faces.
Hugh Laurie changed the way that British actors were perceived by American producers
Time was that an English actor only got work in America if he was prepared to ham up his Englishness to
play a villain, an eccentric, or as Stephen Fry so succinctly put it, someone "emotionally constipated". But
then things started to change; British actors started to do American as well as, if not better than, the
Americans themselves.
Ironically, it was Hugh Laurie, of Jeeves and Wooster and Blackadder fame, an actor eternally typecast as a
bumbling English twit, who changed the way that British actors were perceived by American producers
when he won two Best Actor Golden Globe Awards in two consecutive years, for his pitch-perfect portrayal
of the Ohio-born Dr Gregory House in the hit Fox medical drama, House, M.D.
Having always lived by the copycat rule of "if it works, steal it", the networks leapt on the British
bandwagon.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
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Of the 17 new dramas being broadcast by the five big networks in America at the moment, 10 of them star
actors from Britain.
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Some, like the compulsively watchable Brothers and Sisters (in which Welsh actor Matthew Rhys gives a
star turn as homosexual lawyer Kevin Walker) are in the UK already.
Others, like Pushing Daisies (in which Anna Friel plays the all-American girl next door) are on their way.
Just as Friel started her professional life as a soap star (Brookside), so too did the star of NBC's remake of
the 1977 classic The Bionic Woman.
"Everyone over here is looking for new faces," says executive producer David Eick of the decision to cast
Michelle Ryan, perhaps better known here as Zoe Slater in EastEnders.
"I think they cast us because we're cheap," laughs Lena Heady, the London-based actress who plays the lead
in Fox's Terminator spin-off, The Sarah Connor Chronicles.
"Maybe it's because we're so good," says Damian Lewis, the star of such British TV classics as The Forsyte
Saga and Colditz, currently playing an American detective who is back on the force after serving a prison
sentence in NBC's Life.
Their rigorous training in their craft is one thing, but there is a new generation of English actors whose
impressive command of the American accent makes them very hot property.
"I have been working in this business for over 30 years," says Joan Washington, arguably Britain's leading
dialect coach, "and I can honestly say that our young actors are much, much better at speaking with an
American accent than their predecessors ever were."
To her mind, there is one very good reason for this.
"They are part of a generation which has grown up watching American television."
Add to that the gradual change in the articulation and tone of the standard RP accent – more emphasis on the
vowels, less pitch variety – and you have a vocal starting point that is closer to American in its rhythms in
the first place.
Washington is, however, at pains to point out that no flawless American accent can be achieved without a
great deal of hard work.
"It's as if everyone else is playing with a tennis racket and you have a salmon," concurs Laurie.
"It takes a lot of perseverance, but it's deeply satisfying when you get it right," says Scottish-born Kevin
McKidd, who is currently starring as a time-hopping San Francisco TV reporter in NBC's Journeyman.
Minnie Driver, who won an Emmy nomination earlier this year for her portrayal of Louisiana gal Dahlia
Malloy in The Riches, is much more blasé – "It's not difficult. You listen, and you can't help but start
speaking that way."
Apart from the quality of life, what is the real appeal for British actors of working in America?
According to Sophia Myles, the beautiful young star who was cast as quintessential English aristocrat Lady
Penelope in the 2004 remake of Thunderbirds, there isn't a choice.
"We don't really have a film industry in England any more," says the star of CBS's flagship new drama
Moonlight, in which she plays the human love interest of a vampire-turned-private detective.
"And American television, especially in the past few years, is on a par with, if not better than, a lot of movies
that are out there at the moment."
Then of course there are the financial considerations. With Hugh Laurie now commanding a rumoured
$300,000 (£144,000) per episode of House, there is an incentive to perform well in a potential hit show.
Not only that, but, whereas some of the most prestigious British series have short runs, a successful
American series can keep an actor profitably employed for years.
Take Dominic West, for example. Since 2002, the star of British films like True Blue and Rock Star has been
spending half of his working year in Baltimore filming HBO's hugely popular cop show, The Wire.
As well as paying the bills, the show has also become a calling card, landing him roles in big-budget
Hollywood pictures like Chicago and 300.
The only downside? If he hasn't already, it's surely only a matter of time before he will have to dye his
English teeth Hollywood white.
Information appearing on telegraph.co.uk is the copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited and must not
be reproduced in any medium without licence. For the full copyright statement see Copyright
21
THE TELEGRAPH
The French don't give a fig for fads
by Helena Frith Powell
In France, eating well and staying slim is a constant preoccupation. But few people diet or go to the gym –
and no one takes food scares seriously, says Helena Frith Powell
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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Another day, another diet scare. As British consumers panic about the latest report saying that red meat and
wine may cause cancer, I am here in France tucking into a birthday lunch with a French friend.
The French don't give a fig for fads
For the French, eating well is part of a daily routine
We are eating lamb, roast potatoes, carrots and haricots verts. We will drink some red wine and, knowing my
friend, we will finish off with a piece of dark chocolate.
In fact, if she doesn't have any, I will bring some out from my own handbag. Since the news last week that
craving chocolate can actually make you fatter, I never travel without my own bar.
The French think we're hilarious with our faddy diets and food obsessions.
A few years ago we were supposed to avoid carbs. A meal without bread? You've got to be off your trolley.
No red meat? I don't think so.
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The French eat from every food group at every meal, regardless of whether or not they are healthy, superhealthy or protect us from disease.
At Christmas last year we were invited over for an aperitif with some French friends. We had some wine.
Shortly afterwards they produced some foie gras, followed by smoked salmon, followed by a selection of
cheeses and then a home-made Christmas log.
"Thanks for dinner," I said, when we finally stumbled out at 11.30pm.
"That wasn't dinner," said the wife, horrified. "There were no vegetables."
And no crisps or processed canapés, either. The French eat a very balanced diet.
For them, healthy eating and staying thin is not something they do once a year before they put on a bikini or
because some health watchdog has issued an ultimatum; it's something they think about on an hourly basis.
They always think about eating well. It is part of their daily routine. And therein lies the difference.
If you think about what you eat every day then you will remain thin – and avoid those possibly carcinogenic
processed foods into the bargain.
The French don't stuff their faces with doughnuts and fast food at every opportunity. Yes, they stop for
lunch, but they don't get fat.
They eat creamy cheeses but their heart attack rate is renowned for being low – the so-called French paradox.
They might drink wine with lunch and dinner, but rarely more than a glass or two. Binge-drinking is simply
not something that happens here.
Frenchwomen's attitude to exercise is the same as their attitude to food. They don't go to a gym and burn out
once a week. Every opportunity to push a child on a swing or walk up some stairs is seen as an opportunity
to exercise.
One Frenchwoman I know says that if she is stuck next to someone dull at a dinner party, she spends most of
the time squeezing her pelvic floor.
On the way home, her husband no longer asks her if she had a good time: he asks her how her pelvic floor is.
If it's in good shape, he knows she was bored out of her mind.
The news that we shouldn't eat red meat or drink alcohol does not worry me. Nor does the theory that five
portions of fruit and vegetables may not protect me from cancer.
I will just keep eating a little of what I want to every day – and, as I tuck into my Brie and French bread, I
will wait for the next fad to send everyone in England into spirals of despair.
Here in France, nothing gets in the way of lunch – least of all a scientific report.
# Helena Frith Powell is the author of Two Lipsticks and a Lover, published by Arrow
Information appearing on telegraph.co.uk is the copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited and must not
be reproduced in any medium without licence. For the full copyright statement see Copyright
22
THE GUARDIAN
The great armchair escape
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
by Rory Maclean
Agata Adamska
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Stuck at home between Christmas and new year? Rory MacLean discovers the perfect book to go
globetrotting without leaving the comfort of your sofa
Outside the rain lashes the street. The wind rattles the windows. The turkey has been amputated and all the
TV shows are reruns. In the bleak days between Christmas and New Year's Eve, I'd rather be somewhere
else. Anywhere else where the rellies aren't superglued to the sofa.
Hence a sudden interest in armchair travel. Publishing gurus estimate a remarkable 22% of readers never
take their guidebooks out of the house. Every year Lonely Planet sells 30,000 copies of its Bhutan guide
when only 15,000 tourists visit the country annually. Armchair travellers want to experience Bali or Brazil
without leaving Basildon. Likewise, glossy travel magazines exploit our longing for the many places we
won't see before we die. They assure us that the world is our oyster, and propel our imaginations around the
globe, while the reality of bills-to-pay and trains-to-catch keeps most of us at home.
Enter Taschen, the international art publisher that produces innovative, often shocking art books at popular
prices. Its titles range from Michelangelo's complete works to Robert Crumb's raucous and vulgar Sex
Obsessions, by way of a collection of amateur nude self-portraits. Taschen's ventures into travel erotica —
including its capital city restaurant, boutique and hotel guides — are equally titillating and seductive.
Great Escapes around the World is a lushly illustrated selection of 90 amazing guesthouses, hotels, spas and
houseboats. Stay in a hilltop Burgundy chateau, built in 1221, complete with moat and draw bridge. Avoid
the paparazzi at Gio Ponti's cool blue and white residence overlooking the Bay of Naples and Mount
Vesuvius. Drift towards the end of the world in a hot tub at the exclusive, wooden-clad Explora en
Patagonia, which appears to float like an ocean liner on a glacial Andean lake.
For me, the two most intriguing destinations are in the United States. In Colorado, not far from the Telluride
ski resort, a German soap-and-chemical heir recently bought an entire 1890s ghost town. He restored the
weather-beaten log cabins, filling them with fine art, to create a European fantasy of the American West.
Where else do the tepees have Jacuzzis and guests dine in an original saloon on locally-sourced gourmet
cuisine: organic beef from neighbouring farms, wild mushrooms, chanterelles and boletos, from the foothills
of the Rockies?
Across the state line in Arizona, travellers romanticise the freedom of the American road. At the Shady Dell
RV Park, vintage 1950s silver caravans – Airstreams, Manors, a Royal Mansion – have been restored to their
original glory. The bedspreads are chenille. The decorative fruit is plastic. The cupboards are stocked with
Marshmallow Fluff and Skippy Peanut Butter. The phonographs play Elvis Presley 45rpm records
(supplied). Time-tripping guests order chilli dogs and root beer floats at Dot's Diner, gaze out over the desert
and pretend to be Jack Kerouac.
Great Escapes ranges across the globe, from Big Sur to Bolivia's Uyuni salt desert to Shepton Mallet. Its
broad selection ensures that there's a destination to suit all tastes, though not all budgets. With the exception
of an Austrian alpine retreat and a few American establishments (like the Shady Dell), most of the hotels are
expensive. A single won't leave you much change from £150. At Venice's elegant Hotel Cipriani and Palazzo
Vendramin, rooms start at £1,250 per night.
Not surprisingly the text drips with superlatives. Water is inevitably "sparkling blue". The view is always
"breath-taking". In the sexy, full-page photographs, the bathrobes are fluffy, the pillows plumped, the
bougainvillea blooming beneath a cloudless sky. Unexpectedly each listing includes a recommended "book
to pack". At Angkor Village, the suggested reading is First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia
Remembers by Loung Ung. It is unfortunate that the translation – the book was researched by a team of
English-, French- and German-speaking writers – occasionally becomes muddled: "Rarely will your loungs
breathe so bracing an air" and "In the heart of Africa, the search for prey is as old as time".
Great Escapes around the World is a big book. At 720 pages and weighing four kilos, it's not going to slip
into any globetrotter's backpack. The publisher's intention is that readers will ogle over its lush pages and be
inspired to click on to a dedicated online hotel reservations website. My suspicion is this won't happen too
often. The vast majority of readers will simply stay at home and imagine escaping to another world, tasting
those fresh croissants, slipping between those silk sheets, and forgetting for a moment the sound of arguing
relatives and Dawn French reruns.
· Rory MacLean's latest book Magic Bus: On the Hippie Trail from Istanbul to India is published by
Penguin. It is available to buy from the Guardian Bookshop
23
THE NEWSWEEK
The Bitter-Sweet Taste Of Success
China's rise is empowering its legions of working women. But they're finding the rewards aren't so sweet.
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
27
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
I am an agony aunt—a print and online advice columnist—in China. By accident. I used to write a column
on sex, but it was considered too risqué by the censors. So we changed it to a Q&A format instead. In the
beginning, my editors wrote the questions. But after two issues, real letters started to come in from readers.
A year and a half ago, I also started to write a blog, which became very successful.
The questions I receive offer fascinating insights into what it's like to be a woman in China today. Since the
column started, we have received a total of 14,397 letters, 90 percent of them from women. Most of the
writers live in urban areas and hold college degrees. A quarter of them write me about affairs with married
men, usually the women's bosses. To get a sense of their concerns, consider the following sample:
Dear Huang, I have been in a romantic and sexual relationship with my boss for five years. I am now
pregnant with his child. His wife has known about our relationship all along but refuses to give him a
divorce. I am comfortable being his concubine, [si nce] he is very kind to me: he bought me an apartment
and has promised to pay all the expenses for our baby. But my parents, who are Communist Party members
and very conservative, think it is immoral and want me to leave him and have an abortion. What s hould I
do?
Some 30 percent of my readers, meanwhile, seem to have a hard time finding a partner at all. Here is a
typical complaint:
Dear Huang, I am 32, and have a master ' s degree in English. I am also very good looking, if I may say so.
But I have problems finding a spouse. One of the problems is that I am not a virgin. The other one is that my
graduate degree is intimidating to Chinese men. My friends suggest that I li e about both and even get an
operation [to simulate virginity]. Is this the only way I can get someone to love me? Should I do it?
Such problems are far from unique, and say a lot about the attitudes of Chinese women. Most of us now face
acute dilemmas over what roles to play in the country's booming new market economy. Although we have
gained economic status as China has grown richer, we have not really gained in social status. Chinese society
is still deeply traditional, and Confucius said that "a virtuous woman is without talent." This notion remains
deeply rooted in Chinese culture. We don't like highly educated, highly paid professional women. Deep
down, many Chinese remain very skeptical about the value of successful woman when it comes to
relationships, families and social environments. When women make money, it is considered disruptive.
That said, China has enjoyed official gender equality for more than 50 years now. In government agencies
and state-owned enterprises, men and women are required by law to receive equal pay. Indeed, Chinese
women never had to fight to achieve formal equality: it was handed to us instead on a silver platter.
Ironically, this might not have been a good thing. For it has left Chinese women unequipped to deal with
gender issues in the current market economy (as opposed to Communist China's old, state-run system). In
addition, we have failed to develop a moral structure that would help us women understand the complicated
social issues that arise from wealth. Remember that polygamy was abolished in China only when the
Communists took over in 1949. My grandmother always said that it was good to be the first in school but the
last in marriage—meaning it was more important to be the most favored wife than it was to be a smart
student. Such attitudes still linger.
As a result, the kinds of compromises and decisions Western career women now make all the time remain
difficult and morally burdensome for their Chinese counterparts. Consider the case of my communications
director: only two months after she was promoted to that post, she asked me for a demotion. When I asked
why, she replied that she did not want to give her fianc? the impression that she was too focused on her
career. What's wrong with that? I asked. She said that in his family, a "good woman" was one who made her
husband and her family the priority of her life.
As all that suggests, China may be changing fast—but there's still plenty of work for us agony aunts to
accomplish.
24
THE NEWSWEEK
Steve Grove: How to Run for President, YouTube Style
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
By Karen Breslau
Agata Adamska
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III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
Steve Grove believes in the wisdom of crowds. And the smartest people he knows are YouTube's estimated
71 million users, who collectively post and watch as many as 2.5 billion online videos a month. As
YouTube's political director, Grove, 30, considers himself less an editor than a "curator" of the Web site's
"chaotic sea of content." A lot of the site's political fare is anything but high-minded or serious—the sultry
YouTube fave "Obama Girl" and all those wonderfully snarky homemade videos mocking Hillary Clinton's
robotic laugh or John Edwards's obsessive hair and makeup routine. But user-created clips are also shaping
coverage of the 2008 presidential campaign in ways unimagined in 2006, when a viral video of Sen. George
Allen calling his rival's campaign worker "macaca" ended the Virginia Republican's career—and led to what
Grove calls "the birth of YouTube politics."
YouTube, which didn't even exist three years ago, found its way into the mainstream awfully fast. At
presidential debates cosponsored by the site, candidates had to endure—and pretend to enjoy—oddball video
questions submitted by YouTubers. Democrats were quizzed about global warming by an animated melting
snowman; Republicans were grilled about gun control by a guy swinging a rifle. "If you're not on YouTube,
you're not part of the discussion," says Grove, a former Boston Globe and ABC News reporter. "It's the
world's largest town hall."
The candidates, too, have learned to use the site to their advantage, uploading sometimes serious, sometimes
quirky, snippets of themselves. The most clever bits get spread around the Web and picked up by TV.
"HuckChuckFacts"—a tongue-in-cheek endorsement video featuring Mike Huckabee and action star Chuck
Norris trading manly compliments—is a classic of the genre. Grove says the campaigns and their supporters
also use the site to launch—and respond to—political attacks. When someone posted a 1994 video of Mitt
Romney declaring himself pro-choice, his staff quickly slapped up a clip of the candidate explaining why
he's now against abortion.
Grove is making it even easier for politicians to take advantage of YouTube's reach. The site now offers each
candidate a "YouChoose" channel that lets them interact with YouTubers via video clips. Users can talk back
by posting their own video responses. The political videos of one user, Georgetown student James Kotecki,
became so popular that Ron Paul and Huckabee showed up in his dorm room for Webcam interviews. "Our
goal is to improve the way politicians and voters talk to each other," says Grove. If "Obama Girl" winds up
snagging a prime-time convention speech, Grove will know he has truly arrived.
25
THE JAPAN TIMES
From Bliss to blood
By MICHAEL HOFFMAN
Japan's 'Christian century' began in 1549. By 1640, most of the nation's 300,000 converts had been killed.
Some scholars say Japan's Christian history began long before the so-called "Christian century" (1549-c.1640).
Their claim takes us all the way back to 7th- and 8th-century Nara, where Nestorian Christians from Persia are
said to have built churches, operated a leper hospital and even converted the Empress Komyo, wife of the devout
Buddhist, Emperor Shomu (reigned 724-749), to Christianity.
The evidence is tantalizing but inconclusive. If they existed, Nara's early Christians left no mark on the culture.
Spanish and Portuguese Jesuit missionaries who arrived some 800 years later not only had to start from scratch,
they had to define scratch. How to begin to explain, in an alien language, such alien and mysterious concepts as
transcendent Godhead, the Virgin Birth, the sacrifice on the Cross of the Son of God for the redemption of
mankind?
The scale of the task is a measure of the determination of the men who faced it, and Francis Xavier, the Basque
Jesuit whose landing at Kagoshima in August 1549 inaugurates the "Christian century," was nothing if not
determined.
A prayer attributed to him begins, "Eternal God, Creator of all things, remember that the souls of unbelievers have
been created by thee and formed to thy own image and likeness. Behold, O Lord, how to thy dishonor hell is being
filled with these very souls . . . Do not permit, O Lord, I beseech thee, that thy divine Son be any longer despised
by unbelievers . . . ''
Thus fortified, the future saint went to work on the Japanese.
Xavier had by then been in Asia seven years. He arrived in Goa, "the Rome of India," capital of Portugal's Far
Eastern empire, in 1542. He traveled vast distances, much of his missionary work unfolding among cannibals and
warriors of remote South Asian islands.
In 1547 he was on his way back to Goa when he heard at Malacca, in today's Malaysia, encouraging reports of a
new Asian discovery. Four years earlier some Portuguese traders blown off-course by a storm had been the first
Europeans known to set foot in Japan. "There," wrote Xavier, "according to the Portuguese, much fruit might be
gained for the increase of our holy faith, more than in any other part of the Indies, for they are a people most
desirous of knowledge, which the Indian heathen are not."
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
29
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
At Malacca he met a Japanese, a sometime pirate named Yajiro: "He came to seek me with a great desire to know
about our religion." Yajiro, christened Paul, became Xavier's companion and interpreter. He proved a mixed
blessing.
Japan in the 16th century was disintegrating. Feudal lord fought feudal lord; combat had become endemic. "There
was not a province in Japan," writes the historian George Sansom, "free from the armed rivalry of territorial
barons or lords of the [Buddhist] church." Few in 1549 would have foreseen the firmly united nation that was to
emerge 50 years later.
Nor was there much in Xavier's first faltering steps in this unknown land to suggest the groundswell of success
soon to reward the Jesuits' unshakable confidence and dedication. The success was brilliant but fleeting. It ended
tragically in what Engelbert Kaempfer, a German physician and chronicler stationed at Nagasaki early in the 18th
century, called "the most cruel persecution and torture of Christians ever witnessed on this globe . . . lasting more
than 40 years until the last drop of Christian blood was spilled."
RELATED LINKS
Japan's 'Hidden Christians'
One missionary's 'swamp' is another's 'religion allergy' challenge
Xavier, Yajiro and two Jesuit companions boarded a Chinese pirate ship at Malacca and disembarked at
Kagoshima in southern Kyushu. Xavier was impatient to push on to Kyoto and convert "the king of Japan." The
trouble was, there was no "king of Japan," only an emperor who was powerless and a shogun, Ashikaga
Yoshiteru, who was even more so. Central authority had altogether broken down. The bringers of the Word would
have to be content to deal with warlords.
These were, for the most part, accommodating. The Kyushu and southern Honshu daimyo were quick to see the
value of Portuguese backing, Portuguese trade and, of course, Portuguese guns, first introduced into Japanese
warfare around this time. If a courteous reception of the missionaries brought such rewards, it seemed a small
price to pay.
Xavier and his little band were first welcomed at Kagoshima by the "king of Satsuma" — the daimyo Shimazu
Takahisa. He granted them permission to preach in the streets, and listened to them dispute the finer points of
ultimate reality with a group of Zen monks. Yajiro's skills as an interpreter, which modern scholars do not rate
highly, must have been taxed to the limit. Still, the mutual goodwill among the parties was such that the
missionaries were deeply distressed when the monks declined baptism — "preferring," laments the contemporary
Jesuit chronicler Luis Frois, "to land lost and miserable in hell."
The padres did better on the streets, baptizing, according to Frois, 150 people in the 10 months they were there.
Yamaguchi in southern Honshu was their next stop, and there too the "king" was cordial, at least at first. His
sudden change of mood suggests the thin ice the missionaries trod. Here is Sansom's account: "Xavier had an
audience with [the daimyo Ouchi Yoshitaka], at whose request he told the interpreter to read in Japanese a
document, already prepared, which gave the elements of Christian doctrine. This included a discourse upon error
and sin. When the reader came to a passage on sodomy, describing those guilty of this offense as filthier than
swine and lower than dogs, the daimyo changed color and dismissed them, no doubt because he, in common with
many military men and monks in that part of Japan, was given to such habits. The interpreter thought they might
have their heads cut off, but they left safely . . . "
As in Kagoshima, Xavier in Yamaguchi got on well with the Buddhist priests. Here the prevailing sect was
Shingon, which worships the Buddha Vairocana, Dainichi in Japanese. A befuddled Yajiro convinced Xavier that
Dainichi was none other than the Catholic "Deus-sama" in Oriental dress, that Shingon and Christianity were
essentially one.
This was good news indeed, but it did not bear scrutiny. "[Xavier] approached the monks again," writes Sansom,
"and questioned them on the mystery of the Holy Trinity, asking whether they believed the second Person of the
Trinity had become a man and had died on the cross to save mankind. The Shingon monks were accustomed to
mysteries, but these things were so strange to them that they seemed like fables or dreams, and some laughed at
what the father said."
Realizing his mistake, Xavier turned acerbic. He now taught, says Frois, that Shingon was "an invention of the
devil, as also were all the other sects of Japan."
Xavier left Japan in 1551, strangely enough more hopeful than discouraged. Stranger still, his hope was borne out
— for a time; a very brief time . . .
On July 24, 1587, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the second of the three great unifiers of Japan — and by then Japan's most
powerful warlord — issued an edict giving the foreign purveyors of the "pernicious doctrine" 20 days to leave the
country.
It was a bolt out of the blue. Christianity's prospects had flowered splendidly in the 36 years since Xavier's
departure. By 1582 there were 200 churches serving an estimated 150,000 native Christians. Common people
aside, the Jesuits had friends and allies in high places, none friendlier or higher than Hideyoshi himself, or so it
seemed. Had he not, in 1586, granted the padres the right to reside and preach the gospel unmolested "in all the
lands of Japan?"
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
30
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
Here and there, though not everywhere, Christianity was starting to look like the wave of the future. Omura
Sumitada, lord of the territory surrounding Nagasaki, became Japan's first Christian daimyo, receiving baptism in
1563 and being given the Christian name Bartholomeu. Eleven years later, beset by regional enemies, he was
extricated by a Portuguese fleet — in return for which, suggested the Jesuit Gaspar Coelho, Bartolomeu ought, as
the chronicler Frois records, "to extinguish totally the worship and veneration of the idols in his lands" until "not a
single pagan remained."
The result was Japan's first forcible mass conversion. Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines were burned to the
ground, and Christianity at one stroke gained 60,000 new converts. (A similar if less violent mass conversion was
imposed in 1577 on the nearby Shimabara Peninsula. It bore tragic fruit six decades later, as we shall see.)
To the east of Bartolomeu's domain lay the province of Bungo, whose daimyo, Otomo Sorin, had been welldisposed towards the Portuguese since Xavier's passage through his territory in 1551. His lively protestations, in
letters to the Portuguese base at Macao, of respect for "the things of God" and "the Christians who are in my
kingdom" accompany requests for arms, making it difficult to ascertain which side of the spiritual-temporal divide
was uppermost in his mind. On the one hand, he did not accept baptism until 1578; on the other hand, having
accepted it, he seems to have embraced the new faith wholeheartedly. History knows him best as "Good King
Francisco" — and his wife, deeply and (so it is said) shrewishly anti-Christian, as "Jezebel."
Like his neighbor Bartolomeu, Good King Francisco indulged a passion for temple- and shrine-burning — most
notably in a neighboring province he invaded in May 1578, intending, Frois tells us, to turn it into a model
Christian community.
Alas, the victory proved short-lived. The defeated enemy rallied and Francisco fled back to Bungo — evidence, to
Frois, of God's wish to "punish the people of Bungo" for sins which "had accumulated to an extent that God could
no longer ignore."
Hideyoshi's abrupt expulsion order opens the final act of the drama of the "Christian century." Mildly enforced at
first, it culminated in the relentless torture and persecution Kaempfer speaks of, an agonizing, appalling,
ultimately futile mass martyrdom whose most obvious parallel is a supremely ironic one — the martyrdom the
Catholic Inquisitions were simultaneously inflicting on "heretics" in Europe.
Crucifixion was one of the many punishments meted out to Japan's large Christian community in the early 1600s.
For 10 years there were few signs that Hideyoshi meant business. Missionary activity and Christian worship
carried on much as before, officials looking on tolerantly as new converts were brought daily into the fold.
In 1596 Hideyoshi had only two years left to live. Might history have been different if the pilot of a Spanish
galleon from the Philippines had not in that year boasted of the power of the Spanish Empire, and of the
missionaries who pave the way for its overseas conquests?
Thus provoked, Hideyoshi acted swiftly. On Feb. 5, 1597 in Nagasaki, 26 Christians — six Spanish Franciscans
and 20 Japanese — were crucified. "To the protests of the Governor of the Philippines," writes Sansom,
"[Hideyoshi] replied that the Spaniards had no more right to introduce their religion into Japan than had the
Japanese to preach the worship of their own gods in the Philippines."
In 1614, national unification all but complete, Hideyoshi's successor Tokugawa Ieyasu delivered the coup de
grace. "The Kirishitan band," he declared, "have come to Japan . . . to disseminate an evil law, to overthrow true
doctrine, so that they may change the government of the country . . . This . . . must be crushed."
It was. Within 30 years, Christians numbering 300,000 out of a total population of 20 million were either
slaughtered wholesale, tortured and murdered individually, or else driven so deep underground that scarcely a
trace of their existence was to surface for 250 years.
As persecution intensified, the Jesuits were nonplussed by a Japanese trait they had not previously noticed. "They
race to martyrdom," observed Father Organtino, "as if to a festival." The Christian view of suicide as sinful made
few inroads against the traditional Japanese view of it as glorious.
"Fifty-five persons of all ages and both sexes," wrote the English trader Richard Cocks of a scene he witnessed in
October 1619, "[were] burnt alive on the dry bed of the Kamo River in Kyoto, among them little children of 5 or 6
years old in their mothers' arms, crying out, 'Jesus receive their souls!' "
But these public executions, the authorities soon realized, were not having their desired effect. Far from terrifying
the Christians into renouncing their faith, they only made Paradise seem that much nearer. Subtler tortures were
called for, and were soon devised. Their aim was to induce apostasy before, or sometimes instead of, death. Three
torments are especially notorious: the onsen, the fumie and the pit.
The first amounted to being slowly boiled alive in scalding natural hot springs. The second involved having
suspected Christians trample holy images of Jesus and Mary. Refusal exposed them as Christians. Many trampled;
many refused, preferring martyrdom.
RELATED LINKS
Japan's 'Hidden Christians'
One missionary's 'swamp' is another's 'religion allergy' challenge
"For non-Christians," writes theologian Stephen Turnbull in "The Kakure Kirishitan of Japan" (see accompanying
story), "stamping on the fumie eventually acquired the air of an annual ritual eagerly awaited as one of the many
New Year celebrations, but to the [Christians], fumie never lost its horror, even in cases where the authorities
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
31
III Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. J.Kochanowskiego w Krakowie
required only the outward sign of apostasy . . . Prayers were said to counteract the blasphemy, and in one
community there was a ritual of burning the straw sandals worn when treading on the image, mixing the ashes
with water and drinking the result."
The pit was said to be the most horrible torture of all. Historian C.R. Boxer describes it: "The victim was tightly
bound around the body as high as the breast (one hand being left free to give the signal of recantation) and then
hung downwards from a gallows into a pit which usually contained excreta and other filth, the top of the pit being
level with his knees. In order to give the blood some vent, the forehead was lightly slashed with a knife. Some of
the stronger martyrs lived for more than a week in this position, but the majority did not survive more than a day
or two."
The "Christian Century" ends with the Shimabara rebellion of 1637-38. Ivan Morris calls it a "holocaust," a word
no modern historian would use lightly. The Shimabara Peninsula in western Kyushu was then a desperately poor
outback whose starved peasants were mercilessly squeezed for taxes far beyond their capacity to pay. Default
invited torture as ghastly and imaginative as that meted out to Christians. How much the uprising was motivated
by poverty and how much by Christian ideals remains in dispute. Its leader was a charismatic 15-year-old named
Amakusa Shiro, known to his followers as "heaven's messenger." Miraculous powers were attributed to him.
Ensconsed in the abandoned Hara Castle that they seized as their stronghold were 37,000 rebels — peasants and
low-ranking samurai, all at least nominally Christian. For five months they held out against impossible odds, but
the end, barring a miracle, was never in doubt.
"The slaughter on 15th April [1638]," writes Morris, "was one of the greatest in all Japan's sanguinary history.
The nearby rivers and inlets were clogged with decapitated bodies."
Amakusa Shiro was beheaded, his head publicly gibbeted in Nagasaki. Rebels who weren't massacred hurled
themselves into the flames of the burning castle. Morris quotes a contemporary daimyo — steeped in samurai
rather than Christian ideals — as commenting, "For people of their low station this was indeed a praiseworthy
way of dying. Words cannot express [my admiration]."
Shimabara marks Japan's retreat into more than 200 years of isolation from the outside world. It also marks the
end, until modern times, of open Christian worship in Japan. For the next two centuries the story of Japanese
Christianity is that of the "Kakure Kirishitan," the "Hidden Christians."
Michael Hoffman's latest book, "Birnbaum: A Novel of Inner Space," will be published early next year by Printed
Matter Press. His Web site can be found at www.michaelhoffman.squarespace.com
The Japan Times: Sunday, Dec. 23, 2007
(C) All rights reserved
Readings Most Wanted: Upper-intermediate to advanced
Agata Adamska
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