Surrealism

 


Surrealism or beyond reality is closely associated with the art movement to which Dali, Miro and Breton belonged. There's supposed to be a clear demarcation between the surrealist movement with its creative depictions of subconscious awareness and those strange or ethereal experiences we describe as surreal. I'm not at all convinced that I understand the difference, least of all in recent days when the objective phenomena of the real world seem to have been taken over by the bizarre.



Take the garden, for instance. Here we are at the beginning of November when I desperately want to tuck my pots and greenhouse up for the winter but still the plants are blooming. Will the tomatoes actually ripen before the frost bites under the unheated glass? How long before the geraniums fade and I can empty the hanging baskets? Should I feel at fault for picking the last of the summer's roses to enjoy indoors? Can the vegetable plot  actually continue to feed us through the winter? What on earth are the nasturtiums doing still flowering? This is North Yorkshire, the clocks have gone back, the days are noticeably shorter, there was even a snowfall on the high fells of the Pennines last night and yet still the beds retain their foliage.



 

If that wasn't strange enough, here we are in the middle of Northern England, surrounded by lockdowns and restrictions and still, thankfully, no evidence of the virus in the village in which we live. The thought did cross our minds that at some stage our district must succumb and enter one of those strange tiers under which so many of our neighbouring areas, our relatives and friends have been living. It hasn't happened and instead, the whole country is now being placed in lockdown, which, without the colours in the garden, one might more accurately describe as a blackout, stretching, as is planned, into December and the depths of winter. It seems that this year, we are to put ourselves away before the garden.

Then yesterday, there was another dreadful terrorist attack in Europe prompting our government to up the national security alert level. An attack is now highly likely. What a dark time of year this could really turn out to be.

Transcending all local and national aspects today, however, has been the political coverage, bringing back memories of a flight home from San Diego four years ago. We took off as the US polling stations were closing, with speculation as to the likely outcome of the Presidential election rife on the television screens in the airport lounge. The British Airways captain obtained notification of the result from Canadian Air Traffic Control and woke us with a tannoy announcement at 3am to impart the news bulletin. The stunned shock that reverberated around that aircraft cabin was palpable and remains with me to this day. 

Please America, in this strange, strange world of 2020 can you lead the way and let me wake tomorrow morning from this dystopian nightmare of a year to something that might just signal a return to global normality?




Comments

Treaders said…
I imagine that pilot's announcement was just stunning wasn't it!
Caree Risover said…
4 years later, I can still hear his voice and now I’m drumming my fingers wondering if the US voters are actually going to turn that result around, so it stops haunting me.

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