Bingewatch finale

Tuesday passed uneventfully, apart from a visit to the wound clinic, and another couple of episodes of Professor T watched with great interest, as his own back story of suppressed trauma continues to come out in fits and starts, in between working on crimes in his original way.  There's no knowing how it will all end.

Wednesday morning, I celebrated the St Catherine's midweek Eucharist, went for an acupuncture treatment again at the Natural Health Clinic after lunch. It did me a power of good, as I was feeling pretty drained after a few not so good days. In the evening I watched the last two episodes of Professor T - a conclusion, in which the mystery underlying his eccentric behaviour is revealed in full. It's a tragic story which concludes with the death of his mother, after a reconciliation brings closure in his often troubled relationship with her and his senior university colleague. It brings a measure of healing and liberation for him from dark shadows of his unhappy childhood. 

The thirty nine episodes of this movie series, like a thick blockbuster novel, portrays a gifted, highly intelligent, learned man going through a colossal mid-life crisis, involving a nervous breakdown, a spell in prison, his trial for murder - in effect, for involuntary manslaughter, given his state of mind, then reconciliation with those closest to him, recovery, and resumption of his professional life as an acclaimed university criminology teacher. A bit far fetched, and whimsical maybe, but the story's credibility rests on his reputation for uncompromising truth telling, even when it comes to the truth about himself. His profound inner pain is in part due to inability to plumb the depths of his own pain. It's quite a breakthrough when he finds he can entrust himself to a gifted therapist.

On top of a moving deathbed scene, there's a remarkable finale, in which his close colleagues and friends gather in a downpour to lay his mother to rest. A new-to-series-three police colleague has brought her newborn with her to the graveside. The sun comes out, and the baby is passed around for all to admire and cherish, even to Professor T, no longer wearing his OCD signature rubber gloves. He is smiling now in a relaxed way, his normal posture throughout having been a straight face, with the nearest to a smile he can mange more like a charmless grimace. It's a transformation. There's fine acting throughout by Koen de Bouw portraying such an odd character so consistently.

Then, spontaneously the mourners begin to dance slowly by the graveside - a dance of death? No, more a dance of life in the face of mortality. It's a coda to the drama, in the same way that a play or an opera has a festive finale plus maybe an epilogue. There was, in fact, an epilogue, delivered by the Professor in a prior scene where he is concluding his annual course of lectures. It summarises his own self-learning journey from fearing he was once a perpetrator to realising he was an unwitting victim of the violence and lies of others.

Homo sapiens, that strange creature born of evolution is still far from perfect.
So imperfect in fact, that a simple rational observation is impossible.
Whoever you thought did it didn't always do it.
And so it's important that future criminologists such as yourselves, realise that this strange creature must be approached from the heart too
So go out into the world, analyse with your mind, but judge with your heart too.

Recalling that in the story, this goes on in the unconscious mind of a highly successful and learned expert, it's a salutary reminder that great intellects in any age may be driven at least in part by neglected experiences of brokenness in life.

I enjoy crime and spy fiction as their stories address social political and moral concerns of their time and place, giving a context for wrong-doing. Investigations can dig deep in the search to identify the motives of a perpetrator, they can tell the background stories of the investigators, and may show their lives as broken, sacrificed on the altar of solving crime, but rarely do they dig as deeply into their motives as this series does with Professor T in thirty hours of drama. Well worth watching and learning from, I'd say.

Translation update in progress

We went to the Eucharist at St Catherine's third morning, but apart from a wound clinic visit after lunch, didn't go out again. This last few days Clare has been preoccupied with translating from the German sections of a new revised and updated edition of the book about the influence on babies of the usage of mobile phones tablets, TV and computers by their parents and others caring for them. It's amazing to think that it's six and a half years since we worked together on publishing an English translation of the original Swiss German version of 2008. 

Technology has developed so rapidly over the past decade, and is now so much more ubiquitous and available on demand anywhere, that risks to child development foreseen at that time have been widely researched and become more an issue of public concern and debate, although not in all quarters. A revised edition is timely to say the least, and now the generic term 'digital devices' has grown in currency, a new English edition should have a snappier title. 

When not exercising, cooking or shopping, I have been working my way through a third series of episodes of Professor T on More Four 'Walter Presents' euro-movie channel. An eccentric, thought provoking, tragi-comic Belgian crimmie, still laced with literary and philosophical quotations, and making effective use of a range of classical and modern music soundtracks, thoughtfully chosen to echo, not only the scene, but underlying dramatic themes. It requires a certain level of concentration not only for reading the subtitles to Flemish/French dialogue, but to keep up with scene switching as two connected stories unfold at the same time. Very sophisticated, well crafted and worth the effort.

Episodes in the first half of series three place the savant criminologist in prison, where he awaits trial for shooting a corrupt policeman. Initially, he is bullied but soon fellow inmates are turning to him for help and advice relating to their own cases. He gets to share a cell with a savant turned serial killer whom he helped put behind bars for life, who bears him no ill-ill, as the man has found a role and a purpose in prison life and an understanding of his murderous past. It's fascinating device, a quirky example perhaps, of the 'wounded healer' redemptive theme.

  

Learning by doing

On Wednesday, I celebrated the midweek Eucharist at St Catherine's, and on Thursday at St John's as well. Fr Mark is away this week. I'm happy to do so, as it keeps me on my toes to re-engage with the old Church in Wales 1984 rite used in both churches for weekday and Sunday eight o'clock services. Spending half the year in the diocese in Europe obliges me to use 1662 BCP and Common Worship services, and the Church in Wales equivalent 2004 modern liturgy for main Sunday services here at home. That's four different liturgies with all their minor local variations to be familiar and at home with, quite an exercise in concentration. No wonder I can feel tired sometimes afterwards!

Apart from this, a funeral request for two weeks hence, it's been a quiet uneventful week, with a cold harsh wind. Frost and snow was expected,  but we had rain instead. One way or another, there was little incentive for leisurely exercise. It was a matter of staying in and keeping warm, working my way through episodes of the Flemish TV series 'Professor T', with an occasional brisk excursion to the food shops. Some of the characters are quite quirky, making for superb comic moments, but what's interesting is the exploration of motives on the part of ordinary people who commit crimes.

Some of the discussions between the Professor and his students in case study classes are well drawn examples of a masterly teacher at work, challenging students to think deep and question themselves and their ideas as much as the case study subjects. How come, I wondered to myself, did we never have that quality of teaching in our moral and spiritual theology classes half a century ago. It seems to me we had to learn to think for ourselves away from the classroom, out of college for the most part. We were given a good survey of the subject material and its background, but most of the practical learning and good discussion happened on the job. Come to think of it, understanding how scientific method works was first of all an experience gleaned by working in a laboratory. Being able to study Philosophy of Science shed fascinating light on the process, but little would have made sense without learning by doing first.

I guess I was fortunate in being one of the few students in St Michael's to be allowed to train and work with the Samaritans, and do a regular overnight duty on suicide watch at the end of a telephone line. That stimulated a great deal of discussion among participants, and occasionally with our Samaritan duty supervisors, some of whom were clergy. At least I have reason to believe there's been a substantial improvement in theological education and ministerial formation since then. Such a pity that meanwhile so many people have parted company with the church, and vocations are far fewer. In my formative years, we were awakening to the crisis, but tragically it was too late to make much of a difference to the hemorrhage of committed believers and shrinking of the church.
  

Chilly weekend in

The start of the Six Nations international rugby tournament acted as a deterrent from going shopping in town yesterday, or for that matter, driving out of town, and having one's parking place taken by a car from out of town. Full car parks and match road closures in the city centre cause an overflow, up to a couple of miles out from the centre with visitors walking or catching the bus for the last stretch. 

It was cold, so we had little incentive to do anything other than walk to Pontcanna Fields and back before tea. By that time, visitors who'd been watching the game in one of the local pubs, were out and walking home, or to their cars. It was impossible to guess from the faces that Wales had gained a resounding victory against Scotland. Perhaps it was the cold. unless people were simply astonished.

The final episodes of the latest Engrenages/Spiral series aired in the evening.  Justice was done, with a few late surprise turns, but leaving a few loose narrative threads to propose the inevitability of a seventh series. The acting throughout was brilliant, portraying the imperfect and flawed character of key crime fighting figures, with their own personal struggles and failures to maintain integrity, faced with corruption on all sides and all levels. As movies, each episode is superbly crafted to carry the story-lines and reveal the lives, public and private of the players. It's as good as it gets.

This morning I celebrated and preached about God and creation at St Catherine's. Co-incidentally the Gospel of the day was St John's Prologue, the same Gospel as I read and preached on the last time I was here at Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and again on the Sunday after Christmas in Montreux. Not that I mind. It's one of my favourite Gospel passages to reflect and preach on. 

In an age dominated by the loud voices of advertising, propaganda and political spin, aiming to capture our minds and impose alien ideas and interpretations of reality upon us, I believe it's essential to keep on arguing and insisting that divine meaning and purpose is at the heart of all reality, and not man made substitutes. 

We had a lazy sleepy afternoon, and didn't venture out into the cold at all. I made a start on tidying my study and clearing out years worth of accumulated excess documents, leaflets, magazines and brochures, much of it financially related - years worth of terms and conditions, financial reports and notifications - there's little sign that digital banking has really diminished the volume. Sure, you can go paperless with internet banking, but the number of .pdf pages of documentation to read is still the same, and just as easily ignored, as when it's gathering dust in my office.

I was so pre-occupied with getting the backlog of necessary financial paperwork correctly filed that I missed the start of McMafia, and watched the final episodes of Professor T on Channel Four catch up instead. I'll do the same with McMafia in a day or so, when I get around to it.

  

Candlemass revisited

I ventured to the Post Office this morning to mail a parcel to old friend and colleague Bernice, with a blouse she'd left behind in Montreux. She preceded me there, doing locum duty in December. I also collected a new CBS bank card, sent to my local HSBC branch, as there is now no longer any counter service in the two City Center branches. Only banking machine services are now on offer, plus advice sessions on appointment. Does the bank no longer want to attract city business custom?  

As today is actually Candlemass day, I took a bus into town and went to Mass at St John's, to enjoy being on the receiving end for a change. In twelve days time already, Lent begins. I'm not sure I feel ready for this yet. Still, Fr Mark emailed me as I was arriving in Cardiff on Tuesday, to booked me for St Catherine's this Sunday, and who knows what else after this, while I'm back in Cardiff. Canon Sarah has booked me to stand in for her on a Lent Friday later in the month, when she has to go and make decisions about the Deanery house in St David's, where she'll live once she's inducted as Dean after Easter.

I didn't stay long in town, or go to the CBS office, as I wanted to return and have lunch with Clare, as she'll be out this evening, leaving me to while away hours watching Belgian and Swedish crime dramas on telly. How indulgent! But, it's what happens when I've been abroad, where UK catch-up TV is not available via the internet and often can't be accessed on Freesat didgy-box either. I continue to resist using a VPN to spoof my location and allow me on-line access what my UK viewing license permits me to watch freely. Frankly, I don't trust this kind of digital app to be a covert channel for malware or surreptitious bitcoin mining. Better not to take a risk with something you can't be sure of.
   

   

Home catch-up

I forgot to mention that while I was away, a new central heating boiler was fitted, and on Monday of  this week, our new secure front door was fitted, by the people who did our double glazing Secura Windows. and it looks good. There's more light in the hall due to its glazed panelling and white surfaces. The locking mechanism with a single key replacing the old pair of locks. It takes a little getting used to, as it operates dead bolts into the door frame. The previous door was fifty years old and undistinguished. This improves the appearance of the house from the street, and we joke about coming home and not being able to recognise our own front door

It's taken me a couple of days to settle down, and get back into domestic routine. Yesterday, I took my usual walk down to the river Taff. A large tree was lodged at the top of the weir beneath the footbridge. A lady walking her baby in pram told me there'd been high winds and torrential rain a few days earlier. It was hard to tell the place along the bank from which the tree had been uprooted.

Many big trees grow along the water's edge on both sides. I think they are Alders which flourish in wet zones and readily colonise a place where there's soil to take root in. Some grow for decades, if undisturbed, but the roots are shallow and tend to run through subsoil rather than go deep so they are subject to wind and water erosion where exposed, right. A few days of rain and flood water quickly masks a place where a large tree s torn out, so it's very difficult spot where it came from, along a well populated river bank.

One ivy clad Alder had split down its trunk and most of the tree now lies wedged among others on the bank. Many fallen trees not obstructing the path are left to rot back, offering a nourishing haven to insects, and that's good for bird life. As for the tree lodged in the river, I wonder if this will be removed fairly soon, as it's big enough to attract other floating detritus and build a blockage in the water, and lead to flood defences being overwhelmed. It worries me that Council budget cutbacks could lead to costly neglect. Would conservation volunteers be allowed to have a go at removing it? I wonder?

Today, we had another visit from the double glazing specialist who installed the new door, to replace the double glazed window panel which fractured due to thermal shock they day we had a home visit to order the new front door. The house is now secure and warm.

I've been playing catch-up with the More4 Water Presents series Professor T. It's interesting viewing as it's a Flemish language Belgian Crimmie, set in and around Antwerp. Flemish is related to Dutch and borrows words from English, French and German. London has a long historic relationship with Antwerp and Rotterdam due to maritime trade. It's fascinating to glimpse a little of the life of some of our nearest neighbours. 

Professor T is a psychologist and criminologist and university teacher of immense learning. He has complex mental health issues, including OCD behaviour, and a kind of autism expressing itself in what resembles Asberger's syndrome, though his remarks are delivered with often embarrassing bluntness and unapologetic honesty. It's very funny to watch with a superb supporting cast bearing with his odd behaviour patiently, because his analysis and judgements prove to be penetratingly accurate, if on times bewilderingly. This character reminded me immediately of Agatha Christie's quirky old Inspector Poirot, odd, self contained, larger than life. Another brilliant Belgian, anything but dull, despite appearances.

The crimes investigated (and I'm watching Series two first) most revolve around family relationships rather than criminal or political conspiracy. The analysis of complex motives, and inter personal dynamics as ordinary folk are precipitated into extraordinary situations is very thought provoking, as are various relationships within the workplace. Mental health and disability issues come into focus, and one of the secondary story-lines showcases senile dementia, and euthanasia, legal in Belgium, very sensitively done. It addresses serious everyday issues, and in an entertaining engaging way. Well worth a watch. I'd like to see the series on BBC Four.