Service: * * * * 1/2
Food: * * * 1/2
Ambience: * * * *
Babe Count: * * * *
I've bagged myself a sidewalk table with a power-point for my tablet pc. So I've been sitting in Rosebank watching models limping between the toilets and the modeling agency.
There've been some delicious co-sitters too. At the next table is a red-headed couple. A mom and a daughter. The mom was probably once delectable. But not really anymore. The daughter. Hmmmmmm. Yeeks. She's dressed like a Capetonian gal. Flowing white dress. Tasteful bra just barely peeking out. Full cleavage.
I've just been reading Dori's blog. In it, she has a post asking people about the 'Books and Films that 'wounded' me'. Here's my reply...
The book that blew the back of my head off, and wasted boxes and boxes of tissues was THE LAST OF THE JUST, by Andre Schwarz-Bart.The delicious redhead just stops being delicious. Her waiter is standing near her table. And she wants to hand him her payment. She says, 'Hullo? Hullll-ooo-oooooooo?!?' And says to her mom, 'Uh! They're deaf here!' Then more loudly to the waiter, 'HULLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'
It's a holocaust novel about a Jewish myth that the world is kept going by a number of 'just men' hand-picked by god to take on the suffering of all humanity.
The book is the story of the last of those just men, and it's harrowing and brilliant, and a must-read.
The other book that opened the waterworks: HOMECOMING by John Bradshaw.
This is a non-fiction book, and it helps the reader overcome childhood trauma and abuse. I worked through it on a holiday in Cape Town many years ago, and didsn't stop crying for an entire three days. I tore muscles I was crying so hard.
A film that nailed me was KORCZAK. It's about a Polish doctor who decided that he would not allow his Jewish patients to enter the concentration camps alone. He chose to die in the holocaust rather than sit back and watch as a gentile.
I've recently started working on the fact that I came from an abusive family. And I only very recently worked out why the holocaust is such a major source of pain for me.
My father lost most of his family to the holocaust. He was born in Latvia, and was on the last ship containing Jews to be allowed out of Europe.
I realise that the holocaust was ever-present in my house as I grew up, and that it was probably used -- inadvertantly or even intentionally (I don't have memories of it) -- as a tool of abuse.
Another film that really touches me, and which continues to touch me, is BETTY BLUE. It's one of the most authentic explorations -- for me -- about being an artist.
One of the other waiters taps Steven on the shoulder. He spins around, apologises.
'Oh please,' she says, and she and her mom flounce off, breasts jiggling huffily.