Helvete, Swedish cinema
November 21, 2013 § 1 Comment
Swedish cinema really does seem, so far, to be as utterly depressing as had previously been intimated to me.
This morning I begin Sånger från andra våningen (Songs From the Second Floor, Roy Andersson, 2000) but only get 15 minutes in before closing the window on my computer and hesitating over the folder in which the film lurks on my desktop, to delete it. 15 minutes, or was it 10, of death-pallor faces and grey suits and grey buildings, the hideously naked (naked hideous) and men getting their skulls kicked in/being dragged (newly fired?) across the floor, clutching ankle (of ex-boss)? The old and fat and heart-breakingly weary. God damn it, I cannot watch this.
The sky today is white, though still black when I rose, and will be dark again by four (night coming on after three o’clock). It is growing steadily colder and I have been told: stop running outside. It’s icy and I may slip, break my skull open and die. But running helps. It gets my blood running warm and gives me an endorphin boost that quashes, topples, knocks out my unemployed immigrant sensations.
Running and breathing and meditation. Running: inhalations through the nose and longer exhalations through the mouth. Circular. The blood runs smoothly with it. Circular. Oxygen/CO2, replenishment. Focus on the breath. I cannot say Hail Marys well when I run. I can sing to music when I know the words (or scream, elatedly — alarming people in their gardens as I pass). (Chvrches is good to run to; nice and loud and upbeat.) But: focus back to the breath. Centring.
Breakfast is way up there in the scale of things good. After breakfast I decide I’ll get a yoga mat. Maybe I’ll make myself into a yoga coach. And that — that seems a positive prospect.
***** Helvete: Swedish curse word; ‘hell’ *****