Had this incredible, sarsaparilla-tasting beer from the Fortuna brewery in Miłosław, a very small town in central west Poland, over the weekend:
Have had a few Fortuna beers before, thinking they were okay without being anything special, but this dark, sarsaparilla-tasting beer was a dream. At 5.6% strength, the initial sarsaparilla taste was followed by a subtle beer taste, and the beer was quite light to drink despite being quite strong.
Yeah, I'll be having this beer again, for sure.
Some four and possibly five-leaved clovers picked by my wife in Eastern Poland.
Such clovers are the symbol of good luck, of course, guess that most people could do with a bit of that at the moment.
At long last, my book on Polish LDS (Mormon) recruitment/conversion process has been printed after working on it for 10-12 years.
This is just the grey version of the book necessary for a doctoral defense. It mainly explores how the wider Polish social background; pre-LDS background/experience; LDS religious training; and LDS social interaction may help or hinder LDS recruitment and conversion.
By recruitment, I mean the processes that lead to a person joining the LDS Church through receiving LDS baptism/confirmation. In contrast, conversion refers to the different types of temple-going and non-temple going converts that a small number of Poles become after LDS baptism/confirmation.
In the book, there is the traditional doctoral structure of an Introduction (of me as the researcher and the topic); a Literature Review (covering theory on general and LDS conversion process); a Methodology section (justifying my participant observation and interviewing techniques); a Context section (describing the two Warsaw LDS branches where I did my research); the Empirical chapters (relating my data to the theory); and a final chapter which ties everything together, and gives my own view of Polish LDS recruitment/conversion process.
Had this Piast beer the other week and it was wonderful, 5.5% alcohol but light and tasty to drink.
Have just read that Piast is a defunct brewery in Wrocław, which makes me wonder where the Piast that I got comes from, but wherever it's from, they sure did a good job.
Guess this is why several Polish friends have said that Piast is a rare beer, difficult to find.
Currently encountering quite a few Polish beers with a subtle hoppy taste including the one below, Pilsvar Goralskie:
This delicately hoppy beer is brewed in the small town of Grybów in the southern, Nowy Sącz district of Poland.
And the subtle hoppy IPA below is from the Książęce brewery which seems to be connected with the mainstream Tyskie brewery:
Both the beers above were a pleasure to drink.
Don't usually like wheat beer but this Franziskaner dunkel-wheat beer was okay, it was a bit like two beers rolled into one.
Have just read that this beer is brewed in Munich, Bavaria, so no big surprises there, as Bavaria is a beer-drinker's paradise.
Because all the graves were dated between 1939 and 1945.
It was good to see that this cemetery was well-kept, a sign of respect to the fallen soldiers.
First, I met two British bulldogs, with the first one (above) being curious about me, while for the second one (below), the mid-afternoon heat was too much:
After this, I met an elegant-looking grey cat:
I'm guessing that it was a female cat and with her velvet-like grey coat, she almost had perfect camouflage on the driveway to the book printer's place.
Saw the tribute to Polish pilots from the 2nd World War below in the Arch-Cathedral of St. John the Baptist (or the church next to it) in Warsaw Old Town:
Can remember seeing a similar tribute to Polish pilots in a Catholic church in Blackpool, Lancashire, many years ago.
The shot below is from inside the Arch-Cathedral of St. John the Baptist:
I've passed this place many times, but this was probably the first time I've been inside. Have just read that the Arch-Cathedral dates back to the 14th century. I really like the patriotic Polish flags flying high inside the place.
The shot below is the door of the church which literally stands next door to the Arch-Cathedral:
Not sure what to make of such art, to be honest.
One of the few good things about the Covid situation is that the usually crowded tourist areas in Warsaw are deserted, which makes it easier to relax and take in the surroundings.
For example, despite having walked along Krakowskie Przedmieście hundreds of times, I'd never really noticed the side-on view of the Hotel Bristol above.
To be honest, I'd never really noticed how beautifully statuesque the buildings on Krakowskie Przedmieście are in general:
This gluten-free beer, brewed by the Staropolski (Old Polish) brewery in Zduński Wola in the Łódź area of Poland, was okay:
On the Staropolski website, it can be seen that the brewery, which seems to date back to the late 19th century, brews loads and loads of different beers, including the hoppy lager below:
Have ended up drinking a few Staropolski beers because an old-fashioned supermarket not far from where I live sells quite a few of them. The one below is a wheat beer:
A Polish friend lead me to drinking the real Budweiser/Budwar which is brewed in the Czech Republic.
I was grateful because this authentic Budweiser/Budvar is a wonderful, fresh, tingling lager, offering a kind of champagne-drinking sensation.
This combination worked a treat, vegan burger and grated courgette:
The cheese and tomato added a bit to the taste as well, of course.
For years, I've been looking for a weak beer with a great taste and eventually I've found one. Despite only being 3.8%, this Kozel kind of dark mild is fantastic:
Don't think I'll be travelling far again this summer, but hopefully, I'll get to Zwierzyniec again:
Really like how the river greets you in Zwierzyniec.
Went to Zwierzyniec on the last day of summer last year when things were shutting down for autumn:
A quick snap of my beer bottle top collection which now numbers 55 items:
The bottle tops serve as a reminder of the wide range of beers (bitter, sweet, mild, hoppy, ginger-tasting etc.) that I've tried due to my beer-tasting hobby.
Most of the beers I've tried thus far have been mainstream and regional Polish ones, with a few Czech, Slovakian, and German ones thrown in too.
Kotek had an interesting visitor today:
He quickly came face to face with his visitor:
Perhaps this is why Kotek has been hanging round the window so much recently:
Nice shot of a statue of St. Peter holding the keys to the Gates of Heaven at the front of the Church of the Holy Cross in Warsaw.
Was interesting to see the Church of the Holy Cross side-on, just as it was getting dark:
I could more fully see just what a beautiful building it is:
A Laodicean, first published in 1880/1881, is one of Thomas Hardy’s lesser-known novels as it lacks the gut-wrenching tragedy of The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886); Tess of the d’Urbervilles (1891); Jude the Obscure (1895) etc. Still, it is a fascinating read as it thematically revolves around a sense of the remnants of the pre-modern world being lost, and the confusion/psychological pain that this process brings. The latter is mainly seen through Hardy’s portrayal of one of the central characters of the novel, Paula Power.
Throughout the novel, Paula suffers from an internal struggle between having a nostalgic longing for the nobility and aesthetic beauty of the medieval world, symbolised by the old castle that she has inherited from her late father, and recognising that the remnants of this world have been eclipsed by a simpler, drab, but more comfortable modern world. Intermingled with all this is Paula’s growing relationship with the young budding architect and Romantic figure of George Somerset. Paula is first encountered in an early scene where she is about to be baptised into the Baptist faith but cannot go through with this act of formal religious transition. All of this is observed with interest by Somerset who seems to be a bit of a religious seeker, himself, which becomes more apparent in another early scene where he uses New Testament extracts and arguments from early Church fathers to defend infant baptism against the protestations of the Baptist minister, Mr. Woodwell. In response, the latter claims that Paula is “vulnerable to the Medieval influences” of her castle.
Still early on in the novel, Paula tells Somerset that she isn’t a “medievalist” but more of a “Greek”. After Hardy describes the “stagnation” and redundancy of Stancy Castle chapel, in another scene, Woodwell informs Somerset that Paula was receiving visits from “people of old cavalier families” who believed in “Apostolic Succession”; was influenced by her close friend, Charlotte De Stancy, whose family had lost their aristocratic standing; and had never forgiven Woodwell, himself, for a sermon in which he had compared her to “the church at Laodicea” (a church in St. John’s Book of the Apocalypse/Book of Revelation renowned for being lukewarm in belief). In the second half of the novel, Woodwell tells Somerset that Paula has moved away from her “family creed of Calvinistic truth” towards the more classical De Stancy worldview. During a quiet moment, Somerset reflects on Paula being a “personification of the modern spirit”, but he also recognises that she is influenced by a “chink of medievalism” which prompts some kind of “Romanticism” inside her.
The action of the novel heats up in the last 60-70 pages, with some of the most pivotal scenes being set in France. In one key scene, Charlotte De Stancy’s brother (and George Somerset’s rival for Paula) accompanies Paula to a cathedral in Paris, possibly Notre-Dame. De Stancy points out that Paula’s roundhead ancestors had destroyed his ancestors’ castle, plus the statues and stained glass in a (probably high church) cathedral, and yet she was now heading towards a Catholic cathedral. As the pair enter the cathedral, the “evening darkness” is “scarcely broken” by a few “dotted about candles”. After a while, they move to the choir section where they are greeted with a “blaze of light, partly from the altar” and “more particularly” from the image of a saint who some people “had assembled to honour” which was “surrounded by candles” and many “flowering plants”. Here, a “secondary radiance” from the candles is “reflected upward into their faces by the polished marble pavement” which is only “interrupted” by the “shady forms of the officiating priests”. Moreover, Paula points out that the women competing to regain their flower pots near the saint’s image spoils the “solemn effect” of what had gone on before. When De Stancy accuses Paula of being a “‘harsh Puritan’”, she reveals that she’s often accused of being “‘worldly’” and “‘half-and-half’”, which reintroduces the recurring theme of Paula not quite being anything concrete in belief. For me, this church scene is fascinating as Hardy describes it in almost theatrical terms, and as a non-Catholic, he seems to be scratching at the surface of certain aesthetic aspects that accompany Catholic religious practice. In response, I have often wondered that if Hardy had dug further into this aesthetic dimension, he may have become interested in Catholic doctrines, and who knows what this may have lead to.
A little later on, Paula goes looking for Somerset and the “beauties” of architecture in Lisieux. Despite having to pass some “dreary suburban erections” from “the railway to the old quarter of town”, Paula knew that Somerset would be working at one of the “medieval buildings”. She then visits a “large church” which would have made “any Gothic architect take lodgings in its vicinity for a fortnight”. Having failed to find Somerset at the monumental church of St. Jacques, Paula becomes enchanted by a “steep narrow street of antique character”, and is “transported to the Middle Ages” encountering a scene that a “medievalist” would “revel in” and “die and be buried in”. For Paula, this street is the living personification of the “imaginations of antiquarians” with “smells from” the 16th century hanging in the air “in all their original integrity and without a modern taint”. Thus, while surrounded by such medieval grandeur, Paula appears to have some kind of epiphany through which she gains a connection with an old world not completely lost.
While still seeking the elusive Somerset in Caen, Paula visits a church near her hotel to help pass away a “dull dispiriting evening”. Inside, the church is only lit by “seven candles burning before the altar” of a side chapel, with the “mass of the building being in deep shade”, and some “motionless outlines” slowly revealing themselves to be “kneeling women”. Momentarily, the unlocking of a confessional door by a priest “sounded in the silence”. After a short while, a priest leads Paula to the room of Mr. Cockton, Somerset’s assistant. Cockton reveals that Somerset “was sick and tired of holy places” and was striving to find “‘some wicked spot or other” to attain some “consolation which holiness could not give’”, although he may not have really meant this. Hence, Somerset may have become disillusioned through losing the motivation to pursue a medieval or Romantic outlook lost in past time. In contrast, Paula does not seem able to shake off her pursuit of Romantic experience and perception.
When finally catching up with Somerset, Paula is told that she is “an enigma always”, and she acknowledges that Somerset “‘knows a good many fibres’” of her character fearing that “‘some uncanny influence of the dead De Stancys would drive” her away “from him” again. In another turn of events, Charlotte De Stancy sends Paula a letter revealing that she has joined a “‘Protestant sisterhood’” so as “‘to steal’” herself away from the modern “‘social world’” that she rejects to attain a “‘resting place till the great rest comes’”. In her “‘secluded home’”, Charlotte promises to be even more devoted to her “‘very best friend’” with “‘continuing love and friendship’” as Paula would “‘always be’” somehow with her. In response, Paula weeps at Charlotte’s decision, and Somerset tries to console her by saying that Charlotte “‘was genuine, if anybody ever was’”. Here, Somerset may be suggesting that Charlotte is not a social actor, with the latter role possibly being a prerequisite for living in an increasingly modern world. Regarding this, Paula views herself as a “‘representative of the new aristocracy of internationality”, while Charlotte represents an “‘old aristocracy of exclusiveness’”. Moreover, Paula acknowledges that she is what “‘poor Mr. Woodwell said’”, a Laodicean from the Book of the Apocalypse/Book of Revelation, a “‘neither cold nor hot’” person who cannot submit his/her will to believe in things strongly. Reflecting on her modern self, Paula believes that for her, “‘lukewarmth is not an accident but a provisional necessity’”, recognising that even people’s “‘best emotions’” are only “‘transitory’”.
After De Stancy Castle is burnt down, Paula and Somerset decide against “‘rebuilding’” it unless “compelled” to do so. Moreover, they decide to leave “the edifice in ruins” and to live in a “mansion of independent construction” near “the old one” to be “unencumbered with the ghosts of an unfortunate line”. To emphasise this, Somerset tells Paula that the “winter rains will soon wash away the unsightly smoke from the walls”, with De Stancy Castle becoming “‘beautiful in its decay’”. He also predicts that Paula will recover from a mental “‘warp’” caused by the “‘medievalism’” of the “‘place’”. In response, Paula questions whether she can ever perfectly accept and represent the “‘modern spirit’”, wishing that Somerset was a De Stancy and that her castle had not been burnt down. Thus, Paula cannot become a fully modern person because she cannot completely let go of her pursuit of a medieval or Romantic ethos, being trapped between the drab reality of her real, current world and a nostalgic longing for a more heroic world that has been lost in past time. Here, Thomas Hardy seems to be diagnosing a central feature of the melancholia suffered by sentient modern people who seek a return to something more beautiful, heroic, and metaphysical. Of course, Hardy’s focus on the destructive effects of modern human melancholia is far more pronounced in his great tragedies: The Woodlanders (1887) and The Return of the Native (1878), and especially The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886), Tess of the d’Urbervilles (1891), and Jude the Obscure (1895). But all this is another story, of course.
