Shackled Hearts

The Maltese blogosphere is enriched by the comeback of the articulate UK based broadcaster Richard Marlowe. Richard, who shares my admiration for the work of English playwright Joe Orton and Maltese poet Charles Flores, formerly blogged at 'Simple as ABC'. Following a break from the blog scene he returns with an ever better blog called Shackled Hearts. In this piece he writes about his affinity and interest in the affairs of the Maltese islands as well as about his imminent return to the "country he loves and admires":

I have taken a deep, some would say, personal interest in these evocative islands for more years than I care to remember. The only thing is, I have always remained in the background ... the shy man who, like Gustave Aschenbach in Thomas Mann's Death in Venice remains an observer. The difference between Mann's 'Aschenbach' and myself is there is no 'doomed Greek god' or any individual of worshipable(?) value - but there is this real love for the simplicity that hides (or tries to disguise) the complexity which is Malta.

So, to cut a very long story short ... I have observed the Republic from behind a veil as an outsider. Secretly I have witnessed the political comings and goings. Nobody knows, apart from you now, dear reader, how my heart has privately leapt and sunk with every political ebb and flow. Only you know now how I have sat alone, peacefully in street cafes, bars and restaurants - watching, learning, digesting. Only you now know how I have steered clear of the package deal, burnt-out, red-faced, drunken, holidaymaker. And only you know how I have dreaded the reaction of Maltese who observe my fellow country folk on their 'jolly jaunts' - the level I cringe when I see the Brits make a tit of themselves abroad is beyond words.

Now, as maturity grasps my mortality with an irreversible grip I am planning to remove the veil and retire into the society that has grabbed my attention for so long. But, dear reader, I am a mere youngster in my 50's with a wealth of life's experiences behind me. So, I feel that whilst the 'McFly' generation probably regard me old, knackered and generally washed-up, I intend the relish the best years of my life in the country I have so secretly loved and admired for so very long. You must understand ... It is your fault - you have seduced me - I had no chance - I took one look at you up close and from afar you sucked me in and now, I am helpless!!

As part of my 'distant shy admiration' I have secretly been a fan (oh! that word is so tacky!) of the Maltese poet, journalist and media person, Charles Flores. His words go straight to the heart:

Stepping Stone

Nothing takes the place of youth
A flower wrinkling underneath
The heartless thud of time.
I am the good old lad - la la la la Of Dylan, Donovan.
There's a song that reminds me
Of our days and lost embrace,
Of the time we spent in happiness
Of the love that we exchanged.

AND

It's this
That makes me shudder
As I step into manhood.
Nothing takes the place of youth.
Here's a dagger,
Here's a knife.
Cut the flower.
Cut my life.

A voice from Kalkara
New Broom Press, Leicester1974
ISBN: 0901870188