From Oslo to Scottish independence

(via Venice and Jesus Queen Of Heaven)

“Oslo. City of dreams.  City of the sea…

A city of music and secret harmonies,

Which glorifies in the arts of life

And has forgotten all the arts of war.

Where swords rust in their sheaths

And cannons moulder in dark corners.

Seabirds sing in the streets.

Wine flows from the fountains.

The prisons are empty.

Every door is open,

And the people have thrown away the keys.”

Actually I was imagining Venice when I wrote those lines.

I’d never been to Oslo, and never even imagined I ever would.

But here I am. Or rather was, and the lines fit somehow, even if they represent an Oslo of the imagination….

KING. I can’t find it on the map.

Says the decrepit king, who in my LOSING VENICE I guess maybe represents the decrepit British state.

SECRETARY.  We had it removed.

Says his obsequious secretary of state, and then the king says

KING. Of course.  It displeased us.

…. and the Tories would, in fact, happily remove Norway off the map if they possibly could, because this social democratic state with its high taxes, its relatively low levels of inequality and its functioning systems of social care, this state that was smart enough to figure out how to use its oil revenues for its own benefit…

….this state is a permanent reproach to the tories with their sclerotic, unjust, exploitative and increasingly non-functioning state.

And so they do their level best not to think about it.

For me, coming to a well-ordered functioning city like Oslo after the squalid congested chaos of Edinburgh in August felt like entering a glimpse of paradise.

And so did leaving the overcrowded, hideously competitive, grotesquely exploitative, and miserably unhappy Edinburgh Festival Fringe feel a bit like leaving hell.

Actually I need to say that my venue, the Scottish Storytelling Centre, has managed as best it can to create a supportive atmosphere for artists and audience; and there was something of that spirit in the utterly delightful Politisk Korrekt teaterfestival I’ve just been to.

What I loved about it was that it was small, it was manageable, and that everything being presented, was so different, so intelligently chosen, and so good to watch.

And because artists and audience were meeting in an environment where they were being looked after, treated with respect, and with absolutely no need to compete with each other, it was so lovely to be part of it, and I had such lovely encounters and made many many friendships.

And then there was the intense pleasure and joy of witnessing the presence of the Norwegian Queen Jesus (which I must write about soon) and it was the crowning part of a beautiful experience.

Of course the grass always looks greener on the other side and no doubt it is also difficult for artists in Norway…

And no doubt it is absurd to call Oslo a “paradise” because it obviously will have its share of misery, inequality, homelessness and injustice.

But I don’t think I’d be wrong to say there is a sense of hope about the place. A sense of a society really beginning to try to come to grips with the crisis.

As opposed to the government in Westminster trying to pretend the crisis does not exist, and pretending that the workings of the market that have led us to this disaster will somehow lead us out again.

And how good it was yesterday to stand on a the deck of a ship taking me over the water to Denmark and reflect on the sea lanes that join us in Scotland to the countries of the North.

I’m thinking of Baltic Street, so close to my home in Leith, and all the connections represented in our neighbourhood street names.

That is where we belong, I can’t help thinking, as we try to detach ourselves from, and heal ourselves from, decades of criminal mismanagement of our affairs.

We don’t belong to Westminster Square, that’s for sure: not in that closed, decaying area of antiquated thinking and imperialist values.

Not there. Not stuck in a fortified and decaying past.

But in Baltic Street: where energy flows towards a new and different future.

Or if you’d like to, do feel free to comment. I love reading what you say and try to respond to everybody…

And I think there’s a button for that too, somewhere…