69. Not knowing how to live (and doing it anyway)
I.
A.L. Snijders grew up in Amsterdam, but later withdrew to an estate in the Achterhoek, where he lived in seclusion. âI am a monk, a hermit,â he writes in his first collection *I Live on the Edge of the World (1992), which I read last week. âI do not know the world, and insofar as I know it, I despise it, I fear it and I hate it.â
Ideally, Snijders would have liked to withdraw even further, into his own mind. In an episode of the VPRO series Op het nachtkastje from 2014, in which authors were profiled during Book Week, he laments having to draw from reality for a story. If only Iâd imagined it, he thinks. âThat would mean Iâm completely free from the things around me. If everything were taken out of my head, I wouldnât need newspapers and TV and birds flitting about anymore. But thatâs not the case. Thatâs actually a huge issue for me. That Iâm not self-supporting, that I need reality.â
In his columns, he muses on the meaninglessness of existence and the search for stillness whilst the world thunders on. âIt will probably sound pathetic to you, and it may not be suitable for a newspaper, but I really donât know how to live,â he sighs. Itâs simply all happening too fast for him, he writes later. âWhen Iâm home in the evening, I realise that Iâve experienced more in this one day than my grandfather did in a whole year. This is called progress, but of course it isnât.â
Now, based on these quotes, you might think that A.L. Snijders didnât enjoy it, but I donât believe that. The enjoyment practically jumps off the pages, and I relish his reflections on the Dutch language. In addition to columns, the collection also includes letters he sent to the editor of the newspaper along with the submitted text. In these, he delves deeper into his writing and points out that his columns must be reproduced very precisely. Even apparent errors are deliberate. For example, when he chooses to write âonder dakâ as two separate words. âI wouldnât want to defend it to a linguist with a PhD,â he writes. âBut I donât need to, because I avoid such people.â
A.L. Snijdersâ sharp phrases often bring a smile to my face. This was the first book of his I read and I became an instant fan. The columns are barely dated, though they do sometimes paint a lovely picture of the times. Twin Peaks, then brand new and a sensation, is mentioned in passing a few times. For example, when Snijders explains a word to the reader. (âStylistically at secondary school level, but a nod to the RTL4 culture of total ignorance (although, those people can watch Twin Peaks, and I canât).â
Another reassurance when reading columns from over thirty years ago: the world is always on fire, only the flames blaze higher at some times than others. âWhat a wonderful time I live in,â writes Snijders. âIn which true madness (supported by almost everyone) is in power.â History does not repeat itself, but it does rhyme. That, at least, is what Mark Twain wrote.
II.
I finished reading another book (Iâm reading more than ever), namely Murakamiâs epic 1Q84. I enjoyed it; itâs a mystery set in Tokyo about a writer who becomes entangled in the existence of a cult where supernatural things happen. The book is over 1,200 pages long, and it could have been a fair bit shorter if Murakami had written in a tighter, less repetitive style. Thatâs a downside. I know that Murakami doesnât fully work out the story before he starts a book. That fact shines through a little too much in this story. As if he himself sometimes doesnât know where heâs going. (You could trim the fat during a rewriting phase, though Iâm the last person whoâd tell bestselling author Murakami how to write.)
To cut a long story short, Murakami can do that too. The New Yorker published another new short story by him just this week. A sort of modern fairy tale about a woman who is called ugly on a blind date, then goes on another date with the same man and tries to turn this strange experience to her advantage.
III.
Is there still a place for Axel Foley in 2024? Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F raises that question several times. Thirty years after the third instalment in the Beverly Hills Cop series, Eddie Murphy is back as the street cop who tries to win over grumpy police officers with his smooth talk and charm. But the 1980s and 1990s were different times.
Foley is a role tailor-made for Murphy, despite the fact that Sylvester Stallone was originally set to play him. Fortunately, he was replaced at the last minute. Murphy is funny in Beverly Hills Cop, but not as slapstick as in his later comedies. In this film series, he plays an action hero who takes his job seriously, yet still leaves room for a touch of humour. It is his finest role.
It is fair to say that Murphyâs heyday is over. In recent years, heâs been trying to revive old successes. You must avoid the sequel to Coming to America at all costs. And although Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F isnât a high-flyer, this reunion works out a lot better.
Murphy seems to be enjoying himself again and Foleyâs coat still fits him like a glove. Axel F feels like an eighties film, with several familiar faces returning and, of course, little nods to the earlier instalments. Itâs nothing new, but thatâs precisely why itâs so enjoyable. Why shouldnât there be room for Axel Foley anymore? With a big smile and a daft story, he gets away with it once again in this film.
---PS.
De Volkskrant has sacked columnist Eva Hoeke. I often used to read her warm, everyday pieces in Volkskrant Magazine first, followed by Thomas van Luynâs column and then perhaps an interview. Hoeke has been given a vague explanation for her dismissal, wrapped up in an empty concept: renewal. Sheâs taking it in her stride. How often in life do you get the chance to completely change course?
For years, Japan has been working to banish all floppy disks from its outdated government systems and replace them with something new. It has finally succeeded. âWe won the war against floppy disks on 28 June,â says Minister for Digital Affairs Taro Kono to Reuters news agency. Incidentally, Kono is also opposed to fax machines and other analogue technology within the government.
In 33 minutes, Drew Gooden neatly summarises how artificial intelligence is destroying the internet.
---This remains a great track by MGMT. Now accompanied by a bizarre, psychedelic video. (And speaking of psychedelic music, The Flaming Lips are coming to Tivoli next year. Theyâll be playing their album Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots in its entirety (tickets are still available).
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