Henning Mankell

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I came to Africa with one purpose: I wanted to see the world outside the perspective of European egocentricity. I could have chosen Asia or South America. I ended up in Africa because the plane ticket there was cheapest.

I came and I stayed. For nearly 25 years I’ve lived off and on in Mozambique. Time has passed, and I’m no longer young; in fact, I’m approaching old age. But my motive for living this straddled existence, with one foot in African sand and the other in European snow, in the melancholy region of Norrland in Sweden where I grew up, has to do with wanting to see clearly, to understand.…  Seguir leyendo »

What surprises me most after the Swedish elections is that so many people seem surprised the ultraconservative Sweden Democrats party (SD) has made it into parliament. From no representation it now has nearly 6% of the vote, which means that it will get 20 MPs; it also destroys the previous centre-right majority and creates an uncertain situation in parliament. Sweden will get a weak government, one that must rest on different minorities, since all the parties have spent most of the post-election debate guaranteeing that they won't in any way co-operate with the SD.

This went so far on election night that the leader of the Left party, Lars Ohly, refused to have his makeup done at the same time as Jimmie Åkesson, the SD leader.…  Seguir leyendo »

Para aquéllos que vivíamos cerca de él, el fallecimiento de Ingmar Bergman la semana pasada no ha constituido una gran sorpresa. Acababa de cumplir 89 años; era un hombre muy mayor. Su corazón cansado dejó de latir a primera hora de la mañana del 30 de julio, en esta temporada de verano tan lluviosa, en su casa de la isla sueca de Farö. Los conejos que se apostaban impávidos en la playa y escuchaban sus interpretaciones de Mahler se preguntarán ahora dónde se ha ido ese anciano. El caso es que ha desaparecido. El reloj de arena se ha quedado vacío.…  Seguir leyendo »

For those who lived close to him, Ingmar Bergman's passing last week was no great surprise. He had just turned 89; he was a very old man. His tired heart stopped beating in the early hours of the morning, in this rainy summer season, at his home on the Swedish island of Faro. The rabbits that used to sit motionless on the beach and listen to him playing Mahler will now wonder where the old man has gone. But he is gone. The hourglass has run empty.

Ingmar found the meaning of life in creativity. If he did have a God, then that was it: the creative force that gave purpose to an otherwise highly troubled life.…  Seguir leyendo »