CZECHMATE. Pete Kerr, the Haddington-based author, tells me he couldn't stifle a guffaw (a wisp of a smile, actually) on receiving a copy of the Czech edition of his debut book about growing oranges in Mallorca, Snowball Oranges.
"We had snow-dusted oranges on the jacket but my Czech publishers opted for obese naked mermaids and startled seahorses and inside they refer to A Basetfuk (sic) of Snowflakes.
"Snowball Oranges was published in ten other countries and nothing was
lost, or was so humorous, in the translation. I'm not complaining, mind."
Snowball Oranges was travel book of the year in the States in 2002. Kerr is busy researching seahorses and well-endowed mermaids for his next novel.
Prophet and loss
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Isn't integration supposed to be the name of the game? The races in Edinburgh are supposed to mix, not gang up in their own enclaves.
But here we have the City Council rubber-stamping a housing development in Leith's Halmyre Street specifically to accommodate 50 Polish migrant workers. The 16 flats are being marketed in Poland. Come to beautiful downtown Edinburgh, where a three-bedroom pad awaits you!
We're on dodgy territory here. Tiny step to creating a mini Warsaw Ghetto down there? An Edinburgh where, in time, people are fragmenting the citizenry . . . the so-and-sos live in Marchmont, the such-and-such live in Wester Hailes, the so-and-sos in Newington.
You can titter. But didn't they once think somebody called Powell, an immigration problems prophet, was well out of order? By the way, over 20,000 are on the housing list in this city.
Afterwords . . . . . from Keith Richards, now getting a lot of satisfaction: "I've had times when I've been looking death right in the eye. And I mean right in the eye, baby. I've even had times where I've heard I was dead. But there's always been something in me that knows I'm gonna be fine. The band's gonna be fine. The music's gonna get better and better.
"I've definitely had dark times, a lot of twisted times. But I don't think I've had really unhappy times because . . . well hell, I'm a Rolling Stone."
The full article contains 369 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
