You Are What You Are

You know all that guff about what it is to be English or British. "To be English is to get blind drunk and hurl abuse at foreigners." That sort of thing. You must have come across it. You may even have read the books. Paxo and the rest. There was even Gordy Brown and his Britishness kick a few years ago. Don't know what happened to all that, though he'd now have to add claiming expenses for buying a box of Hobnobs or building a moat around an Englishman's castle that is his home (and note that it is an Englishman's home and not a Scotsman's or a Welshman's, as they presumably don't have castles in Scotland or Wales). He would also have to add being the country with the most surveillance anywhere in Europe and having a financial sector that has led the rest of Europe to describe all Brits as a "complete bunch of bankers". John Major once lent his considerable insight into Englishness - old maids on bikes drinking warm beer, or something like that, and prime ministers with oversized blue underpants. I wonder what Gordon wears. No, sorry, actually I don't wonder. It's a deeply disturbing image, and I'll stop it.

Wherever one turns, though, there is now a country, an island, a province, a town or city conducting a highly anal and collective exercise of navel-gazing (which is quite a feat of anatomy). "What's it like to be ...? (Add as applicable.) What's it like to be an Alsatian (if you come from Alsace)? What's it like to be a Maltese? And no, the answer does not include being round and having a honeycomb centre or being made to be cross. What's it like to be from Leicester? Pass.

Into this rich vein of social self-research now wade the Mallorcans who I should really refer to as Mallorquíns because that is what they are, and don't they just let you know it, because getting the language spot-on is as important to the inhabitants of Mallorca as practising a perfect cover drive is to an Englishman. "The Diario", bless it, had this thing at the weekend that was entitled "¿Qué es ser mallorquín?", which will probably have brought forth a considerable amount of nationalist opprobrium because it was in Spanish. It's all about the language, you see. That, and the culture, the beautiful land, the fiestas ... . God knows, it could have been the tourist board offering the answers, or some drippy brochure. Given that Messrs Brown and Major have had recourse to pronounce on matters British or English, Balearics president, Francesc Antich, should be given prominence for his views on being Mallorquín, or rather what Mallorca is: "A land that has its own distinctiveness in terms of language, culture, traditions and marvellous natural resources." Fantastic. He's been reading the tourist board's website as well. Nothing about political corruption, greedy landlords and unreliable opening hours.

Does it matter, though, if you were not born in Mallorca? Can you be Mallorquín, having come from West Bromwich, let's say? Well, it would appear that you can be, as several respondents to the "Diario" question reckon so. On noting this, I turned, as has been the case previously, to the book "Beloved Majorcans". In its opening pages are some quotes, one of which says: "One doesn't belong to a place for having been born there; one belongs to the place that captivated your gaze." The article in "The Diario" mentions the opinion that many foreigners can appear to be more Mallorquín than the Mallorquíns, which may come as a bit of a surprise to those gathering in a Brit bar for a game of bingo. But then of course, the Mallorquíns play bingo as well. Nevertheless, there may be some truth to this opinion, but only because some foreigners in a foreign land take a more active interest in seeking to understand and embrace where they live because they don't know it intimately and, more importantly, don't just take it for granted. And that is the crux of all these debates about what's it like to be. It just is, because that's where you grew up. Unless you are an academic, are wanting to sell a book or are John Major, you don't, as a rule, go around the local Tesco's thinking about the meaning of Englishness. You just are, unless you are not. And so it is with the Mallorquíns. When they're shouting their heads off in a bar or in the street, they may be offering - at high volume - a clear indication that they are Mallorquín, but do they stop and think why? They shout, because that's what they do, and with an impenetrable accent that sounds like a cat being strangled whilst simultaneously eating the entire annual potato crop of Sa Pobla.

Nevertheless, if you are going to have this debate, then something a bit more incisive than the language and the culture is demanded, as language and culture are the two intermingled essentials for any notion of what's it like to be. But let's finish this piece with the words of Gertrude Stein, again from "Beloved Majorcans". In response to a question from Robert Graves as to whether Mallorca was a good place to "settle down", she said: "Yes, it's paradise, if you can stand it."


John Hirst - a further footnote
Setting up a dodgy Ponzi scheme is not indicative of having become Mallorquín, despite what some might say about a certain trait of alleged dishonesty that some Mallorquíns are prone to. But this is what Mr. Hirst seemingly did. He is now co-operating with the SFO who will be keen to know where the moolah is. Some ideas about this have been floating around. It may be that the combined journalistic forces of "The Sunday Times" and "The Sunday Telegraph" (especially the latter) know. The story is unfolding slowly. The Allied Dunbar connection was known last week but was only confirmed by the Sunday press at the weekend, which does emphasise the fact that when it comes to serious stuff like the Hirst case, it is probably best left to journalists with the resources and muscle of the Sundays to do the digging to really verify claims. Much though I was tempted to have used the stuff I was being sent last week, I couldn't be sure. But now I am, because the Sundays say so. If you missed it, here is the Telegraph's story:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/spain/6622169/Majorca-based-British-financier-investigated-by-SFO-convicted-of-offence-in-1990s.html


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Push pineapple, shake a tree, push pineapple, grind coffee. Fabulous. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POv-3yIPSWc. Today's title - also and better known by its one word title that; number one all over the place.

(PLEASE REPLY TO andrew@thealcudiaguide.com AND NOT VIA THE COMMENTS THINGY HERE.)