Happy new year! Although it’s unrealistic to expect a full twelve months of happiness, nevertheless this greeting is universal – implicitly acknowledging that optimism is a more attractive trait than pessimism. After all, it would be cynical to toast another year of ‘getting by’, even though that will be the inevitable fate of some of us. As for those who have been dealt the most certain of losing hands, even they might want a positive greeting, just to lift their spirits. At the very least, it’s polite to say to each other that we are hopeful everything will be satisfactory, while omitting the part about it being unlikely.
Each new
year begins in the depths of winter, when bright horizons, both actual and
metaphorical, are easily obscured. For instance, during this week’s cold snap,
two of our three storage heaters ceased to function, leading to some invective-laden
questioning of their value and purpose. But let’s skip that and move on to the
positives: there’s always joy to be found somewhere.
It was one
of those clear, sunny mornings after the overnight temperature had dropped
below freezing. We went for a walk on the edge of Dartmoor and down into the
valley of the river Tavy, where hoar frost decorated every leaf and twig with a
delicacy and brilliance that made even the finest Christmas tinsels and strings
of coloured lights look like the work of a ham-fisted amateur. It was cold,
especially down in the wooded valley, but even here there was extraordinary
beauty to behold in the mosses and lichens that smothered the sun-deprived trees
and rocks. Muddy paths, turned solid by frost, crunched under our boots and warmth
soon suffused our fingers and toes as we picked up the pace. Winter days like
these are as enjoyable as the finest of any season.
And at home,
there are wintry culinary delights to be savoured. Wednesday’s supper of
roasted parsnips and kale pesto, a newly discovered recipe, went down a treat
with a glass or two of Douro. Dishes like this, savoured in the comfort of a
cosy room are a satisfying antidote to cold, rainy evenings. And after clearing
up, what better than to catch up on tv box sets. This week, having come to the
end of all five seasons of My Brilliant Friend, we have begun to search
around for the next addictive drama series.
So, on the
domestic front at least (and storage heaters notwithstanding), the year has
started well. However, domestic order is an apple cart easily upset by external
events and I can’t help but take into account the geopolitical situation which,
in all its interconnected complexity, seems to hold no promise of a happy new
year for anyone but a handful of oligarchs, kleptocrats, gangsters,
billionaires and their respective hangers-on, whose manoeuvrings have brought
them into positions of such power that even those governments with the strongest
and most valid democratic credentials are now in danger of falling over and
leaving the field open to fascism. This view, morbid as it is, seems valid the
more I look into it.
When I
visited the library last month, I took out a book by Jonathan Aldred, Licence
to be Bad: How Economics Corrupted Us and, having just received a reminder
of its imminent due date, I picked it up and began reading in earnest. The
message is bleak: a few influential economists have, over the last forty years,
shaped our lives by steering western political policies towards maximisation of
profit and, consequentially, away from societal cohesion. For this achievement,
they were awarded Nobel prizes.
So, when I wish
someone a “happy new year”, there is an implicit qualification: I wish them
well in the face of the odds stacked against them – and all the rest of us.
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