Author Archives: Fenek Solère

Fenek Solère

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Apocalypse Now, Part 1

Migrant protest in Budapest, September 2015.

1,648 words

Part 1 of 3

I had wanted to write a lengthy preface to explain my position and show that this is no wild-eyed dream; that even if my specific action, symbolic as it is, may seem far-fetched, the fact remains that we are inevitably heading for something of the sort. Read more …

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On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain, Part 3

Jeremy Corbyn

1,207 words

Part 3 of 3

God save the Queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
A potential H bomb

God save the Queen
She’s not a human being
and There’s no future
in England’s dreaming

— The Sex Pistols

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On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain, Part 2

1,961 words

Part 2 of 3 (Part 1 here)

“I pondered all these things, and how men fight and lose the battle, and the thing that they fought for comes about in spite of their defeat, and when it comes turns out not to be what they meant, and other men have to fight for what they meant under another name.”

— William Morris, A Dream of John Ball, about the very first English Peasants’ Revolt against an alien elite

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On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain, Part 1

923 words

Part 1 of 3 (Part 2 here)

(The title comes from De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae, a work written by the monk Gildas the Wise in the sixth century AD.)

While bumptious Boris leads a Tory bounce in the polls, Little Englander Brexiteers seem to have finally had their way, and the civic nationalists wear their molded-plastic Union Jack hats and wave their paper-thin flags with pride. Read more …

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Of Arpeggios & Architecture

Venice Inflatable Refugee, an “art project” that was on display in Venice in 2016

2,096 words

I loved her from my boyhood – she to me
Was as a fairy city of the heart
Rising like water-columns from the sea.
— Lord Byron

The cupola of St. Mark’s basilica glows against the midnight-blue sky as I follow in Monet’s wake, sailing on a bobbing gondola that is being showered by flickering light, reflecting outward across the windless lagoon through medieval arched windows. Read more …

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Hijacking Icons

Dylan Thomas

1,435 words

Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.

— From Dylan Thomas, “In My Craft and Sullen Art”

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Dark Money

Ed Miliband, then leader of Britain’s Labour Party, addressing the Labour Friends of Israel in 2014.

3,877 words

Money, it’s a hit
Don’t give me that do goody good bullshit

— Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon (1973)

It was not without a deep sense of irony that I recently came across Guardian columnist George Monbiot’s revealing article entitled “Dark money lurks at the heart of our political crisis,” a piece of investigative journalism that claims to provide an insight into the machinations of those who use cash to influence political outcomes. Read more …

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Danse Macabre

Crystal Pite

2,140 words

I think it was the overly pious tone of her voice that first made my stomach churn: the sickly sentimentality of the pretentious do-gooder, quickly followed by the first sight of Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite’s pallid face, saying things like, “This creation is my way of coping with the world at the moment,” which immediately sent me rushing to the toilet as if I had food poisoning.

Pite continued, “And I can’t not talk about it. Read more …

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Afro-Saxon Britain: All is True

1,941 words

“To bait fish withal. If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies – and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Read more …

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James Kent’s The Aftermath:
Tragedy in the Ruins of Post-War Germany

2,446 words

“Then the Lord rained brimstone and fire on Sodom and Gomorrah, from the Lord out of the heavens.” — Genesis 19:24

Despite the fact that reviews of Rhidian Brook’s semi-biographical familial novel The Aftermath (2013) offered the tentative possibility of a balanced insight into one of the most apocalyptic and wholly unnecessary acts of brutality in the whole of the Second World War, I, being the cynic I am, still expected nothing more from the book’s screen adaption than the usual Hollywood-style travesty: Read more …

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Salvador Dalí:
Monarchist, Maniac, & Mage, Part III

2,833 words

Part I here, Part II here

The Moons of Gall

“Solange de Cleda re-establishes true normal passion: a profane Saint Theresa; Epicurus and Plato burning in a single flame of eternal feminine mystique.”
–Salavador Dalí, Foreword to Hidden Faces (1944)

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Salvador Dalí:
Monarchist, Maniac, & Mage, Part II

Salvador Dalí meeting with Francisco Franco in 1972.

2,238 words

Part I here, Part III here

Chimeras

I believe, above all, in the real and unfathomable force of the philosophic Catholicism of France and in the militant Catholicism of Spain.
–Salvador Dalí

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Salvador Dalí:
Monarchist, Maniac, & Mage, Part I

2,627 words

Part II here

The Illuminated Plain

Democratic governments are not suited to the publication of the thunderous revelations I am in the habit of making. The unpublished parts will appear later . . . when Europe will have restored its traditional monarchies.
–Salvador Dalí, Diary of a Genius (1964)

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Kate Bush, the Faerie Queene

2,285 words

In springing flowre the image of thy day;
Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee
Doth first peepe forth with bashfull modestee

— Edmund Spenser (1552-1599)

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Ich Dien — I Serve

The tomb of Edward, The Black Prince of Wales

2,042 words

In an age of skyscrapers and digital highways, it is rather cathartic to pass through the seventeenth-century oak doors of the Christ Church Gate and walk into Canterbury Cathedral’s cobbled precincts. Looking up, I see blackbirds flocking overhead, feathers fluttering on the perpendicular tracery of the octagonal towers bearing the Tudor Court of Arms and the Welsh Dragon. My eyes are captivated by the motifs in memory of Arthur, Henry VII’s first-born and heir apparent, who died in Ludlow just short of his sixteenth birthday, fatefully allowing his younger brother to rule in his stead. Read more …

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Insula Albionum

2,008 words

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
Read more …

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Dancing in the Dark:
Bruce Springsteen & the Betrayal of Blue-Collar America

2,352 words

Lights out tonight
Trouble in the heartland . . .

–“Badlands” (1978)

I was sold on Springsteen the moment I first heard the mournful wail of his harmonica as he began to sing “The River”:

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Musica Deo Sacra

Salisbury Cathedral, Dark into Light

1,656 words

Evensong drifted in wisps of blue incense down the shadow-columned nave as I cast my eye over the gold Garter Banner fluttering overhead. My attention was drawn to the apsidal chancel and fourteenth-century vaults, with their red and turquoise fronds that stare benignly down on the heads of the Schola Cantorum choristers, their angelic voices echoing off the chambered underbelly of the Romanesque cross tower. A mass of mesmeric candles flickered over the polished, bone-like surface of the reliquaries in the chantry chapels of the DeSpensers, Beauchamps, and de Clares.

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Arisches Kind

1,463 words

The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month had passed, and Elsa Bauer could not sleep while the wind howled about the hilltop farm, running cold, malevolent fingers down her big stone chimney, the old beech’s branches rustling against the slate and glass like a cacophony from a demonic symphony. Read more …

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The Angel of Mons

609 words

Avner rustled the Evening News, pursing fat lips to speak. “I say Machen’s got a damn fine piece about ghostly bowmen saving the boys at Mons in the paper!” Then, folding the page, he proffered, “Given the Boche a right bloody nose!” Read more …

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Wobomagonda: The White Devil

“Major Robert Rogers & an Indian Chief,” from Fort Ticonderoga: A Short History by S. H. P. Pell.

6,042 words

“Their captain was Robert Rogers, of New Hampshire, – a strong, well-knit figure, in dress and appearance more woodsman than soldier . . . He was ambitious and violent, yet able in more ways than one, by no means uneducated, and so skilled in woodcraft, so energetic and resolute, that his services were invaluable.”

 –Francis Parkman, Montcalm and Wolfe (1885) Read more …

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Irreconcilable Differences:
The Two Versions of Black Robe

6,373 words

To Father Paul Laforgue, the Algonkian Indians are savage pagans in dire need of salvation

To the Algonkian Indians, Catholic priests are greedy, selfish, Norman pigs of sorcerers

–An excerpt from the back cover of the 1987 Paladin edition of Black Robe Read more …

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Festival of the Celts

1,944 words

We are the last people on earth, and the last to be free: our very remoteness in a land known only to rumour has protected us up till this day. Today the furthest bounds of Britain lie open – and everything unknown is given an inflated worth. But now there is no people beyond us, nothing but tides and rocks . . . Read more …

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The Englishness of Nick Drake

3,550 words

‘I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
But now you’re here
Brighten my northern sky’

Read more …

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High Voltage Heptarchy, Part 3
Ethereal & Eternal

6,029 words

Part 3 of 3. Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

‘Now We Rise and We Are Everywhere’ — Nick Drake (1948-1974)

And having now evoked the legend of King Arthur, Merlin, Excalibur, and the Holy Grail, I can clearly recall driving one autumn morning down the A39 as it snaked its way through the Mendip hills. The Somerset Levels cloaked in thick fog with just the Tor floating above the ancient town of Glastonbury. Read more …

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High Voltage Heptarchy, Part 2
Solstice & Song

6,052 words

“There’s a feeling I get when I look to the West.”–“Stairway to Heaven,” Led Zeppelin IV

It was with the advent of Frenchman Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Emile (1762) that a direct link was first made between national culture and the simplicity of peasant life. Read more …

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High Voltage Heptarchy:
Nobility & Neo-Feudalism in the Troubadour Traditions of British & German Folk Rock

4,307 words

Part, the first — Roots & Rituals

Time will pass away
Time will guard our secret
I’ll return again
To fight another day
I’d have to be a warrior
A slave I couldn’t be
A soldier and a conqueror
Fighting to be free

—Warrior, Wishbone Ash, 1972 Read more …

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Close Encounters of the Third Rome Kind:
An Interview with the Author of Rising

2,012 words

Moscow and Peter’s grad, the city of Constantine,
these are the capitals of the Russian kingdom.
But where is their limit? And where are their frontiers
to the north, the east, the south and the setting sun?
The Fate will reveal this to future generations.
Seven inland seas and seven great rivers
from Nile to Neva, from Elbe to China,
from Volga to the Euphrates, from Ganges to Danube.
That’s the Russian kingdom, and let it be forever,  Read more …

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Now in Kindle!
Fenek Solère’s Rising

227 words

Fenek Solère
Rising
San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2017
178 pages

Hardcover: $30 [wp_eStore:product_id:241:end]

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Russian Ark

Bolshoi Zlatoust Church in Yekaterinburg

876 words

I walked amid thousands of pilgrims carrying icons and clutching crosses close to their breasts in the shadow of the bell tower of the Bolshoi Zlatoust church. The magnificent Russo-Byzantine edifice, now bathed in silver starlight, having been so faithfully reconstructed in 2010 after the communists had blasted Saint Maximian’s holy place with dynamite some eighty years before to make way for a statue to their new gods, Lenin and Stalin.

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