Fado

Philip Brebner

Description

Fado, a word meaning fate or destiny, refers to a type of music that embodies the Portuguese spirit of yearning.Told by a mysterious narrator, Fado is a novelette that spans one year, a year marked by religious and pagan festivals, political holidays and the seasons. At the heart of the tale are two characters, Maria Salvador, a Fado singer from Lisbon, and from Porto, Joaquim Oliveira, a veteran of the Colonial War in Mozambique, who suffers from PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. Drawn together by the Douro valley and an English port wine shipper, their separate stories are a haunting song, the two tales resembling the counterpoint of the two guitars that accompany the singer. It is a song of Portugal, of love and war, rich and poor, superstition and religion, of exile and emigration, of death and injustice, and of course, fate. It is a story that weaves into a tragic climax as the narrator tries to solve the puzzle: why did Maria Salvador stop singing?

Informations

• Publié par: eBook Versions
• Date de parution: 29 mai 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781843962120
• Langue: English

Extrait

Published by
Thames Street Press

Copyright © 2014 Philip Brebner

Author s website
www.philipbrebnerbooks.com

Philip Brebner has asserted his
right under the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988 to be identified
as the author of this work.

ISBN-13 978-1-84396-212-0

A CIP catalogue record for
this ebook edition is available
from the British Library.

Cover design by Andy Fielding
www.andyfielding.co.uk

ePub ebook production
www.ebookversions.com

All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in or
introduced into a retrieval system
or transmitted in any form
or by any means electronic,
photomechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise without
the prior written permission
of the publisher. Any person who
does any unauthorised act in
relation to this publication may be
liable to criminal prosecution.
FADO


Philip Brebner






THAMES STREET PRESS
Contents


Cover

Copyright Credits

Dedication

Title Page

FADO


Also by Philip Brebner
To Paul

Port Wine Friends
6.12.2013
FADO


ALL this is years ago now. Despite entreaties from presidents, politicians and the public, Maria Salvador stopped singing. Even kings, princes and football stars appealed to her. Many tried to solve the mystery. There were rumours about her voice, and of course, her involvement with the tragedy. She never spoke about the subject, but as I discovered, the reasons cut deeper than that.
Every New Year she visited Nelson Reis, a Brazilian fortune-teller much in demand, especially with government ministers. At first he refused to see me, but after a phone call in my support, relented.
He had an apartment in the Lapa district of Lisbon, in a former nobleman s palace, painted in saffron distemper. As I entered the foyer and climbed the stone stairs, I passed scenes of Africa depicted in blue and white azulejo tiles. They pictured the time Lisbon stood as capital of a colonial empire: a fleet of tall ships moored in front of a trading station, slaves in a cotton plantation, tusks being sawed from a fallen elephant, and missionary priests amongst the huts of a native village. From what I learnt later, this alone appeared a portent.
Nelson Reis had something of the Amazon about him and the sweetness of tobacco haunted his skin. Flames raged in the marble fireplace, the light animating the birds and leaves in the ceiling mouldings.
Maria Salvador never returned after the reading, he told me, opening a mother-of-pearl box. Unwrapping a bundle of black silk he revealed the Tarot.
I separated the 22 Major Arcana from the deck. What happens is that the Questioner shuffles the cards, stating aloud a specific question to be answered. That afternoon Maria Salvador asked if her love life would improve in the coming year.
He sorted the pack and spread five of the Tarot on the table. The first card he showed me was The Chariot. A crowned conqueror sat between two pillars. Beneath him was a triumphal chariot drawn by two spirited horses pulling apart. It spelled trouble and adversity. The second card Force depicted Hercules restraining a lion with his bare hands. In contrast to his physical might, a red club on the ground symbolized inner strength and confidence. Nelson Reis revealed hidden forces at work, born out by the third card, The Lovers. A youth clasped the hand of a woman, whilst from a cloud Cupid pointed an arrow of influence. This promised romance, but unseen to the right stood a man, a stranger.
The fourth card, The House of God, corresponded to Mars and the forces of destruction, and showed the true nature of these hidden influences. A man stood on top of the tower, the waters swirling below. Lightening split the heights he had reached, debris tumbled to the ground, and ruin befell him. As the three cards surrounded The Chariot, with the two pillars, two wheels, and two horses, Nelson Reis predicted two stories: one involving the lovers and one the stranger.
Here Nelson Reis hesitated. There was a fifth card, The Devil. I shivered at the naked creature in front of me, the wild eyes, horned ears, claw hands, cloven feet and pointed tail. Gripping a pitchfork, he stood above a remorseful figure.
The stranger again, perhaps caught in some type of enslavement. It suggested human suffering. I feared he was the bearer of Death.
Death was certainly part of the story, or two stories, as Nelson Reis predicted from the Tarot. What happened is common knowledge, but eclipsed the story of the stranger.

NEXT I travelled north to Porto, its granite and tiles a contrast to the limestone and pastel paint of Lisbon, a variance matched by their accents. From Trindade I climbed the Rua de Pedro Teles, its buildings huddled together as if in despair. Near the top, beside a new apartment block, stood a ruined fa ade.
Inside the caf opposite, I commented on this. The caf owner S rgio Ramos willingly recounted what happened. To construct the apartment block, two houses had been razed to the ground. However, their foundations proved solid rock, and the builders detonated dynamite early one Saturday morning. The tenants fled the adjacent dwelling. Joaquim Oliveira stood in the street shaking-he had been a soldier in the colonial wars in Africa and the explosion triggered a panic attack, the racing heart, breathing difficulties and a look of terror . His pregnant wife Luiza, made him sit on the pavement, massaging his shoulders. Dr Garcia, from the apartment beneath them, remonstrated with the foreman. The blast had shattered the window of the caf . A glazier replaced it that afternoon, which was just as well, as the rain began and for most the night came down in torrents.

AS I examined an archive copy of the Jornal de Not cias , which reported the subsequent events, I discovered that this happened the same Saturday Maria Salvador met Robert Keyes at her restaurant in Lisbon.
O Meu Fado is in the Bairro Alto quarter of the capital. Inside the white linen, cutlery and glasses are brightened by candlelight. Autographed photographs of Fado singers decorate the walls, including one from the legendary Am lia Rodriques.
Fado is still sung there, backed by the two guitarists, Ant nio Alves and Vitor Cabral who accompanied Maria Salvador in concerts and recordings. Vitor Cabral played the Spanish guitar, but Ant nio Alves played the Portuguese tear shaped guitar with six double steel strings. From its neck, the strings fanned into the digits of fantastic wings, behind the head of a dragon.