oxford recollections…

Moira and I have just returned from a few days in Oxford, enjoying re-visiting some old haunts from our student days. As you might imagine, the trip brought back lots of memories for both of us…
For me, arriving in the city in September 1967 to begin my studies at Oxford School of Architecture… coming from Handsworth in Birmingham, Oxford was a huge contrast (understatement).
Looking back, I realise just how lucky I was to have been able study away from home and, obviously, in such a beautiful city like Oxford. Exploring new places from scratch, meeting new people, facing new challenges… such as coping financially, dealing with problems, accommodation, food… and, of course, making one’s own mistakes (and sorting them out!).
I feel sorry for those in higher education who don’t have the opportunity to live away from home for a while.
Oxford is clearly a very beautiful, small city – dominated by its University Colleges – but also one in which ‘privilege’ has prevailed (and, perhaps one would say, continues to prevail). Fortunately, I had very little to do with the university… apart from watching cricket in University Parks; attending a May Ball at Exeter College; being present at a number of outdoor theatrical performances in various College grounds; standing along the riverbank watching Eights Week activities; and I vaguely remember attending some disco or other at Queens College.
I got to know my way around Oxford quite quickly – thanks to fellow first year students Steve, Age and JohnTrem (who became lifelong friends). We decided to meet up for a cheap omelette lunch (at an upper floor café on the High Street) every Saturday during the first term before exploring various colleges and their grounds. By our first Christmas in Oxford, we knew the city pretty well.
From the start, I absolutely loved the Cherwell and Thames rivers running through the city… Christchurch Meadow was (and still is) a real favourite place; University Parks; Port Meadow; Shotover Hill; Boars Hill; Osney; Jericho; Botanical Gardens; Magdalen Bridge; Iffley; the ‘Turf’, ‘Trout’ and ‘Perch’ pubs.… so many places.
The punting in the summer (I got to become quite a good punter!)… from Magdalen Bridge or the Cherwell Boathouse up to the Vicky Arms.
You could buy half a pint of mild at the White Hart in Old Headington for 6 pence halfpenny (that’s 6.5d OLD money!) and we regularly used to go drinking at the Turf on a Friday night… and each drink 8 pints @ 2s 6d a pint (spending £ONE POUND in the process!)!
There were few ‘Rag Weeks’ during my time at college… one of which included a 24 hour café and an attempt to ‘Drink the Turf Dry’ (which I endeavoured to do single-handed as I recall… and ending up slumped in a fireplace at the 24 hour café having completely failed to do so).
May Morning was a rather special time… huge crowds gathering below Magdalen Tower at 6am while the choir sang. Crowded streets, Morris Dancers, people jumping off bridges… people queuing for breakfasts (and beer!). Mom and Dad joined Moira and me on one occasion and were absolutely mesmerised by it all (in a good way!).
There was also St Giles Fair… taking over St Giles every Autumn.
Of course, crucially, Oxford was also the place where Moira and I first met (31 October 1969!)… she was studying languages at the Poly.
Sunday afternoon walks with Steve, Bev, Age, Jane, Ted and Val became part of a regular routine… and always finished off with our homemade “Mrs Blenkins’ scones”.
Later, when I worked for The Oxford Architects Partnership (35 Queen Street, 1972-76), the office had a cricket team (of sorts) and we were hugely fortunate to be able to play on various College pitches (after the end of the summer term)… Worcester, New College, University/Corpus Christi.
Moira and I married in 1972 and continued to live Oxford until 1982. We rented places in Oakthorpe Road and Osberton Road, Summertown before buying our first home in Percy Street, off the Iffley Road… and, of course, our three daughters (Ruth, Hannah and Alice) were all born in Oxford.
So, Oxford: a very special place!

june-july 2023 books…

The Company Of Heaven (Catherine Fox): This is the fifth Catherine Fox book I’ve read over the past eight years or so. As with the previous books, it’s based in the fictional diocese of Lindchester and, once again, follows some of its beloved characters. It was originally written in real time (more or less) in the form of a weekly blog and continues (from the writer’s previous book) on Easter Monday 2021 – just as the pandemic’s third lockdown draws to a close. Fox is a wonderful writer and she manages to convey the uncertainties of the incredibly challenging times with heart, humour and insight… as well as providing us with a compelling, powerful reminder of what we all went through (with some pertinent political ‘digs’ and observations). At times (as with her previous Lindchester books), it almost felt as if we were following the characters from BBC radio’s ‘The Archers’ (except that I haven’t actually tuned in for more than 30 years, so how would I know?!). Frankly, such thoughts would have put me off from reading Fox’s books… but, ridiculously perhaps, she does have the ability to make you want to know more about the story’s characters as well as leaving you with a sense of hope and a reminder of the goodness of people, even in the darkest times. Another enjoyable read.
The Clocks (Agatha Christie): More ‘comfort reading’ (from our huge pile of Christie books)! This one first published in 1963. For the first 100 pages or so, I was utterly intrigued by this ‘mystery novel’… a blind woman; an unidentified dead man found in her house; four strange clocks all showing the same time left in the house; a woman from a typing agency specifically asked to meet at the house – only to find the body. As ever with a Christie novel, it’s a clever, intricate plot but, for me, the storyline became a little too far-fetched (and with some unnecessary romantic tangents) with eventual revelations about A being linked to B… who was subsequently found to be associated with C etc etc (and, of course, with various red-herrings along the way). Clever, but not altogether 100% convincing in my view (by 1963, she was 73… so might have been losing her touch?!) but, hey, another enjoyable read nevertheless.
Take Two At Bedtime (Margery Allingham): I think I’ve previously read three Allingham books and, while I’ve enjoyed her writing style, I have to say that I found her ‘Albert Campion’ character a little ‘wearing’! This book (first published in 1950, but originally published in US magazines in the 1940s) does NOT feature Campion(!) and takes the form of two novellas/short(ish) stories: ‘Wanted’: Someone Innocent’ and ‘Last Act’… and, I have to say, I really enjoyed them. Two stories of tension and suspense. One concerns a young woman hired as ‘a sort of social secretary’, but who has no idea of the atmosphere of evil that goes with the job. The other relates the last act in the career of an old French actress, who names her murderer before the final curtain. Unfortunately, both stories included romance at the heart of the mysteries – but, hey!
Lessons In Chemistry (Bonnie Garmus): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (theme: debut books). The story starts in the early 1950s, in the world of the Hastings Research Institute, Southern California – where we follow the relationship of a brilliant, prize-winning scientist (despite his grudge-holding grumpiness) and a very determined research scientist (who found it almost impossible for people to take her seriously – because of her sex). In the words of the novel’s opening chapter: “Back in 1961, when women wore shirtwaist dresses and joined garden clubs and drove legions of children around in seatbeltless cars without giving it a second thought…”. Chemist Elizabeth Zott’s all male team at the Institute take a very unscientific view of equality. Ridiculously, she is forced to resign and, very reluctantly (without any experience of such things), she signs on as a host of a 6pm television cooking show… and “so a legion of overlooked housewives find themselves daring to change the status quo” (according to the book’s cover). I really enjoyed this book (despite its too-good-to-be-true positivity). It’s funny, very readable and ridiculously joyful (it WILL lift your spirits!)… and I loved the characters – especially the dog (named ‘Six-Thirty’!).
Seven Dead (J Jefferson Farjeon): I bought this book (first published in 1939) while we were away in Oxford – having finished the one book I’d taken with me. The story tells of an amateur thief who discovers seven dead bodies in the house he’s chosen to rob. A detective inspector takes on the case with the help of a passing yachtsman (as you do!). The search for the absent owners takes the yachtsman across the Channel to Boulogne, where he finds “more than one motive to stay and investigate” (in the words of the book’s flysheet… note: there’s an attractive woman involved!). I’d previously read one of Farjeon’s books and enjoyed it – but that’s more than I can say for this one! I found the characters here one laughably wooden; the dialogue utterly appalling (it seems that all thieves and police constables are basically ‘thick’, while the inspectors and yachtsmen are frightfully well-educated and middle-class); and the plot implausibly concocted for my liking. Clearly, it’s a book of its time and is very ‘dated’ accordingly – but I really did think it was pretty awful. 

'as you like it' at the RSC and my ageing brother…

It’s my lovely brother’s 70^th birthday next month and so, as one of the activities for his ‘Birthday Festival’, we went to the RSC at Stratford to see Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It’ (directed by Omar Elerian).
Somewhat fittingly (I’ll pretend it was all part of my cunning plan), the current production featured actors who were 70+ years (as well as four young, talented actors at the beginning of their careers) and focussed on age and the ageing process in general… and with lots of humour. Rediscovering the themes of freedom and love from the perspective of older age.
 
This was a somewhat different version of the play: Set in a rehearsal room, the cast are presented as gathering to remember a production they created when young (back in 1978). Reflecting on the memories – both happy and sad – and the wonder of it all. There’s something rather wonderful about acknowledged performers in the ‘later stages’ of their careers being able to demonstrate their undoubted skills and experience while enjoying the camaraderie of the past, while performing roles written for actors 50 years their juniors! It’s all played out with lots of humour – the ‘fight scenes’, for example, being little more than awkward grappling as opponents readily acknowledged that they ‘couldn’t do it anymore’!
The quality of the acting was predictably high and, in particular, I was really impressed with the performances of Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando) – and I thought GJ was looking rather wonderful for a 72 year-old! – capturing the innocent of excitement of first love.
The play is also about memories – both happy and sad – the people we love; the things we recall; the things we’ve forgotten; the places we’ve seen; the things we might have done; the things we have achieved; the wonder of it all… and, of course, the things still to come.
But, what about the Forest of Arden? The audience is left with imagining the forest until the very end, when the forest was revealed in all its glory. The only disappointment for me about this dramatic scene was that the cast spoke their words from the very back of the stage AND with their backs to the audience – which made audibility less than ideal (I’m sure I wasn’t the only audience member to think this). Fortunately, this was followed by Rosalind’s rather beautiful adapted epilogue (performed facing the audience!) endorsing love at all ages.
But, as ever for me, what I REALLY love about theatre is the ‘live performance’ of it all… what you’re seeing is a one-off… the excitement, the uncertainty, the promise and the drama of it all.
I REALLY enjoyed this production… an absolute treat.
Photo (copyright RSC): Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando).