april 2017 books…

The Idiot Brain (Dean Burnett): This is a very entertaining and illuminating book. Its front cover boldly describes it thus: “a neuroscientist explains what your head is really up to”… and that just about sums it up. It endeavours to explain such things as how the memory works, panic attacks, depression, motion sickness, forgetting people’s names, false memories… At times, I felt somewhat numbed by scientific facts, but Burnett has a wonderful knack of being able to explain complicated stuff in a very simple (frequently very funny) way. He also highlights some very bizarre examples, such as: researchers who first looked into the phenomenon of less-intelligent people being more confident were “inspired by reports of a criminal who held up banks after covering his face with lemon juice, because lemon juice can be used as invisible ink, so he thought his face wouldn’t show up on camera”. Precious!  
Wilderness Taunts (Ian Adams): This is the second of my Lent books (written by my brilliant friend Ian Adams). It’s a tough book of daily reflections/meditations – reflecting Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness. Challenging messages and, as the title suggests, taunts… but also there’s light. Maybe these taunts and challenges turn out to be gifts that help us to better understand who we are and whatever is being called of us? Despite its hard questions, I found the book both accessible, relevant and hugely thought-provoking (it also contains Ian’s beautiful, haunting photographs). A really excellent resource that I know I’ll continue to revisit.
London Transport Posters (Michael F Levey): This beautiful book tells the story of London Transport’s championing of poster art from 1909 until 1976 (thanks to the vision of Frank Pick, from the time he joined LT in 1906). I’ve always loved posters and, over the past couple of years, have been taking an increasing in the work of Fred Taylor (1875-1963) – who was born in London and designed posters for London Transport between 1908 and 1947. The book only contains 80 posters, but they’re enough to capture and highlight this particular art form born of our modern industrialised society. I really enjoyed this book… and it has also drawn my attention to several other talented artists, such as: E McKnight Kauffer, William Roberts, Oleg Zinger, FC Herrick and Charles Pears.
The Man In The Wooden Hat (Jane Gardam): Moira had recently read and very much enjoyed this book (it’s part of a trilogy), so I thought I’d give it a ‘go’. On the face of it, it really isn’t ‘my sort of thing’, but I was quite, quite wrong. It’s about a judge, his colonial upbringing and career, his long marriage, his rivalries and friendships… and told, in the main, from his wife’s perspective. It’s an evocative, charming, sometimes difficult, story about love, about people, about secrets… and about growing old. Gardam is a stunningly good writer and this was an exceptionally good book (I can’t wait to read the other two).
Book Of Longing (Leonard Cohen): Cohen has been something of a life-long hero for me. I’ve loved his songs right from the late 1960s. This book (first published in 2006) is a new collection of his poetry and writings – mainly taken from the mid-1980s onwards. For me, there are times when his work seems to have a sense of the ‘emperor’s clothes’ and leaves even me thinking: “I could have written that”, but I very much enjoyed the book. In a way, it tells the story of a life – sometimes playful, sometimes colourful, frequently erotic and occasionally angry. It also, perhaps, contains the arrogance of the idolised. Some of the pieces were subsequently used as song lyrics for the album “Ten New Songs”. One of the surprising joys, for me, was the inclusion of several of Cohen’s own illustrations (often quick, scribbled self-portraits ridiculing his ageing features!). Having finished the book in the early hours (not being able to sleep), I found the following words from his poem “I Am Now Able” wonderfully ironic (as well as not sleeping, I hardly ever use the telephone!): “I am now able/ to sleep twenty hours a day/The remaining four/are spent/telephoning a list/of important people/in order/to say goodnight…”. I’ll continue to dip into this rather lovely book.

february 2016 books

More book stuff:
The Old Ways (Robert Macfarlane): I’m a great fan of Macfarlane (I’ve previously read and greatly enjoyed two of his other books: ‘Mountains of the Mind’ and ‘The Wild Places’). He’s an extremely gifted, intelligent writer who has a captivating, almost poetic, writing style. Essentially, this is a book about what it is to follow a path (on land or at sea). John Banville reckons that ‘Macfarlane reminds us of what it is to be civilised’ and I certainly wouldn’t argue with that. This paragraph, from near the end of the book, gives a “feel”: ‘As I walk, scenes open up in my memory from the paths I have followed, coming fast and clear as lantern slides: the green phosphorescent wake of Jubilee as she trundles north to Sula Sgeir, the white paths of the English chalk country, Manus’s three-stoned cairn-tracks overflown by gannets, the mirror-line of the Broomway. Bodily recollections surface: the rasp of limestone in Palestine, the slim iron needles of the Spanish pine woods, the sandstone dust of the Black Mountains, so soft underfoot. The remembered senses of spaces small and wide: the beehive shieling set in the open moor of Lewis, the cool interior of the qasr near Ramallah, the dark glassy water under a stone arch on the Shiants. And so many people, so many path-followers’. I absolutely LOVED this very special book.
Why I Wake Early (Mary Oliver): I love Oliver’s poetry. She has a natural gift for conveying the wonder of the ordinary (even if perhaps, for me, this book lays a little too much emphasis on the creatures she encounters on her morning walks!). The book’s title is particularly apt for me (early morning creature that I am!) and I can imagine her taking her unhurried, daily morning walks amongst the local pinewoods, ponds and hills. I love the fact that she sees (and celebrates) things that most people might never notice. Looking, seeing, reflecting, celebrating the simple things in life. Another beautiful book.
A Heart So White (Javier Marias): This is our Book Group’s latest book. The original’s written in Spanish and, I must admit, I struggled with the rather stilted style of the translation at first. The book has a somewhat unnerving, haunting quality as it chronicles the unremitting power of the past. There are clearly family secrets, and Juan begins to ponder what he doesn't really want to know. Juan’s job means he has to shuttle between the UN in New York and the Hague for six to eight weeks at a time, while his wife remains behind in Madrid to establish their home together. In Juan's absence she develops a close relationship with her father-in-law, a charismatic art dealer named Ranz who, though in his seventies, has not lost the charm that enabled him to marry three times despite the fact that his first wife died mysteriously and the second committed suicide upon returning from their honeymoon (and he ended up marrying his second wife’s sister!). Juan is dogged by feelings of unease and suspicion. It's a novel about the nature of relationships, truth, deception and much more. Juan's slow narrative style, and his thought process, slowly creep under the one's skin. Beautifully written and cleverly conceived. I’m looking forward to hearing what our other book group members make of it!
Epitaph To ‘Nickle Eck’ (Eric Yates): Coming from Birmingham myself, the sub-title to this book (“Childhood Mischief in Wartime Birmingham”) rather appealed. It tells various tales of two brothers (Eric and John) during WW2 and, on the face of it, might have been quite interesting. Unfortunately, I rather think the author (he worked for Bass Charrington for 20 years – ironically, my brother also worked for them in the early 1970s - and was also a one-time presenter for BBC Radio Birmingham and ‘into’ amateur dramatics) saw himself as God’s gift to story-telling. Sadly, he isn’t. Eric Yates’ wife put the book together after his death and, although he was clearly a ‘character’, I found her descriptions of his talents just a little over-the-top (“About The Author”). Here’s just one example: “he and his wife performed in Salcombe, where he is celebrated in the South Hams for his performance in the famous music hall sketch ‘Dinner for One’” (really?). The book is mildly amusing, but hardly the “treasure trove of Second World War stories” that the cover claims! Sorry!
Night Cycles (Beth Morey): This book is a collection of raw poetry centred on a theme of spiritual death and resurrection (drawn from Morey’s own experience of that desert place Saint John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul”). This all sounds pretty bleak – and, certainly, some of it is – but I actually found her words encouraging and hopeful. She writes with a simple directness and with the ability to articulate emotions and feelings. I’ll certainly be dipping into these poems on a regular basis.

august 2015 books

More book stuff:
Cultural Amnesia (Clive James): Published in 2007, this mammoth book of over 850 pages (which makes bedtime reading a little tricky!) took James 40 years to write. It’s organised from A to Z and contains over 100 essays. It’s been described as “the ultimate guide to the 20^th century” and I wouldn’t argue with that at all. The essays take the form of James’s brief biography/background context of some of the greatest thinkers, humanists, musicians, artists and philosophers of the 20^th century (and before)… from Louis Armstrong to Sigmund Freud via Frank Kafka, Marcel Proust (you get the idea), followed by one of their quotes, followed in turn by James’s own reflections – which frequently refer to such things as when he first bought a copy of a book or saw a performance or a conversation. Over the past 20 years or so, I have continued to be amazed by the massive depth of James’s knowledge… and its diversity (and, yes, I appreciate that James has never been embarrassed to show off his intellect!). Just as an example, I paused at the end of the piece on Georg Cristoph Lichtenburg, 1742-99 (yes, there were MANY people in the book that I’d never heard of!)… in it, James had made references to his first experience of seeing a Lautrec painting… which tumbled into his reflections on Barbirelli’s Berlin concerts at the end of WW2… which in turn developed into what the Greeks made of Helen’s beauty… and on to feminism in the late 20^th century… then the writings of Thomas Mann… and “The Great Gatsby”… and Solzhenitsyn, Sartre, Kingsley Amis… Chekhov etc etc. This chapter alone probably contained references to over 50 books he’d read (and quoted from) or music he “knew” intimately or… I could go on! A couple of other (slightly quirky?) observations of the book: he uses the word “humanist” or “humanism” in at least every other essay and he also frequently tries to encourage to language students – such as “students who want to make a start with Spanish could do worse than to track Vargas Llosa through his essays” (something that James had clearly done in developing his own wide-ranging language skills). James has been a long-time hero of mine… this is a wonderful book (with some minor reservations) – informative, pithy, endearing and frequently amusing.
Sentenced To Life (Clive James): Yes, another Clive James’s book (sorry) – this time a book of poems written between 2011 and 2014, after James had been diagnosed with terminal illness (“leukaemia, emphysema and kidney failure – ‘the lot’”). It’s a really beautiful, poignant, enriching book… of his guilt, his regrets, his illness, his family and life, but also about how his condition has given him time and space to appreciate things that he’d previously hardly noticed or just taken for granted – like rain and nature. Take this example from the poem “Sentenced to Life”:  
Once I would not have noticed; nor have known
The name for Japanese anemones,
So pale, so frail. But now I catch the tone
Of leaves. No birds can touch down in the trees
Without my seeing them. I count the bees.
His poem “Japanese Maple” has rightly, in my view, been highly acclaimed via the internet/social media. James has been quoted as being “embarrassed at having lived with his death so long” (he certainly hadn’t anticipated seeing much beyond last Autumn), but he’s still here and I, for one, am mightily grateful for that. A book I’ll continue to treasure for many years to come.
The Great Gatsby (F Scott Fitzgerald): I’d never read this book (or seen any of the film versions) but, encouraged by Clive James’s various comments on it, I thought I’d give it a “go”. First published in 1925, it paints a picture of a lifestyle and a decade that is both fascinating and horrific… about the American dream in a time when it had descended into decadence – an era, known for unprecedented economic prosperity, the evolution of jazz music, flapper culture, bootlegging and other criminal activity, is plausibly depicted in the novel. Loosely based on some of Fitzgerald’s own experiences/acquaintances… idolising the very rich and their seductive and exciting lifestyle… with, for some, brutal consequences. Beautifully crafted writing.
Dancing Barefoot - The Patti Smith Story (Dave Thompson): Although I’ve got her album “Land” (1975-2002), I’ve never really been a big fan of Patti Smith (or her music). I still see her as the loud-mouthed, foul-mouthed, provocative, anarchistic, geeky singer/poet she was in the 1970s/80s. She’s clearly now seen as an important figure of the rock/punk era… and probably rightly so. This biography, published in 2011, is perhaps what you’d expect from a musical journalist (well, what I anticipated, at least) – full of glib phrases and re-hashed quotes. Its saving grace is that it also fills in some of the interesting background details. It’s also made me play her music again… and, crucially, to watch some of her LIVE performances on YouTube.  
Life After Life (Kate Atkinson): This is our Book Group’s latest book. My book’s cover included the following words of description: What if you had the chance to live your life again and again, until you finally got it right?... Would you eventually be able to save the world from its own inevitable destiny? And would you even want to?  This multi-layered, complex novel follows the story of Ursula Todd – and lives out a number of her lives starting (again and again) in 1910. This intriguing synopsis might sound somewhat bizarre, but it’s a key premise of the book. Atkinson is a hugely-gifted, intelligent and inventive writer. She has an extraordinary ability to evoke the past and also to find humour and warmth - even in life’s grimmest circumstances. I really enjoyed this clever, intriguing book. I’d previously only read one other novel by Kate Atkinson (Behind The Scenes At The Museum – excellent!) and definitely need read more of her work. Quite brilliant.

august 2014 books

still more book stuff:

Mapp+Lucia (E F Benson): I’d not read any of EF Benson’s Mapp+Lucia series of novels before now – about the polite, terribly-English society of the 1930s and a clash of two titans (Elizabeth Mapp and Emmeline “Lucia” Lucas), who plot and scheme against each other in an effort to be the centre of their social circle. It’s beautifully observed and delightfully funny (and much better than Jeeves+Wooster, in my view). It seems that the only people who work for a living at that time were servants and shopkeepers... the haves and the have-nots (life doesn’t change!). By coincidence, our recent Sussex holiday gave us an opportunity to visit Lamb House in Rye (used by Benson as the model for the “Mallards” house).
Unfurling (Ian Adams): This is a book of poems by my great mate Ian. Ever since I first knew him, Ian’s always had a way with words – the ability to express profound things in a simple, knowing way. Over recent years, he’s increasingly used the vehicle of poetry to help illustrate or support his other writing (and his photographs) and so it’s lovely that he’s now produced this first book of poetry. This is a beautiful book. The fundamental thread is about our awareness of the world, the people around us and ourselves. Many of the poems have a spiritual connection (but are very accessible whatever your background) - about rediscovery, about seeing (and looking), about simple living, about hope, about understanding and awareness, about memory, about places and objects and, crucially, about love. The book is packed with beautiful nuggets that stop you in your tracks… and make you smile or just think afresh. It’s a simple and yet profound book by a writer of great wisdom and creativity. I loved it and know it will be one of those books that I revisit on a very frequent basis.  
Breakfast At Tiffany’s (Truman Capote): It seems very strange that I’ve never read this book before (or, indeed, seen the film), so it now feels good to have done so at last (the book, that is). As you probably know, the book is set in New York of the 1940s where the main character, Holly Golightly, lives a complex life which mixes innocence with gold-digging and integrity with brashness. She’s beautiful, teasing, intelligent, generous and witty… she entertains men at all hours (mainly Mafia gangsters and playboy millionaires) and attracts the affections of almost everyone. Beautifully written and with an excellent, believable dialogue. As a complete aside (the book was first published in 1958), I thought it was interesting to note that one of the other female characters went by the name of “Margaret Thatcher Fitzhue Wildwood” (did Capote know Maggie Thatcher’s parents I wonder? Almost certainly not… but I found it amusing nevertheless). My edition also contained the following three intriguing stories: “House of Flowers”, “A Diamond Guitar” and “A Christmas Memory”.
Now You Know (Michael Frayn): Published in 1992, more than 20 years before anyone had heard about Edward Snowden, this book delves into the fictitious world of a pressure group dedicated to the cause of open government. I like Frayn’s writing and, initially, I thought it was going to be a fascinating satirical novel about governmental secrecy. Disappointingly, in my view, it became an almost sentimental story about a group of sad, but amusing, characters who are all trying to keep aspects of their own lives secret. Very readable, nevertheless – EXCEPT for Frayn’s decision to tell the story through a series of first-person narratives (featuring all the main characters, but without any indication who was speaking)… but I frequently needed to read on half a page to discover who had actually taken over the dialogue. Very irritating!
At The Pillars Of Hercules (Clive James): As I think I’ve posted before, I just love James’s writing… he’s irritatingly clever, brilliantly funny (or insightful/critical/elegant… delete as necessary) and, it seems, can write/talk about virtually any subject with engaging candour. This is a collection of critical essays, written in 1973-77, which range from the legacy of Auden and Larkin to the likes of Chandler, Solzhenitsyn, Stoppard and Lord Longford – all showing incredible depth of knowledge and exhaustive detail. I freely admit that I hadn’t even heard of many of the writers he was discussing (eg. Robert Lowell, Donald Davie, Kenneth Slessor and Nigel Balchin?). People who perhaps have only ever seen Clive James on television (where he seems to specialise in wonderful one-liners of which Chandler’s Marlowe would be proud) won’t appreciate his huge intellect. Yes, he is opinionated and egotistical, but he also has a gift for literary criticism and a way with words that I’ve always found incredibly impressive - even if he often writes stuff that is FAR too clever for me (there were times in this book that I frequently counted two or three words per page that I hadn’t a clue what they meant… and couldn’t be bothered to find out!). Another absorbing, brilliant book… if you like Clive James, that is!    

thresholds

As some of you may know, I simply love the work of John O’Donohue.

I’ve previously used this extract from his wonderful piece entitled “To Cross the Thresholds Worthily When a Great Moment Knocks on the Door of your Heart” (from his book “Benedictus”) in an assembly for Year 11 school-leavers:
“It remains the dream of every life to realise itself, to reach out and lift itself up to greater heights. A life that continues to remain on the safe side of its own habits and repetitions, that never engages with risk of its own possibilities, remains an unlived life.
There is within each heart a hidden voice that calls out for freedom and creativity.
We often linger for years in spaces that are too small and shabby for the grandeur of our spirit.  Yet experience always remains faithful to us. If lived truthfully and generously, it will always guide us towards the real pastures.
Looking back along a life’s journey, you come to see how each of the central phases of your life began at a decisive threshold where you left one way of being and entered another. A threshold is not simply an accidental line that happens to separate one region from another.  It is an intense frontier that divides a world of feeling from another. Often a threshold only becomes visible once you have crossed it. Crossing can often mean the total loss of all you enjoyed while on the other side; it becomes a dividing line between the past and the future. More often than not, the reason you cannot return to where you were is that you have changed; you are no longer the one who crossed over…”

At the end of my time on Iona, I wanted to say a few words to my fellow-volunteers – in gratitude and appreciation for all that they’d meant to me during my stint on the island… and so, once again, I used these words of John O’Donohue’s at my final meeting with them to express how I’d felt that our time together had, in various ways, been a kind of threshold for all of us too.

Since returning home, I’ve been using a book of daily readings and meditations from the Iona Community entitled “Living Letters of the Word”. Significantly, today’s reading was an extract from an Iona Community Annual Report by Peter MacDonald (Leader of the Iona Community – whom I’d met during my time on the island) entitled “A Threshold Experience”(!). Here’s an extract:
“Much of the Iona Community’s work is concerned with bringing together people from different backgrounds and with different perspectives in safe but creatively provocative encounters and situations. In academic fields such as anthropology and psychology, such encounters and situations are described as ‘liminal’. The Latin word ‘limen’ means threshold. Threshold space where all transformation happens. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest and writer who led a programme week in the Abbey, comments: ‘Nothing good or creative emerges from business as usual. This is why much of the work of God is to get people into liminal space, and to keep them there long enough so they can learn something essential. It is the ultimate teachable space… maybe the only one. Most spiritual giants try to live lives in “chronic liminality” in some sense. They know it is the only position that insures ongoing wisdom, broader perspective and ever-deeper compassion…’
“Liminal time and space provide us with the opportunity to step back from our lives, from social and cultural norms, to look at them afresh, enabling transformation to take place. The Iona Community believes that Christians are called to threshold spaces and activities”.
Precisely.
Photo: door to St Columba's Shrine, Iona Abbey. 

greenbelt 2011

Moira+I spent the long Bank Holiday weekend having a very good time again at Greenbelt…. once again, enjoying meeting up with lots and lots of very good friends. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that we again gave camping a miss (I blame Moira) and stayed at the local Premier Inn! We got to see/hear lots of brilliant stuff but, inevitably, probably also missed lots of other magical stuff – there’s a VERY full programme and there are always a number of things you’d like to go to that just happen to coincide with other “must see” things. Difficult to sum everything up, but:
SOME OF THE REALLY POSITIVE STUFF:
The Unthanks were absolutely brilliant; also really enjoyed “Show of Hands” (of course!), Kate Rusby, Iain Archer and Martyn Joseph.
Some surprise bonuses (music): Luke Jackson, Edwina Hayes and Lobelia in the Performance Cafe.
Loved Ian Adams’s stuff (especially the poetry) – despite the tiny “venue”!
Loved meeting up with all our friends, but especially Sue, Si, Ed and Jonah (we need to see them more often!).
Was impressed by Nadia Bolz-Weber and Rob Bell (and was somewhat taken aback by the length of his book-signing queue – just 60metres – after one of his talks).
“Where The Wild Things Are” print-making and costume-making was amazing.
Loved the “Sound of Conversations” (Pecha Kucha).
I’m NOT a knitter(!), but was amazed by the number of people (of all ages) who were involved in “Woolly Thinking”.
The Methodist Art Collection included some stunning pieces.
Faisal Islam (Channel 4 News finance guru) was SO impressive!
SOME OF THE SAD STUFF:
Really missed Gail not being there (she’s been suffering from labyrinthitis over recent days).
Feel really bad that I missed Billy Bragg perform on Friday night (we’d already got pretty wet but, apparently, he was superb)(went to see him speak the following morning – good, but not quite the same thing!).
Spent far too much money (on food, books and CDs)!
Anyway, it was another great festival!
Photo montague (left to right from top row down): Billy Bragg, Kate Rusby, Woolly Thinking, Lobelia, Ian Adams, Simon Mayo, Simon Taylor+Paul Roberts, Iain Archer, Rob Bell, Steve Knightley (Show of Hands), Faisal Islam, Mainstage, Rachel Unthanks, Nadia Bolz-Weber and a Citroen catering wagon!

sir ken robinson+education

It was fascinating listening to Sir Ken Robinson talking about education on yesterday’s Radio 4’s “Saturday Live” programme. I’d come across him for the first time last year (I blogged about him in July 2009). Really interesting, thought-provoking bloke and I think you should watch/listen to his two “Ted Talks” (they’re only 18 minutes long and very worthwhile!). I particularly love his reference to WB Yeates’s poem “Cloths of Heaven” at the very end of his second talk:
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
It’s not very often that I yearn to have followed a different “career” route but, if I had come across him when I was in my twenties or thirties, I think I might have been encouraged, in my own naive inadequate way, to make waves in the world of education!