o’hooley+tidow at st george’s (again)…

Ruth and I went along to St George’s last night to see/hear Belinda O’Hooley and Heidi Tidow perform their eclectic mix of thought-provoking songs and intricate harmonies. This was the third time I’d seen them over the past seven years and, once again, I came away feeling very impressed.

They’ve established themselves as gifted singer-songwriters and they frequently write about difficult, painful subjects such as racism, animal cruelty, poverty, vulnerability and child abuse with remarkable, understated clarity. Over the past year or so, they’ve attracted additional admirers after their song “Gentleman Jack” (written in 2012 about 19th Century diarist, writer, traveller, mountaineer, rural gentlewoman, and industrialist Anne Lister) was featured in the BBC drama series of the same name. O’Hooley is a highly-talented musician (piano and accordion), whilst Tidow ‘limits herself’ to foot percussion and kazoo!

They both come across as rather lovely people - compassionate, sincere, down-to-earth and very amusing.

Another lovely evening… in an excellent concert venue.

Photo: O’Hooley+Tidow at last night’s concert (as you can see, we were in the gallery!)

january-february 2020 books…

Barchester Towers (Anthony Trolloppe): Over the years, there have been LOTS of ‘classic’ novels that I’ve avoided reading… and I only decided to read this one after Moira’s bookgroup had recently enjoyed (re-)reading it. I’m very pleased I did. As you probably already know, Trollope’s book is set in the fictional cathedral town of Barchester and recounts the tales, intrigues and ambitions (and loves) amongst that pillar of Victorian society – the Church. I particularly enjoyed the names of some of the characters (Tom Towers, the Quiverfuls, Sir Omicron Pie etc) and Trollope’s observations from the perspective of the writer (eg. “We must now take leave of Mr Slope, and of the bishop also, and of Mrs Proudie. These leave-takings in novels are as disagreeable as they are in real life; not so sad…”). The writing is elegant, clever and very amusing - the plot frequently reads something akin to a ‘Whitehall farce’ (but in a good way). I think my only real criticism is that this farce has too many acts(!) - it’s a long book, written in two combined volumes, totalling over 550 pages. But a very enjoyable read nonetheless.

Factfulness (Hans Rosling): You’ve probably previously come across some of Rosling’s TED talks (that’s how I first ‘discovered’ him). This book essentially tells readers that the world isn’t quite as horrific and they thought… it attempts to train us all how to put ‘news’ into perspective and, for someone (like me!) who frequently views the world as a ‘hopeless case’, that’s got to be good news! The book is full (and I mean ‘full’) of fascinating, frequently surprising facts and statistics. Rosling is quite brilliant (he died in 2017) and, without doubt, I’ll continue to dip into this book on a regular basis… and continue to be surprised by many of its findings. I admit there were times when I found its style somewhat ‘smug’ (eg. he’d frequently provide readers with a number of statements and ask them to identify which one was actually true or most accurate. After the first few pages, you became aware that the ‘true’ one will be the one you’d probably regarded as the most unlikely… and he would be telling readers that even a bunch of chimpanzees would be more likely to choose the correct answer than you… or a group of nuclear scientists or whatever). But, hey, a fascinating and ‘hopeful’ book. 

May Week was In June (Clive James): I first read this 29 years ago (blimey)… I notice that, on the cover of my 1991 edition, Nigella Lawson – writing for ‘Book Choice’ is quoted as follows: “This is a good  book” (that’s the entire quote!). On the basis of such eloquence and insight, I think I’m going to be a book reviewer when I grow up. As you probably know, I just love James’s writing and I’ve so enjoyed re-reading this book. His final years ‘studying’ at Cambridge in the 1960s coinciding with my time starting at the School of Architecture in Oxford – so, although I was never part of the ‘Oxbridge scene’ (obviously!), I was very familiar with May Week traditions/May Balls and the like ‘by association’ (ie. by being a student in Oxford) and what else was happening in the world at that time (student riots in Paris, Vietnam war, Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia, Bobby Kennedy+Martin Luther King Jnr assassinations, swinging 60s, music, fashion etc). He’s highly intelligent and ridiculously well-read, he’s conceited… and he’s very, very funny. This recounts the time (living something of a hand-to-mouth existence) when he threw himself in to Footlights, film reviewing, writing poetry, developing a passion for the Arts, discovering the stunning beauty of Florence, falling in love (frequently), getting married… and reading countless works of literature (anything so long as it wasn’t on the curriculum). I’m almost certainly going to have to re-read lots of his other books (I’ve got LOTS of them). I loved re-reading this one.

Heimat (Nora Krug): This is a rather poignant and beautiful book. It’s a German family album put together by a German-American woman, now living in New York, about her family’s life in Germany as the Nazis rose to power as she seeks to unearth their role in the Holocaust. Krug grew up as a second-generation German after WW2, in the shadow of her country’s past… and she decided she couldn’t know who she was without confronting where she’d come from. The entire book is handwritten and hand-drawn (almost in the form of a scrapbook), with additional photographs and extracts from old letters. Much of the book relates to her grandfather’s exploits before and during the war. She revisits her family’s ‘hometown’ in Germany; she talks to relatives of people who might have known her family… it proves to be a difficult, but important, journey. Highly original and powerful. 

Drive Your Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead (Olga Tokarczuk): I previously read this exactly a year ago but, as it’s our bookgroup’s latest book (we chose from a range of gifted authors from the EU in a sort of anti-Brexit solidarity!), I’ve just re-read it. This is what I wrote a year ago: “Man Booker International Prize-winner Olga Tokarezuk is a remarkable writer. This beautifully-written (and beautifully-translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones) noir novel is set in a remote Polish village and is an account given by an eccentric, reclusive woman in her sixties (who believes in the stars, prefers animals to people… and is fond of the poetry of William Blake) following the disappearance of her two dogs. I found its calm-but-quirky, narrative voice strangely compelling. It’s essentially a thought-provoking, humorous crime story… and yet, it’s much more than that: it’s also about animal rights, about injustice against marginalised people and about what many would see as the hypocrisy of traditional religion. I really really enjoyed it”. In re-reading the book, I realised just how much of the detail I’d forgotten, but again found the character of the ‘madwoman’ both quirky and charming. In her Guardian review, writer Sarah Perry says this: “The novel is almost impossible to categorise. It is, in effect, a murder mystery: in the bleak Polish midwinter, men in an isolated village are being murdered, and it is left to Janina Duszejko, a kind of eastern European Miss Marple, to identify the murderer”... 

From the very first page, we learn that she (Janina Duszejko) is ‘already at an age and additionally in a state where I must always wash my feet thoroughly before bed, in the event of having to be removed by an ambulance in the Night’! I loved her narrative voice as she describes her routines, her neighbours and her struggles to come to terms with what she sees as a chaotic world. I suspect that not everyone in our bookgroup will admire it as much as I do, so our discussion will be fascinating. I’d definitely recommend it.

parasite…

I went along to the Watershed at lunchtime to see Bong Joon Ho’s much-acclaimed film “Parasite” (which, as I’m sure you’ve heard, was voted the Oscar’s ‘Best Picture 2020’ – plus Best Director, Best Screenplay and Best Foreign Language film).

Unsurprisingly, the cinema was COMPLETELY full, all seats sold in advance.

Set in South Korea, I’ve seen the film described as “a satirical suspense thriller” (I’m not sure if this quite does the film justice… but it’s difficult to come up with something that properly conveys its essence). Essentially, the key players (the ‘parasites’) are a somewhat dubious, street-wise, unemployed family (father, mother plus teenage son and daughter) who live in an awful basement flat in the seediest side of town and a very rich, high flying family (father, mother, teenage daughter and younger son) who live an extremely grand architect-designed, spacious house in the town’s predictably posh part.

One summer, the poor family’s son, posing as a bright, confident college student, gets the chance to tutor the rich family’s teenage daughter. The mother is duly conned and convinced she’s found the perfect tutor… and he then manages to persuade the mother to employ his sister (not that the mother knows it’s his sister) as an art tutor for her younger son. It’s all bluff and posing but, very quickly, the former unemployed siblings realise that they’re on to a ‘very good thing’… and, in turn, manage to get the housekeeper and chauffeur sacked and replaced by… their mother and father (but, again, the rich family aren’t aware of this)!

Are you following me?

I think it would be unfair to explain much more of the plot… but let’s just say that it all doesn’t end wonderfully well for any of the players (and it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘Upstairs, Downstairs!).

It’s a film that highlights the contrasting worlds of the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’. It’s funny. It’s a cross between a horror picture and a slapstick film. It’s wonderfully put together and acted… and it’s bizarrely brilliant.

You’re really going to have to see it for yourself, aren’t you… you won’t be disappointed.

the lighthouse..

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Robert Eggers’ film “The Lighthouse”. It’s a story/psychological thriller about two lighthouse keepers on a remote New England island in the 1890s. Ephraim Winslow (Robert Pattinson) reluctantly arrives on the island to undertake work at its lighthouse for four weeks. He’s met by veteran seafarer Tom Wake (Willem Dafoe) who is the senior officer and who issues all the orders – essentially Wake alone keeps the light in operation, while Winslow is given all the thankless, punishing physical work. And so starts a difficult, volatile, combative relationship...

It’s all pretty grim: the weather is dire pretty well throughout the film – storm-force winds, lashing rain and wild, wild seas (and accentuated by the shimmering 35mm black and white filming) – and the lighthouse keepers descend into a nightmarish world of resentment, paranoia and fear. Although the pair have moments of playful merriment (with singing, table-thumping and dancing – all largely thanks to alcohol), more and more of their time is spent in argument, physical confrontation, furious baiting and hatred.

The acting is quite brilliant and the cinematography (Jarin Blaschke) and score (Mark Korven) both a perfect match.

The film verges on being a horror movie… it’s haunting. It certainly deals with madness, loneliness, claustrophobic environment, frustration, periodic bouts of frightening drunkenness and all the awfulness of dealing with sewage, full chamber-pots, primitive facilities... and seagulls.

The dialogue is frequently mumbled – so I was delighted that I watched the Watershed’s sub-titled version

It’s a very bleak, uncomfortable film… but it’s also rather beautiful and hugely impressive.

I don't think it's a film that one can 'enjoy', as such, but I can certainly appreciate why so many film critics have been giving it five-star reviews. Definitely worth seeing.

missing you already...

The UK bidding farewell to the EU has been the worst political experience in my lifetime. We’ve gone from those heady days of the London 2012 Olympics - when the entire country seemed to come together - to these dark days (you may have a different view on this, of course) of division, confrontation and even hatred. Despite the fact that a majority of the population voted in December for parties which supported a second referendum, Brexit has now happened (even though we still don’t know its consequences) and, clearly, we need to move on.

Today, the Guardian published a collection of impressive, thoughtful reflections from writers, artists, musicians, and cultural figures from across the EU (check it out here).

I found them hugely powerful insights into what we had lost.

Every single one of the reflections is worth reading, but here are just a few extracts:

“What breaks my heart in Britain leaving the European project is the dark message that Brexit delivers to the entire planet: every nation for itself, instead of collaborating for the common good; everybody making its own rules, instead of searching for common ground; every group competing with the others, instead of solving the common problems together. Brexit is a step in the direction of disintegration, disunity, confrontation; a path that has proven dramatically dangerous so many times in the past” (Carlo Rovelli, Physicist. Italy).

“The tragedy of Brexit is that it was shaped and designed after the referendum. Nobody ever voted for what has been done. Most people voting for Brexit had no vision or idea of all it would entail. The depth of the nonsense of ‘a little bit’ undoing 40 years of integration and shared progress only became apparent to them after the event… The other tragedy is that Labour didn’t distance itself from the Brexit project, when the neoliberal hard-right nature of its ideology came to light after 2016. Why the party and its leader remained on the fence is beyond belief” (Wolfgang Tillmans, Photographer+Turner prize-winner. Germany).

“Brexit is, above all, a lesson to those – and I’m one of them – who believe that no good can ever come from nationalism and isolationism. Brexit seduces some to fantasise about an independent Scotland and a united Ireland. Perhaps it reveals the conscious or unconscious desire to redraw borders without an actual war. Britain’s departure is not so much a bitter lesson for populists as it is a bitter defeat for those who hoped and fought for a different outcome. Ending the status quo is often not a sign of progress but just another example of the old and all too human lust for destruction” (Arnon Grunberg, writer+columnist. Netherlands).

“The EU may not be perfect but Finland has experienced unprecedented prosperity and stability since it joined. And for Finnish kids to have all of Europe open to them through Erasmus and other programmes, it’s so beautifully enriching. But more than that, the very idea is wonderful. It is utopian, it is deeply human; it puts a lot of faith in the goodness and rationality of people. I feel that there are not that many other ideas around odf that magnitude. To abandon it feels very wrong to me. The very decision to start to close your borders, to leave one of the greatest ideas of unity, friendship, liberty and peace in recent history – maybe ever – is immense” (Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor London Philharmonia orchestra. Finland).

“I am sorry the British are leaving at a time when none of the big social problems: growing inequality or global migration, the enormous power of international corporations and financial markets, or the climate crisis, can be solved by individual nation states. I’m sorry that at a time in history crying out for internationalism that the British people have given up on their European identity. I will miss the British fighting spirit, defiance and wit, but not its contempt for the collective pursuit of a more democratic, more equal, more solidarity-based, fairer and greener Europe” (Dino Bauk, columnist and short-story writer. Slovenia).

“I have admired Britain ever since I was very young for, among other things, having just the right dose of conservatism and humour. But lately, some UK politicians have been exploring a ‘revolutionary’ style that has led to a sad loss of humour. It is hard to understand how, out of all the many imperfections in today’s world, one could choose the fragile European Union as the adversary? How can isolation be a political ideal? (Andrei Plesu, Philosopher+former foreign minister. Romania).

For me, the phrase “Missing you already” is a massive understatement.

Note: “Missing You Already”, The Guardian supplement: 1 February 2020 (editors: Katherine Butler, Mark Rice-Oxley, Joe Stone and Clare Margetson).

january 2020 books…

Waiting For The Last Bus (Richard Holloway): I love Holloway’s gentle wisdom and compassion. Holloway (former Bishop of Edinburgh) is now 86 years old and, for him, having spent a lifetime at the bedsides of the dying, writing a book about life and death is both close to his heart and insightful for us all. In recent years (since 2000?), he has taken “an agnostic worldview and commenting widely on issues concerning religious belief in the modern world” (as described in Wikipedia) and his own theological position has become increasingly radical (he has described himself as an "after-religionist", with strong faith in humanity). I found myself agreeing with LOTS of his reflections, such as: the wonders of modern medicine and its ability to keep most of us alive well into our eighties but also with “signs of having a profoundly distorting effect on the balance of society as a whole”; and also in politics: “elderly voters are a powerful reactionary force in politics… they are more disciplined and consistent than the young in voting, so as they increase in size as a cohort of the population their envies and resentments are bound to have an increasingly distorting effect on political processes”. This is a wonderfully tender book – joyful and moving, challenging and comforting – which calls on its readers to think seriously about the meaning of life itself. I loved it.

Morning Glory On The Vine (Joni Mitchell): This is a very beautiful book, published in 2019, comprising some of Mitchell’s early poems, songs and drawings (she used to carry a sketchbook with her everywhere she went). In 1971, her manager and agent took a binder of her drawings and hand-written lyrics and had a limited edition of books made up for Mitchell to give out to friends as Christmas presents that year. There are some 25 poems and 35 song lyrics in the book. Obviously, as an avid Mitchell fan since the late 1960s, I was familiar with most of the song lyrics (although I had forgotten two or three from her 1968 ‘Song to a Seagull’ album – and another remained unreleased until 2009, on ‘Amchitka’). I love her sketches and suspect I might try to emulate her ‘style’ in a few of my sketchbooks in due course! It’s a book I’ll continue to ‘dip into’ for evermore.

Hope In The Dark (Rebecca Solnit): At a time when I’m feeling helpless and hopeless about so much in the world, I felt the need for something a little uplifting… hence this book. Solnit is an activist, columnist and cultural historian and this is a fascinating and well-written reminder of social change and activism (climate change, war in Iraq, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street etc) that has happened over the past five decades. The book comprises a series of essays and was first published in 2004 (this third edition, published in 2016, contains additional contributions). I certainly found it inspiring but, at the same time, was reminded of how often we come across history repeating itself, the ‘deafness’ of politicians and the same mistakes being made. But it was also a useful reminder of just how much progress HAS been made in so many areas – attitudes towards fossil fuels; the need to radically reduce carbon emissions; apartheid; homophobia; food banks etc etc - and also a reminder that ordinary people have frequently overcome powerful corporations and overturned political policies. So, yes, a hopeful book – but also a reminder of how much energy and determination is necessary to help make desperately-needed changes. 

The Sixteen Trees Of The Somme (Lars Mytting): I think I was destined to read this book (recommended by one of my lovely bookgroup friends, Emily)… a mystery that includes the isle of Shetland and the WW1 battlefields of the Somme. The novel is written through the eyes of Edvard, a young man in his 20s, who grows up on a remote mountain farmstead in Norway with his grandfather. The death of his parents, when he was 3 years old, has always been shrouded in mystery. When his grandfather dies and it transpires that the undertakers already have a beautiful, highly ornate coffin set aside for him, designed and made by his estranged brother, Edvard embarks on a voyage of discovery which takes him on a long journey – from Norway, to the Shetlands and to the battlefields of France. It’s an evocative, intricate, complicated (at times perhaps overly complicated?), clever story about the love of wood and finding your own self. I really enjoyed it… it ticked all the boxes for me. It’s a very beautiful, satisfying book.

The Box Of Delights (John Masefield): This children’s novel (published in 1935) is the slightly unusual (perhaps even strange?) choice for our bookgroup’s next book. We’d decided to select a ‘Classic’ novel for our book choice and we’d all come up with various suggestions, but this one ‘won the vote’. It’s a fantasy tale of a 12 year-old boy returning from boarding school when he finds himself mixed up in a battle with an evil gang (and wolves), led by a magician, to possess a mysterious box. It allows the owner to shrink in size, to fly swiftly, to go into the past and to experience the magical wonders contained within the box. It felt a bit like Enid Blyton ‘doing’ Harry Potter (but very badly) - with ‘Alice in Wonderland’, ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ and a smattering of ‘Dr Who’ thrown in. Yes, I accept that I need to take account of when it written and yes, it’s highly inventive and imaginative… but I found it all a little TOO ridiculous. There were several times when it seemed that Masefield couldn’t work out the next stage of the plot and so simply conjured something up (literally)(a bit like how Dr Who’s ‘sonic screwdriver’ always seems to save its writers when they can’t work out what happens next!). Yes, there were parts that I found amusing - especially the attitude and ‘logic’ of the police inspector and when the radio announcer asked the public “to co-operate with the Police by giving instant, accurate information of a red, white, blue, grey, brown or black motor bus – the colours had been variously given by various observers…”. ‘The Times’ apparently described the novel (and Masefield’s “The Midnight Folk” companion work) as “two of the greatest children’s books ever written”… but I’m afraid I was rather underwhelmed.

romantics anonymous…

Moira and I went along to the Old Vic last night to see Emma Rice’s/Wise Children’s stage musical “Romantics Anonymous” (a musical adaptation of Jean-Pierre Améris’ 2010 film "Les Emotifs Anonymes" - which I haven’t seen). Rice’s show premiered at Shakespeare’s Globe in 2017.The story focuses on two people who struggle with debilitating, cringe-worthy shyness – they’re overwhelmed by life; they’re hugely insecure and awkward; they avoid eye-contact… and, as far as possible, other people. In fact, ‘Romantics Anonymous’ is a real-life help group that helps people with such shyness and screenwriter/director Jean-Pierre Améris, a highly emotional person himself, had attended real EA (Emotions Anonymous) meetings.

The evening proved to be an intoxicating mix of tender melancholy, joy and hope. It’s touching, funny and uplifting. The cast (led by the perfect Carly Bawden, playing Angélique, and the excellent Marc Antolin, playing Jean-René) were all rather wonderful – and genuinely seemed to be enjoying themselves (which in itself is quite intoxicating).Although I’m not a massive lover of stage musicals, last night demonstrated (yet again!) how wrong I frequently am to form such ‘rigid’ opinions. The songs (and the musicians) were consistently very good and ALL the singers excellent (especially Bawden). I also loved the set design, the wealth of neon signs and the incidental, beautifully-choreographed ‘extras’.
Yes, it all made for a delightful, feel-good, joyful (even hopeful!) evening of theatre - magical theatre at its very best… and greeted by last night’s enthusiastic audience with a standing ovation.A perfect answer to the January blues!
PS: I also loved that, towards the end of the interval (and completely in the spirit of the production), the cast entered the packed Foyer and singing a worthy lament (accompanied on accordion, guitar and the like)… which ended up with the words “right, now get back into the theatre you lot and we’ll carry on with the show” (or words to that effect!).
PPS: Wise Children is a relatively new theatre company, created and led by artistic director Emma Rice and based in Bristol. We saw their wonderful “Wise Children” production (based on Angela Carter’s novel) last February – which proved to be my favourite piece of theatre last year).
PPPS: Sorry, but I think the photograph is from the Shakespeare Globe's 2017 premiere.

jojo rabbit…

My third trip to the cinema this year (and this includes two in the last three days!).

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Taika Waititi’s “Jojo Rabbit” - despite being told in advance that there were a couple of pretty poor reviews in The Guardian. But, hey, it came highly recommended from a couple of friends, so I decided to take the ‘risk’… and I’m REALLY pleased I did.

I enjoyed it immensely.

It’s a bizarre black comedy (the Watershed blurb described it as a “smart anti-hate WWII satire”) and is set in Germany in the last days of the war, where 10 year-old Jojo’s (Roman Griffin Davis) only friend is an imaginary (and idiotic) Adolf Hitler (played by Waititi himself)… but Jojo’s misguided, fanatical faith in the Hitler Youth is shaken when he discovers that his single mother (Scarlett Johansson) is hiding a young Jewish girl (Thomasin McKenzie) in their attic.

It’s a completely ludicrous scenario… and yet I thought it worked beautifully.

I found the funny bits (and there were lots) laugh-out-loud funny… and yet, the film was also able to capture the sadness, the pain and the absolute horror of war.

For the second time in a matter of days, I find myself writing the words: the “futility and horror of war” (in my “1917” review), but I also think the film powerfully highlighted the potential evil of ideology and its frightening consequences.

I thought all the actors were simply perfect in their roles (I previously omitted Sam Rockwell who played an army officer who runs the Hitler Youth camp and Jojo's 'other' best friend Yorki, played by Archie Yates)… and I also really loved the cinematography (which managed to incorporate beautiful colour palettes, clothes and interiors). At times, it even felt like a Wes Anderson film.

I went along not quite knowing what I was letting myself in for (and, yes, I absolutely accept that this film won’t be for ‘everyone’), but I absolutely LOVED it – even better than the brilliant “1917” film in my view (I know!). I needed a film that would make me laugh and this certainly did (and it very nearly made me cry too). Quite ridiculously perhaps, it also made me feel quite joyful and even strangely hopeful.

I don’t want to give too much of the plot away (whisper: Germany lost the war), but I also thought the end of the film – when Jojo and the young Jewish girl start dancing on the street – was just PERFECT*.

PS: *They start dancing to David Bowie’s “Heroes” (the German version, of course) – one of my favourite songs… for lots of nostalgic reasons.

PPS: In an interview, director/writer Waititi said this: “When Hitler got into power in 1933, little by little, every single day or every week, there was just one small change. People recognised that it was wrong, but it wasn’t big enough to really get everyone up in arms. It wasn’t big enough until it became too late…”.

1917...

I went along to the Watershed again yesterday to see Sam Mendes’ much-acclaimed film ‘1917’. It’s a WW1 drama based on the real-life experiences of Mendes’ grandfather Alfred. It follows two young soldiers Schofield (played by the impressive George MacKay) and Blake (equally impressive Dean-Charles Chapman) as they undertake a perilous mission in a race against time to deliver a warning message to save another regiment from a German ambush. Among the 1,600 men whose lives are at risk is Blake’s own brother…

It’s an incredibly powerful film – made all the more so by cinematographer Roger Deakins’ presentation as a ‘one take shot’ in real time (Schofield is never out of the frame).

The film underlines the futility and horror of war – with soldiers on both sides mere pawns responding to orders given by Generals who are positioned well back from immediate danger. 
The ‘one shot take’ emphasises the stark reality of what it was like to be a soldier on the front line… and the randomness and luck involved in survival (Blake had been given his orders to convey the important message and told to take a ‘mate’ with him).

The film underlines the dreadfulness of conflict… as Schofield and Blake make their way across no-man’s land, they have to contend with rats, bodies (in various states of decay), craters left by bombs and large shells, mud, noise, imminent danger and the fear of the unknown.

An important, hugely-impressive, memorable and sobering film.

I think you need to see it.

PS: It was also sobering to recall that my grandfather, Frank Walker, was probably positioned within 30 miles of Schofield+Blake’s frightening ‘escapade’. I wrote a blog about Frank’s war (he was one of the original members of the British Expeditionary Force that arrived at le Havre, France, at the very start of the war) – tracking his day-to-day movements from his unit’s war diaries now located in the National Archives. Sadly, the diaries from 1917-18 are understood to have been destroyed in a fire in London.  

little women...

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to watch Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women” – in the words of the cinema’s blurb: “a fresh interpretation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved 1868 novel”. I knew the basic storyline, but had never read the book (or any of its sequels). So, you probably know far more about it than me!

Essentially, four teenaged sisters and their mother live in a new neighbourhood in Massachusetts in ‘genteel poverty’ (with the emphasis on the ‘genteel’, it seems to me). Having lost all his money, their father is acting as a pastor, miles from home, involved in the American Civil War…

The original book was loosely based on Alcott’s own family experiences – although (according to Wikipedia) she had an improvident, impractical father and the family suffered REAL poverty and occasional hunger – not any of this ‘genteel’ stuff (and she needed to write in an attempt to earn some money for the impoverished family).

It’s certainly a heart-warming film, a powerful story, full of strong, attractive characters and fine actors (including Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Timothée Chalamet, Laura Dern and Meryl Streep – and I absolutely fell in love with Saoirse Ronan’s Jo March character!) and, clearly, the story is an endearing one… but, for me – despite me being something of a sentimental old fool(!) – I found it all rather too sugar-coated for my liking.

Clearly, having now read a few film reviews (which seem to consistently give it 5-stars – with the occasional 4-star!), I’m very much in the minority. I DID enjoy the film – and no doubt in years to come we’ll be watching re-runs on cosy, winter Sunday afternoons around the fireside sipping our mulled wine and feeling good about the world – but I’m pretty sure it won’t make my top 10 films of 2020 (ok, so this is my FIRST film of the year!).

PS: You’ll no doubt remember that Greta Gerwig directed the much-acclaimed “Lady Bird” film (which I loved), which also featured the wonderful Saoirse Ronan in the lead role.

new year reflections: 31 december 2019…

Another year’s reflections (as always - a reminder for ME - I need to write stuff down in order to remember it all!):
It’s been a good year (I turned 70… and survived!), DESPITE the ongoing, depressing, frustrating stuff regarding Trump, Brexit, General Election, Climate Crisis etc etc.

When it comes to politics, I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hopeless and helpless as I have done this year… but perhaps it’s time to try to move on.

So let’s set such matters aside and concentrate on the good stuff:  

WONDERFUL BOOKS:
During the year, I joined one of our StorySmith’s (our local bookshop) Book Groups. It’s been rather lovely… interesting books, lovely people and good fun too. I read an awful lot of books (94!) this year (I need to get out more often!) - and so I’ve limited the list to just thirteen authors (but desperately cheating, by highlighting 21 books!)(it would have been very easy to have selected 30 plus!):

Lanny (Max Porter); The Salt Path (Raynar Winn); Signs (Si Smith); Scar (Alice Broadway); The Overstory (Richard Powers); Morning and Plot 29 (Allan Jenkins); The Testaments (Margaret Atwood); The Living Mountain (Nan Shepherd); A Shepherd’s Life (WH Hudson); A Year Of Magical Thinking (Joan Didion); The Silence Of The Girls (Pat Barker); The Marches (Rory Stewart); and all eight novels from the ‘Shetland’ series (Ann Cleeves)!

GREAT FILMS:
I haven’t been to the cinema quite as much this year. I ended up watching just 19 films this year. My top eight(?) in vague order: So Long, My Son; Woman At War; The Irishman; Sorry we Missed You; Vice; The Favourite; Green Book; A Private War; and Sunset.

LOVELY LIVE PERFORMANCES:
THEATRE:

Pride and Prejudice*(*sort of); Wise Children; Amelie, the Musical; Cyrano; and Wild Swimming (Bristol Old Vic).
CONCERTS:
The Unthanks; Three Cane Whale; Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra (three concerts); Trio de Profundis; plus various lunchtime concerts at Saint Stephen’s.
EXHIBITIONS:
Not as many as I’d intended (but I’m also conscious that I’ve not been logging them): Flashes To Ashes In British Art 1692-2019 at the RWA; the Annual Open Exhibition at the RWA; and The Golden Show (Tony+Glen Eastman) at Centrespace.
SPORTING MOMENTS:
I’ve really enjoyed continuing to be a season ticket holder for the Bristol Bears (rugby) - the atmosphere in the ground and the quality of play have been excellent (with one of two exceptions!). I also saw a fair amount of County cricket again this year at Taunton (sadly, frequently frustrated by weather!), Cheltenham and Bristol (very good to have Gloucestershire back in Division One for next season)… including a Friday evening Gloucester v Somerset Twenty20 game… PLUS (for the very first time in my life) watching a Test Match (and it doesn’t get any better than the first day of the first Ashes Test at Edgbaston – thanks to my brilliant brother).

Although I continue to follow my beloved Aston Villa, I’m afraid that my love of football has waned and I’m really no longer that interested.

FRIENDS:
Once again, we’ve been blessed to be able to meet up with our special BABE's (Barnes, Adams, Broadway, Eyres) friends for birthday and family celebrations during the course of the year… and have loved staying in touch with lots of other brilliant friends – either meeting up or via social media - and have also really enjoyed making new friendships. I feel very blessed.
ART STUFF:
Another really enjoyable, busy year, including:
1. I’ve still very much enjoyed continuing to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like This” blog (now more than 2,650 consecutive days - more than 1,325 drawings and 1,325 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 7 years ago). These days (unlike when I first started), every sketch is drawn ‘on location’… which, at times has its challenges, but which I now really prefer and really enjoy.
2. The brilliant Drawing Group I joined in 2017 – organised by the lovely, talented artists Charlotte and Alice Pain – continues to bring me great joy. We meet for two hours most Tuesdays in a variety of locations in and around Bristol. The Group also held a lovely exhibition at Saint Stephen’s, Bristol.
3. Sadly, there was no Arts Trail this year (we’d previously participated for 15 consecutive years) due to lack of people being prepared to organise stuff (I’d been on the Steering Group for something like 10 years, so felt as though I’d done ‘my stint’). However, plans are in place to resurrect the Arts Trail in 2020… so, fingers crossed.

4. Iris, Rosa and I combined again to produce some large window art as part of another very successful Window Wanderland in February (this time our theme was “Dr Who”!).
5. One Week 100 Faces: I participated in this scheme again and duly produced my 100 faces in a week – mainly comprising random cricket spectators! Enjoyed it much more than my previous attempt.

6. Urban Sketchers, Bristol: I joined this wonderful group in March 2018… it’s a worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, we meet up every month and regularly get more than 20 people coming along. It’s very, very enjoyable: we compare notes (and sketchbooks!) and share ideas. It’s hugely enjoyable and I’ve made some lovely new friends. The group’s brilliantly organised by local artists Jules, Jane and Charlotte. It’s become a real highlight and joy.
FAMILY AND SIMPLE PLEASURES:
Cafés, reading, drawing, photography, walking, cinema and, of course, our grandchildren remain very important aspects of my life - it’s SO lovely seeing them develop in their individual, unique ways (and they ALL make me laugh!!). It goes without saying that our daughters (and their husbands!) are quite, quite brilliant.

I also meet up for a cousins’ lunch a couple of times a year – which is very enjoyable.
Feel SO lucky to have the family we have… and great that we all “get on” so well and are able to see each other regularly (even if we don’t see the lovely Chorley/Lancashire contingent as often as we’d like).
SOMETHING YET TO BE CREATED:

More photography?
Each year I vow that I’m “definitely need to give more thought to this”… but, largely, end up bumbling on. I’ve really enjoyed producing double-page drawings in my sketchbooks (I’ve got a whole library of sketchbooks!!) and I’ve been experimenting a lot with watercolour pens (in addition to using my ‘usual’ black line drawings). The results have ranged from ‘interesting’ to ‘laughable failures’ and so I’d like to be able to control my use of the watercolour pens a little better (maybe in conjunction with watercolour paints or inks?). Virtually all my sketches these days are drawn ‘in situ’ and I certainly want to continue this (my folding chair/rucksack has proved a treasured possession!).

I’m also very conscious that I don’t visit the ‘coast’ anything like as frequently as I have in recent years… so maybe that’s something I need to reconsider in 2020.

HOLIDAYS/LEISURE: 
We’ve continued to tighten our belts again this year, but had a really lovely breaks staying in Skipton for a week in the early Autumn and in Plymouth (thanks to our lovely friends Gail+Ian) in May. Simple pleasures.

SPIRITUAL LIFE:
We continue to be part of the lovely Community of Saint Stephens, in the heart of the city, and it really does feel like our ‘spiritual home’. A very stimulating, reflective community and I love the intimacy and informality of its services and that we can actively contribute to discussions. There are some very special people there. We’re very fortunate with our members of clergy (although we’ve sadly seen Chris+Sarah depart to France with A Rocha)(sad for us, good for them). I particularly enjoy the involvement from the wonderful theology students from Trinity College. My own faith-life journey has felt a little lost at times (I have lots of ‘wilderness days’!). Five or six of us meet up most Wednesday mornings at 7.30am for “Bloke’s Prayer”… and it’s something which has proved to be absolutely brilliant – definitely not to be missed if at all possible. I’ve also been ‘chairing’ Saint Stephen’s Re-Ordering Group over the past year or so – stimulating, exciting and frustrating!
HEALTH:
My health has been pretty good this year (lungs/heart annual check was fine)… apart from the normal ageing process! My foot and leg issues now seem pretty much under control/sorted (well, almost – sadly, I had to drop out of the volunteering at the Glastonbury Festival Church Tent because of recurring foot issues). My teeth continue to fall out; my back feels ‘delicate’ most mornings when I first wake (but settles down); my hearing is deteriorating (I have hearing aids, but rarely use them – must bite the bullet); I take tablets for my atrial fibrillation; I take eye drops to deter my glaucoma; and I have a suspicion that my left hip might need replacing over the next year or so!! But, hey, I feel pretty fit, I’m very active and I continue to walk on a daily basis.
OTHER STUFF:
1. I continue to serve on the PCC of Saint Stephen’s church. I chair a group looking into the practicalities of re-ordering the Grade I Listed Building – which is proving to be both frustrating and illuminating.

2. We continue to be a no-car household… and use a local car club very occasionally, as we see the ‘need’.

3. I’ve attended various demonstrations over the past year relating to Climate Change and the People’s Vote.

4. I’ve been a volunteer with the wonderful B.Friend organisation since March (https://www.bridgesforcommunities.com/programmes/b-friend) and have been meeting with a 20 year-old asylum-seeker from Afghanistan three or four times a month. Humbling work.

5. I’ve also been volunteering at the YMCA/The Wing most Thursday evenings for the past year or so – helping to prepare food (but mostly washing up!) for some of young people staying there.

 
I love reflecting back on the things that have happened over the previous twelve months and, each year, it’s a reminder that there WILL be some very special things that they will happen in the coming year – even though, at this moment, I don’t know what these will be. Who’d have thought, for example, that ‘urban sketching’ (and the friends I’ve made through doing it) would have become such an important (and hugely enjoyable) part of my life? Extraordinary television programmes (Seven Worlds, One Planet; His Dark Materials); amazing live performances; wonderful books or films. Clearly, I’m also aware that there will inevitably be some sad stuff too… and perhaps challenges we feel ill-equipped to face. In such times, families and friendships will, once again, see us through.   

For us as a family, it’s been another very good year… and we continue to count our blessings.

I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and peaceful 2020!

december 2019 books…

I’ve read 94 books this year, for goodness sake (I know)… I blame this on the fact that we have our lovely local bookshop, Storysmith Books, a mere 500ft from our front door!
Girl, Balancing (Helen Dunmore): This book, published in 2018 – a year after her death – is a collection of short stories. It came about as a result of a conversation with her son in November 2016 (when Dunmore was already very unwell) regarding the management of her literary estate after her death. She wondered about the possibility of putting together a number of short stories – she’d written a number (never published) over the previous 20 years or so – and, after her death, her family duly edited the collection (not a simple task). Most of the stories are written in the first person and I frequently found myself reading a story through the eyes of a woman – only to discover when the character was male… and vice versa! I found the resulting book rather lovely and often quite moving - invariably focussing on the individual and with wonderful observation and sense of curiosity.
South And West (Joan Didion): I first came across Joan Didion’s writing some five years ago and think that this is the fourth book of hers I’ve read. I’ve found her an utterly compelling writer and love reading her observations and insights (from the time she was in her late 20s until the present day). She’s now 85 years old and no longer the elegant beauty of her younger days, but she’s still writes brilliantly (I loved her ‘A Year of Magical Thinking’ book, published in 2005). I particularly like her essays. This book is compiled from her field notes and essays dating back to the 1970s of her journeying through America’s ‘deep south’ with her husband… and is quite remarkable for its apparent ‘power of prediction’ and ends with her recollections on her ‘home State’ of California, compiled in 1976. She writes with an insightful frankness about the things she observes and the people she meets (and what they say). Wonderful observations of an America of 50 years ago. I particularly liked these descriptions: of the South being a “time warp: the Civil war was yesterday, but the 1960s is spoken of as if it were about three hundred years ago”; of being collected and taken to dinner by a successful southern businessman who “picked us up and there was the ubiquitous glass on the dashboard, the road glass, in this instance a martini; and of her walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, wearing her first pair of high-heeled shoes (they were 3” heels!). A fascinating book.  
The Last Love Song (Tracy Daugherty): I’m a great admirer of Joan Didion’s writing (see above!)(well, her non-fiction, observational stuff anyway) and so was easily tempted to buy this hardback for £2.50 from ‘The Last Bookshop’ (published in 2015). The book describes itself as ‘A Biography of Joan Didion’ but, actually, it’s a RIDICULOUSLY long, obsessively-researched account of Didion’s life – which left me with the very firm belief that Daugherty himself was worryingly over-obsessed by Didion (it runs to more than 700 pages – including well over 100 pages of notes and references)! Although I admire her as a writer, I’m not sure I’d get on with her in ‘real life’ (fine chance!). The book is also something of a biography of her late husband, writer John Gregory Dunne, and, to some degree, of their adopted daughter Quintana Roo Dunne who died in 2003. The memoir contains lots (and I means LOTS!) of background about Didion’s childhood, marriage and her development as a writer (including references to the frequently drug-induced Hollywood/political world of California in the 1960s/70s and Dunne’s/Didion’s worrying tendency of ‘farming out’ their daughter, when she young, to parents, housekeepers, PAs, friends to enable to sustain their own whirlwind lifestyles). An interesting, but ultimately irritating book. I found it excessively (and needlessly) long – with the author apparently determined to show off just how many people he’d interviewed and how many background books he’d read in producing this ‘masterpiece’. Frankly, I was pleased when I’d finished it!   
Little Boy (Lawrence Ferlinghetti): I’m rather embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t come across Ferlinghetti before this (he’s an American writer, poet, painter, social activist, publisher – including many of the Beat poets - and bookseller – but you probably knew that!). This short book (some 190 pages long) was published early in 2019, when he was 99 (he’s still going strong, aged 100), and it constitutes something of a novel-cum-memoir – wisdom, ramblings and reflections. No chapters, just a flow of writing… and virtually all of it unpunctuated. Very much ‘stream of consciousness’ stuff and fascinating for the breadth of history and for the wide range of subjects covered. Despite its lack of punctuation, I found myself frequently reading it aloud – it’s quite poetic in character. A fascinating, rewarding (almost magical) book – despite, for me, the frustrations of not having a chapter end or even full stop at the end of a sentence to help determine when to stop reading!
That's it for 2019!

the people’s government?

Yes, the ‘people’ have spoken. Sadly, under the present ridiculous first-past-the-post voting system, this is what constitutes democracy.
But, under such a system, my voice is not heard. It doesn’t count.
Yes, one might say that people whose voices haven’t been listened to in the past, have now had their voices heard. Sadly, I fail to understand how such people believe that Mr Johnson is the answer to their prayers… but what do I know?
Perhaps, at the next General Election, I’ll be part of a group of people who feel passionately that THEIR voices haven’t been listened to… and suddenly, at long last, have their voices heard?
I live in hope.

So, after 9 years of abject Conservative government (my personal view, of course!) and abject Opposition from the Labour Party (ditto), we now find ourselves with the Tories re-elected with their largest majority since 1987.

It was billed by some as the most important election of our lifetime… and I think that’s probably true. The sad fact remains that one in three (yes, a third of the electorate) chose NOT to vote… and, of course, why would any winning Party choose to change a voting system that clearly worked for them?

Despite everything, I’m determined to try to be positive:

a) Who knows, this election might really be the time when one-nation conservatism genuinely comes to the fore and the Party reveals a compassionate side?
b) Who knows, this election might really be the time when Momentum ceases to have such decisive influence on Labour Party policies… and that a wise, charismatic Labour Leader emerges to take the Party forward.
c) Who knows, this election might really be the time when individual MPs from all Parties come together in an urgent ‘Green Alliance’ for the sake of the environment (and other stuff) for the common good?

I desperately longed for a ‘hung parliament’ in the perhaps naïve hope that all political Parties would finally realise that they needed to work together (I was opposed to a General Election in the first place). I desperately didn’t want Brexit to happen, but now it seems that I’ll just have to accept the inevitable (even though there were more people who voted for pro-Remain Parties than who voted for the Tory and Brexit Parties)…

So, yes, today I’m feeling close despair.
I’m feeling very sad.
Tomorrow is another day and bitterness is a debilitating and ugly force.
But it’s difficult.

so long, my son…

Today, I saw what will almost certainly be my film of the year at the Watershed: Xiaoshuai Wang’s “So Long, My Son”. It’s a wrenching family saga spanning three decades that highlights the emotional history and trauma of China’s one-child policy (which wasn't fully abandoned until 2015) and the Cultural Revolution. A couple’s young son dies suddenly in a tragic accident. Their lives are understandably shattered, but their pain is made even worse by the memory of the mother having been pregnant (while their son was still alive) with a second ‘illicit’ child and being forced to have an abortion by the authorities. The actors playing the parts of the couple, Yaojun (Wang Jingchun) and Liyun (Yong Mei) are absolutely brilliant – both incredibly moving performances.

Their best friends are fellow factory workers (and they also have a son - who witnessed the death of Yaojun and Liyun’s son’s death), but the wife, a party-zealot, is actually the person responsible for dragging Liyun off to the hospital for the abortion.

The grieving Yaojun and Liyun end up leaving their factory jobs and moving away from their friends to a remote coastal town…
I don’t want give away too much of the storyline, so I think I’ll leave it there.

In simple terms, the film provides an incredibly powerful and poignant commentary on China’s one-child policy and on the Cultural Revolution itself – the latter of which is highlighted towards the end of the film when Yaojun and Liyun return to their hometown (which in the intervening time has been transformed by glitzy new high-rise buildings and advertising hoardings of the western world). There’s a strong sense of injustice and the growing rift between the rich and the poor… and also a sense that people have been somewhat overwhelmed by the speed of change (and maybe even a nostalgic desire to want to ‘turn back the clock’).

It’s a very long film (3hours 5mins – my second ‘over-3 hours’ film in less than a month!) – but absolutely justified in my view, given the 1980s to the present day time period. It’s also a film which ‘unfolds’ – it took me some time to appreciate that the story wasn’t being told in a linear or chronological way, but more by way of flashbacks and ‘flashforwards’ (and done very effectively too).

I thought the film was simply stunning. The performances; the poetry; the pace; the cinematography; the direction… and, of course, the story itself.
An inspiring masterpiece.
PS: On a lighter note, the Watershed has a noticeboard for 'audience postcard comment' on the films its screening. Given that the film IS very long (just over 3hours) and, bearing in mind its title, I thought the scrawled "So Long..." comment was quite funny!

despairing of politics…

Look, at my age*, I know that my voice counts for nothing (oh, how I wish the same could have been said of all those other ‘old’ people who were allowed to significantly influence the outcome of the 2016 Referendum!).
I no longer matter (well, at least that’s how I feel)… in 10 years’ time I may no longer be around.
But, in 10 years’ time, all my six grandchildren will be eligible to vote.
Sadly, I fear for what our nation might have become by 2030.
Actually, it’s more than fear…
It’s despair.

We have become a nation dominated by bitterness and division (surely the most divided in my lifetime) – largely as a result of the farcical (in my view) decision to hold an ill-defined referendum on EU membership (to placate Mr Cameron's divided Conservative Party). Home Office figures show there has been a sharp increase in racially and religiously motivated hate crime since the 2016 EU referendum. Where the UK used to be regarded as a beacon for stability, we have now become something of a laughing stock around the world.

Two days from now, the UK electorate will have cast their votes and, as things stand (if you believe opinion polls – but, these days, who does?), it would appear that the Tories will be forming the next government with a parliamentary majority of perhaps anything from 20-70 seats?

They will be introducing (virtually unopposed) measures that will include a speedy no-deal Brexit (after going through vague motions of trying to negotiate a last-minute deal with the EU and, of course, failing) together with lots of policies that will benefit the ‘haves’ against the ‘have-nots’. The pre-election ‘promises’ will no doubt be ‘clarified’, but are unlikely to prevent the ongoing privatisation of the NHS, the continuing deterioration of public services and the like.
In Scotland, the SNP is likely to see that the only way for them to remain in the EU is to opt for independence. The Tory UK government will publicly wring its hands at such a prospect, but privately punch the air in celebration (because it will serve only to increase their own power in Westminster).

After nearly a decade in Opposition (and at a time when it should have been only too easy to win arguments against a succession of weak Tory governments), the Labour Party has abjectly failed in its task. There are lots of intelligent, gifted politicians (of all parties) who have the experience and desire to change things for the ‘common good’, but their voices are lost behind Political Party smokescreens. They count for nothing.

Sadly, our political system does not work. Democracy is something of a farce. As things stand, given our ridiculous first-past-the-post electoral process (and where I happen to live), my vote doesn’t count. And, of course, any Party in power certainly won’t want to change a system that ‘works for them’!
Sadly, there seems very little prospect of things changing over the next 5 (or even 10) years.

Even if my vote did count, any chance that my own MP would be able to influence her Party’s political stance on individual issues is something of a pipedream, so what chance do I have? At the same time, we have right-wing biased newspapers/media in this country (and, sadly, I now also feel unable to trust the impartiality of the BBC).

So, like many people, I’m left feeling utterly isolated… and as if I live in a separate ‘virtual’ world where 95% of all my friends have similar views to my own… and yet, there’s clearly another virtual world out there that thinks completely differently… and, frustratingly, that’s the one that counts.

So, at a time when the Climate Change Crisis should be at the very TOP of its agenda, we’re likely to have a new Tory government who will frankly be paying little more than ‘lip service’ to the environment and are far more focussed on cutting taxes (at a time, in my view, when we need to increase taxes to help pay for the NHS, education, mental health, welfare and other ailing public services). I could give you a long list of lies and concerns relating to statements from Tory ministers (although other Parties are hardly innocent bystanders)… but I won’t bother (unless pressed to do so!).

In a recent article in the New York Times (entitled “Britain’s Dirty Election”), one voter admitted that she “was voting for Boris Johnson precisely because he is a proven liar. It shows, she said, ‘he’s human’”.
THERE ARE NO WORDS.

So, yes, I despair. I despair for my lovely, intelligent, articulate children… and I despair for their children (and their children). In 10 years’ time, when my grandchildren can vote (some of them will actually be able to vote within the next 5 years… and who knows, the voting age might have even been reduced to 16 before then?), they will find that their opportunity to influence a world that they love and feel passionately about is in fact absolutely tiny. I can only hope that they will be able to find and encourage others who have similar passions and beliefs…

I live in hope. x
Photo: from Antony Gormley’s “Blind Light” exhibition at the Hayward Gallery, 2007.
PS: * I must stress that I have a number of very lovely friends who are ‘somewhat older than me’… and who remain VERY active and resourceful and who contribute brilliantly to making all our lives worth living… so apologies for the rather negative ‘spin’ regarding my own ‘aged’ status! They’ll probably never forgive me!