july-august 2019 books…

The Paper Moon (Andrea Camilleri): I’m trying to restrict my Montalbano reading to one book a month (in fact, I think I’ve only got one other book left on my bedside table after this)! I really love the stories – always clever, intriguing plots (set against a backdrop of Sicilian corruption, vendettas, sunshine, delicious food, beautiful women and humour) but also for Montalbano’s endearing, almost shambolic, attitude to his life as a crime-fighter. This story is set against a gruesome murder of a man (shot in the face from point-blank range), two evasive beautiful women, dirty cocaine and dead politicians. Montalbano is also plagued by self-doubt (is he getting too old for all this?). One of my favourite bits of the story was about him reflecting on (and deploring) the very idea of any policemen needed to make notes in order to solve crimes (he’s never done such a thing in his entire career) and, so, when he finds himself struggling to remember key details or take an overview of matters, decides to write himself a letter pointing out the particular pieces of evidence that he feels might prove useful to him! As ever, Stephen Sartarelli’s translation captures the essence of things perfectly.
A Shepherd’s Life (WH Hudson): First published in 1910, this book is essentially about one man… named Caleb Bawcombe, a shepherd, whose flocks grazed the Wiltshire, Hampshire and Dorset borders at the turn of the (19^th/20^th) century. And yet it’s also a story of poachers, gypsies, sheepdogs, farmers, landowners and labourers (with some accounts dating back to the 1830s from people Hudson spoke to who’d been inhabitants of the some of the villages during their childhoods. A magical, humble record of rural life in southern England from an age gone by – a time of deprivation, hunger and poverty (bringing up a large family on six shillings a week)… but also a time of few comforts, simple living and, of course, picturesque landscape. I really enjoyed this beautiful, gentle book.
Morning (Allan Jenkins): My lovely friend Mags recently gave me this book. The author, like me, is an early riser (and, unlike me, regularly does a little light gardening at 5am in soft light!). The book’s cover contains the following words from the author: “This is my manifesto for morning. There is an energy in the earlier hours, an awareness I enjoy. In today’s world we tend to wake as late as we can, timed to when we have to work. But we don’t need to chase the day”. The book, amongst other things, gives a monthly diary covering a whole year (with Jenkins’ own diary extracts)… the sounds, the routines, the observations, the reflections, the opportunities do stuff. He also ‘talks’ to a number of other early risers who are asked to reply to a standard set of questions. Not surprisingly, perhaps, they all talk incredibly positively about this magical, ‘bonus time’ of the day (in the same way I frequently find myself doing). A really beautiful, gentle and empowering book.
Under The Bright Wings (Peter Harris): Good friends of ours have a long-established association with A Rocha (an international network of environmental organisations with a Christian ethos) and are soon to depart Bristol to live and work in Nice for the organisation. Although I was very aware of A Rocha, I realised that I had only limited knowledge of the extent of their work. Peter Harris (then a curate on Merseyside) and his wife Miranda (and their three young children) set up the first A Rocha in the Algarve, Portugal in 1983/4. The book provides frank (and frequently funny) descriptions of their early days – struggling for finance, recognition, acceptance by the local community etc – as they sought to establish a community that was true both to their Christian beliefs and to their concern for the environment (very much harder in practice than theory). Clearly, an awful lot has changed since this book was first published (in 1993) and A Rocha is now an established worldwide organisation at the forefront of environmental projects and campaigns. They were clearly way ahead of their time. Fascinating and challenging. From small beginnings…
Go Ahead In The Rain (Hanif Abdurraqib): I don’t really get hip-hop or rap but have realised that, over the years, it’s become (or was?) an important, meaningful outlet for huge numbers of people… and so feel that I need to try to appreciate it more. Perhaps my other problem is that I frequently don’t understand, or even hear(!), the lyrics properly (some have actually described it as “mumble rap”). Having said that, I was hugely taken by Stormzy’s ‘set’ at Glastonbury this summer and his ability to communicate a wide range of issues and concerns through music (maybe it’s easier to ‘hear’ the message when you can actually watch the performers?). At the end of last year, I read a book about hip-hop band Wu-Tang Clan – which I found both fascinating and helpful. So, this book about the band called ‘A Tribe Called Quest’ (formed in 1985) is another attempt to educate myself musically (I’d seen the music journalist in The Guardian list the book as one of his top ten) – and it contains various cross-references between the two group. The author, Hanif Abdurraqib, is “an obsessive fan” who has followed the collective/band for 30 years and the book is a mix of autobiography, social history and slightly fanatical musical detail - although this also included references to Leonard Cohen+Marianne and also Cohen’s death coinciding with Trump’s election (Abdurraqib and I both despair about Trump!). I know some of the Tribe’s music and I like much of its jazzy, instrumental setting (blimey, that sounds SO pretentious doesn’t it!), but, frankly, I do struggle. I recall reading a couple of pages full of music references to other artists/bands/collectives and realising that I hadn’t heard of a single one of them! But, hey, the book’s very well-written and informative. The Tribe have been a hugely important part of Abdurraqib’s life and this book reflects this rather beautifully. I have to say that, by the end, he had won me over.

marianne and leonard: words of love…

I went along to the Watershed yesterday afternoon to see Nick Broomfield’s “Marianne+Leonard: Words of Love”. It tells the beautiful, yet sad, love story between musician Leonard Cohen and Marianne Ihlen. They first met on the Greek island of Hydra in the early 1960s and became inseparable.
The film takes the form of a documentary, starting with the young struggling Cohen on the island of Hydra, amongst a community of foreign artists, writers and musicians, with dreams of becoming an author. Here, he meets Ihlen (13 years older than him) – alone with her young son, after a failed marriage – who ultimately played a huge role in transforming Cohen from a struggling novelist and poet into the influential singer and songwriter he became (with a little additional help from Judy Collins).
Cohen – in his younger days, at least – was a selfish, self-centred, self-obsessed (almost narcissistic?) man who clearly felt he was something of God’s gift to women (and huge numbers of women seemed to agree!)… but also a complex man who struggled with depression and drugs.
The film contains footage of him talking about his time with Marianne… revealing how, at first, he spent six months of the year in Hydra with Ihlen, and the other six months in Montreal. Then it was four months a year, then two months, then two weeks as his career took off. Marianne Ihlen (unlike “Suzanne”, incidentally) emerges as someone of enormous gentleness and dignity, even coming to one of the huge concerts that Cohen did in his old age when he was enjoying a huge second wave of popularity.

The album “Songs of Leonard Cohen” (1967) was/is one of my all-time favourites (but, obviously, Joni Mitchell is the singer/songwriter I worship!) – featuring the iconic tracks ‘So Long, Marianne’ and ‘Suzanne’… at the time (and since!), some people couldn’t understand why I absolutely loved songs that were so bleak. Yes, I loved Cohen’s poetry, his voice… and his bleakness.

The relationship between Marianne and Leonard lasted some 8 years (off and on) and their friendship until their deaths (she died in July 2016 and he died just four months later). When he was advised of her impending death, Cohen sent her this poignant message:
“And you know that I’ve always loved you for your beauty and your wisdom, but I don’t need to say anything more about that because you know all about that. But now, I just want to wish you a very good journey. Goodbye old friend. Endless love, see you down the road”.

Clearly, for me, the music is a nostalgic reminder of my student days in Oxford from 1967 onwards… and of songs that I keep returning to, even more than 50 years later.

This isn’t a great film, but it does provide a vivid snapshot of the early 1960s and of a complicated, tender love story.

very first test match…

During the course of my life, I’ve watched an awful lot of cricket… BUT, ridiculously, I’d never ever been to a Test Match (I know).
This all changed on Thursday, when my wonderful brother treated me to a day at Edgbaston. And it wasn’t just any old Test Match – it was the first day of the first Ashes Test against Australia.
Very, very special.
We had a wonderful day. Alan lives just a short bus ride and 20 minute walk from the ground. We arrived there early “for the full experience” (even though, somewhat annoyingly, we and other early spectators were kept queuing outside the ground well beyond the advertised ‘gates open’ times). Alan provided the match tickets, all the food (prepared in advance, of course)… and I was left merely to buy the beer at the bar (and inadvertently bought two pints of cider for our ‘first round of the day’!! Duh). I think we each had four pints during the course of the day… which paled to insignificance compared with the group of Aussies seated alongside us – who were constantly passing us on their way to the bar for re-fills – and must have consumed much more than a dozen pints each!

Of course, as you might imagine, both Alan and I had spent the previous week or so checking out weather forecasts – as we know only too well, even the best laid plans can go horribly wrong. In my glass half-full way (and given the pretty gloomy advance weather predictions), part of me was convinced that the day would be a complete wash-out... and the forecast given out the day before the start pointed to a 50% chance of rain and some of it heavy (there were times that I’d have gladly accepted seeing ANY play, however brief).

In the event, we were incredibly lucky – a full day’s play (much of it in bright sunshine) with only 20 minutes lost to a brief light shower, which they were able to make up at the end of the day’s play.
There’s something quite magical about watching a sporting occasion when the ground is full to capacity… with expectations and emotions running high, people in fancy dress, the cricket pitch looking perfect, all the banter (most of it light-hearted), the noise and the entire ground feeling akin to an arena for gladiatorial combat.
In the event, it proved to be an absolutely fascinating day’s play. Australia won the toss and elected to bat – despite probably being very tempted to bowl first, given the cloudy conditions. England got off to a wonderful start and took three wickets before lunch and followed this up by reducing Australia to 122-8 (largely thanks to Stuart Broad’s 5-86 and despite bowler Anderson having to leave the field after only 4 overs due injury)… before a brilliant recovery, led by former captain Steve Smith (who ended up scoring a wonderful 144 runs), to finish on 284 all out.  The England openers survived the final two overs to finish the day 10-0.
It was a truly memorable, magical day.
We got home feeling physically drained after watching a compelling day’s play. We’d just WATCHED for goodness sake… we hadn’t bowled 37 overs or spent five-and-a-half hours scoring a century… but we were happy just to relax and reflect on the day. The players and, no doubt, some spectators would be up the following day to do it all over again!
Photo: “Brothers in Arms”: taken by one of our Aussie ‘friends’ before the start of play.
PS: My greatest cricket experience HAD been attending the Oxford v Cambridge Varsity match (perhaps more than 20 years ago) at Lord’s. I’d been guest of a friend who was a long-standing member of Middlesex CC (and someone who appeared to ‘know’ everyone associated with both the club and ground). At lunchtime, he took me into the Old Pavilion and into the ‘home’ (England!) dressing room… and, from there, we walked down the stairs, through the famous Long Room, down the pavilion steps, on to the green, green turf and up to the hallowed cricket square itself. BUT, this was nothing compared to witnessing the first day of the first Test Match against the Aussies!

july 2019 books...

Wild Fire (Ann Cleeves): Feeling bereft… I’ve now finished the last of the eight-book Shetland series. A powerful, clever plot surrounding an English family who have moved to the island, eager to give their autistic son a better life… rumours, suspicion. What’s not to like? I liked how Cleeves managed to make gentle reference to people and events that had been part of earlier books. Beautifully crafted, hugely believable characters and a wonderful evocation of the islands and island life. I’m going to miss Jimmy Perez bigtime! A fitting end to a wonderful series of books. Will I be able to find a suitable replacement?
Take Nothing With You (Patrick Gale): Moira+I recently went to hear Patrick Gale talk engagingly about his latest book at the Tobacco Factory – duly supported by a rather beautiful cello accompaniment… which was entirely apt given that the novel is about a boy, an only child, leading a strange existence in a houseful of elderly adults, whose life dramatically changes under the spell of his cello teacher. The boy makes new friendships through music… but also learns harsh life lessons of love, survival and resilience. There are elements of the story that are almost autobiographical. Had he not become a writer, Gale might have been a musician (as a promising youngster he was selected to attend courses at the International Cello Centre, a residential school in the Scottish borders). Although, at times, I felt Gale was almost ‘showing-off’ his knowledge of the instrument, the intricate skills required to play the cello and the particular pieces of music that highlighted its beauty, he does tell a very warm and humane story rather impressively. Once again, reading one of Gale’s books provided me with a sense of being in the hands of a very skilled, accomplished writer. Will not, perhaps, emerge as one of my ‘books of the year’, but enjoyable and compelling nevertheless.
The Snack Thief (Andrea Camilleri): I managed to find THREE Inspector Montalbano books in the ‘Last Bookshop’ recently… and perhaps reading one of them a month will help make up for the grieving of having finished the last of Cleeves’s ‘Shetland’ books! As ever, Montalbano’s unique approach to Sicilian crime-fighting, government corruption and gastronomy wins the day for me.  Well as being an entertaining read (frequently, absurdly funny), this has a clever, complex and compelling storyline. Sad to learn of Camilleri’s death, aged 93, only a few days ago.
The Corset (Laura Purcell): Another book to be discussed in of my lovely Storysmith Book Group. It’s difficult to summarise this book – a compelling Victorian gothic crime mystery perhaps? The novel is told from the perspective of two individuals: Ruth Butterham, a 16-year-old seamstress, who stands accused of murdering her abusive mistress and Dorothea Truelove, a wealthy young heiress who combines good works (including visiting Ruth in prison) with the study of phrenology. As something of a crucial complication, Ruth believes she has supernatural powers. It’s a story of privilege and poverty and an evocative portrait of a society that punishes women who dare to contravene social norms (Ruth’s mother suffered appallingly for marrying against her family’s wishes and Dorothea wants to marry a policeman - unbeknownst to her father - rather than to move in fashionable society and ‘marry well’). At times, with all its cruelty and appalling working conditions, it felt a little reading newspaper reports of modern-day ‘slavery’. Apparently, it’s based to some degree on the case of a milliner and her daughter, who were hanged in 1762 for appalling mistreatment of one of their young apprentices. It took me some time to ‘get into the novel’ but, in the end, I found it rather spellbinding, sinister, very cleverly written and really quite gripping… *no spoilers* Was I utterly convinced by the ending? Well, yes and no… but it certainly left me pondering – which is never a bad thing! Can’t wait for the discussion!   
English Cricket (Neville Cardus): I handed over a load of my old cricket books to a very nice bookseller at Gloucestershire’s Cheltenham Cricket Festival last week and, because I rather like reading Neville Cardus waxing lyrical about the ‘old, innocent cricketing days of yesterday’, I took this book away with me. Published in 1945 and my copy had a fountain pen inscription on the inside cover: “Ron from Mary (Ann). 27 May 1947” which felt a little surreal – Ron and Mary being the names of my father and mother! The book outlines the broad history and development of the game, together with background, statistics and stories about some of its more prominent characters. I loved some of the posed/contrived action photographs of individual batsmen, bowlers and fielders. Having read a number Cardus’s books, there was very little that was particularly new, but it acted as a gentle reminder of cricket in different ages – games between ‘Gentlemen’ and ‘Players’; players of the mid-19^th century all wearing top hats; a time when all that seemed to matter was “fighting the good fight chivalrously and decisively”!). Predictably romantic, nostalgic and enjoyable.

trio de profundis…

A really excellent concert tonight given by Franziska Wientges (piano), Olivia Weissgerber (violin) and Chun Yin Pang (cello) performing works by Clara Schumann (Piano Trio op 17), Dmitri Shostakovich (Five Pieces for Violin, Cello and Piano) and Felix Mendelssohn (Piano Trio op 49). These three young, highly-talented musicians from the renowned Hanover University of Music, Drama and Media in Germany took time off from their studies to perform at Saint Stephen’s Church, Bristol as part of their first UK tour.
Engaging, energetic and compelling.

amélie, the musical … on stage at the old vic

Moira and I went along to the Old Vic this afternoon to see Mike Fentiman’s stage musical interpretation (written by Craig Lucas, with music by Daniel Messé) of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s classic 2001 film, starring the wonderful Audrey Tautou.
You probably know the ‘story’: It features a young French girl who helps strangers find love and happiness. Amélie is a waitress in a Parisian café and she sees it as her mission in life to right wrongs and improve the lives of her customers. But she proves rather less successful at bettering her own lot…
It just so happens that the film version is perhaps my all-time favourite film – I’ve watched it LOADS of times and absolutely adore it. So, you can imagine that I had somewhat mixed emotions at the prospect of seeing it performed on the stage… excitement mixed with a fear that it could all go horribly wrong!
How would they be able capture the magic of Paris? Would there be a terrific voice-over narrator similar to the film? Surely they wouldn’t be able to recreate all the scenes (or the wonderful characters)? They CERTAINLY wouldn’t dream of changing the iconic soundtrack, would they? How on earth would they find ANYONE to match Audrey Tautou?
Well, I for one, found it absolutely wonderful.

It’s a fast-moving production – featuring 36 songs which merge into each other rather effortlessly – with a cast of 16 incredibly talented performers who all act (multi-characters), sing and play instruments. Audrey Brisson plays Amélie and Danny Mac plays Nino, her mysterious friend.

The entire production is both inventive and impressive… and the music WAS entirely different to the film score (but utterly convincing and appropriate). Given the complexity of the original film, it was clearly impossible to recreate some of the scenes quite as effectively – and, indeed, some scenes had to be cut out and/or adapted. But the stage design was quite brilliant – with pianos instantly being transformed into shop display stands, photo kiosks into confessional stalls. At times, there’s almost a sense of circus – with Amélie being effortlessly transported from the stage into her upper floor apartment by way of rope. The actors use a puppet to convey the young Amélie – and quite beautifully played it is too. There’s a wonderful scene that features the garden gnome on its return from a tour of the world… and there’s also an audacious Elton John tribute song at the end of Act 1.
Hopefully, you’re getting a sense that I really enjoyed it?

Obviously, the biggest worry for me was the ‘leading lady’. No one would be able to replace Audrey Tautou for me… and YET, Audrey Brisson was something of a revelation. I thought she was absolutely wonderful! Apparently, our daughter Hannah thought I’d probably ‘fall in love’ with Brisson… and I think she was probably right! As well as convincingly looking and dressing like the Amélie in the film, Brisson also has a wonderful singing voice, an impressive athleticism (for nimbly jumping up on to upright pianos and being transported to her upper floor apartment, as you do) and a brilliantly expressive (and beautiful) face.

The audience loved it. I loved it. The sad thing is that its brief tour run at the Old Vic finishes on Saturday (20 July)… and I’m pretty sure that most of the tickets have already been sold. BUT, if you can get yourself a ticket (even if it’s one of those ‘standing tickets’), then I urge you to go.
PS: The ONE thing that spoilt things was the woman sitting immediately in front of me. She spent the ENTIRE performance leaning towards her adult daughter(?) and commenting on EVERYTHING that was happening on stage (or simply observations that had occurred to her in passing). Believe me, I came VERY close to letting her know my feelings!! Aaargh!!

 

cheltenham cricket festival, 2019…

I went to Cheltenham yesterday to watch day 3 (of 4) of Gloucestershire’s game against Leicestershire. It also gave me the opportunity of passing on a whole load of second-hand cricket books… although carrying them all to Temple Meads and then to the ground (amounting in total to a 70 minute walk) was something of a pain – literally!
It’s always fascinating travelling to a cricket match by train… you can spot a ‘supporter’ instantly (invariably male, grey-haired, aged, wearing a floppy hat, frequently wearing ill-fitting shorts, sun-tanned, carrying an old rucksack containing sandwiches, drink and newspaper etc)… and you join a line of them, making their gentle way from the station to the ground at 30 metres intervals. Maps are not required!
But I had a lovely day.
The setting, at Cheltenham College (despite, or because of, all its privileged associations), is quintessentially English and I spent the day simply watching the cricket, watching the people, sketching and consuming the odd glass of beer.
As a bonus, the cricket was pretty good too! Replying to Leicestershire’s 252 all out, Gloucestershire had started the day on 275-6 (having lost their last four wickets for something like 40 runs)… and there seemed every chance of the innings petering out tamely. But, actually, it was the complete opposite. The overnight batsmen, Jack Taylor and Benny Howell, added 157 runs – before Taylor was disappointingly bowled one short of his century. Gloucestershire ended the day declaring 252 runs ahead and going on to take two Leicestershire wickets for 78 runs.
So, a gentle day’s cricket in the sunshine.
During the course of the afternoon (especially in the hour immediately after lunch), I COULD have taken at least half a dozen photographs of aged cricket spectators slumped asleep in their seats, completely dead to the world… but I resisted the temptation! Had they seen Taylor’s dismissal? What about Bamber’s stumping at the end of the innings? Actually, they will invariably invent their own accounts of the day’s play… and that’s just fine!
Not very often that you see a side scoring over 500 runs in an innings in County Cricket these days… but I was there!
Photo: If you look closely, you might be able to spot the ball… the batsman’s advanced down the wicket (with the intention of hitting a six over long-on), missed it… and completely fooled the wicket-keeper, who’s also missed it!

bristol metropolitan orchestra plays mahler’s symphony no.5…

Last night, Moira and I went to the rather wonderful Clifton Cathedral to hear/see the Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra perform Gustav Mahler’s Symphony no.5 and extracts from Ethyl Smith’s ‘The Wreckers’.
Mahler’s fifth is probably my very favourite piece of classical music (quite possibly because I associate it with one of my favourite films, Visconti’s ‘Death in Venice’ – which I’ve watched SEVERAL times!), so I was particularly looking forward to the evening. As ever on such occasions, there’s always a fear that the performers won’t do the piece justice and that the evening will prove somewhat disappointing.
Well, I needn’t have worried. The Metropolitan Orchestra was superb!
There’s something rather quite intoxicating to hear a large orchestra in ‘full voice’ and this was the second time I’d heard the BMO perform (conductor: Michael Cobb; leader: Anneka Sutcliffe). The programme notes refer to the working backgrounds to several of its players – including anaesthetists, paediatric nurses, engineers and IT developers. My very good friend Ed (a retired teacher) plays the French Horn.
Their next concert will be at St George’s in Bristol on Saturday 16 November (Elgar’s ‘Cello Concerto’ and Stravinsky’s ‘Firebird Suite’).
A really excellent evening in the company of highly-talented performers.
Photo: Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra at Clifton Cathedral last night.
PS: Mention of 'Death in Venice'  (which starred Dirk Bogarde as Gustav von Aschenbach) brought to mind the postcard and comments I received from Bogarde in response to my letter to him in appreciation of his three volume set of biographies... I've just checked and found it tucked into one of his books, dated 8 October 1990. Blimey, that's getting on for 30 years ago!!

june-july 2019 books…

Cold Earth (Ann Cleeves): The penultimate book in the series (I’m already feeling a sense of grieving). As usual with Cleeves’s ‘Shetland’ books, I gobbled this one up in less than three days. Another clever, intriguing plot (centred around the discovery of a body after torrential rain had triggered a landslide). Even when the weather is pretty grim, the books reveal a wonderful ‘sense of place’ which I find utterly alluring. Excellent.
The Patience Of The Spider (Andrea Camilleri): I came across two more Montalbano books in ‘The Last Bookshop’ the other day, and here’s the first of them. Yes, I know, escapist stuff to avoid Trump, Brexit etc – but it’s helped a little! Yes, all somewhat predictable: Montalbano’s ongoing cynicism of authority and rule books, Sicily, sunshine, food, beautiful women, crazy characters, lots of humour… but also a pretty clever plot. The formula works for me!  
Optimism Over Despair (Noam Chomsky): I’ve blogged separately about this book so, rather than repeating myself, it’s probably easier to check out my blogpost, if you’re interested. Given my own current sense of desperation and hopelessness about what’s currently going on in our world, I came across the book in our wonderful local bookshop, Storysmith Books, and thought I definitely needed to read it! On the cover of Chomsky’s book were the following words: “We have two choices. We can be pessimistic, give up, and help ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can be optimistic, grasp the opportunities that surely exist, and maybe help make the world a better place”. In the event, although it’s an absolutely fascinating and thought-provoking book, it hardly addressed the matter of “Optimism Over Despair” at all and, ultimately, I was left feeling disappointed (and it relates to interviews conducted from late 2013 to early 2017, so hardly touches on the ‘Trump era’ at all – which, for many of us, has limited our reasons for optimism even further!).
Rounding The Mark (Andrea Camilleri): This is the second of my latest Montalbano books (comments as for the previous one above!). I think part of the attraction for me is that I could readily change places with him and sit on his veranda, drink a glass of wine and stare out across the sea. Amongst other things, the plot revolves around refugees making perilous journeys to Italy on overcrowded boats and, in particular, the trafficking of immigrant children. There was a sobering footnote at the end of the book which referred to depressing statistics on the illegal immigration of minors into Italy shown on a 2002 edition of ‘Panorama’ (ie. sobering for me that such issues had been continuing for such a long time)(the book’s English translation was first published in 2007). But, although some of the story contains such sinister references, it also includes the usual ‘farcical ingenuity’ (in the words of the New York Times critic) that I love.   
Climbing Days (Dan Richards): I freely admit that I’m petrified of heights… but I do love reading books about mountaineering and mountains! This is rather lovely, engaging, affectionate book was inspired by the author’s great-great-aunt Dorothy/Dorothea Pilley Richards (1894-1986), a prominent and pioneering mountaineer of the early 20th century (and coincidentally, a contemporary of fellow mountain-lover Nan Shepherd 1893-1981 – author of ‘The Living Mountain’, that I recently read). By chance, Dan Richards came across her 1935 memoir (also called ‘Climbing Days’) and this, in turn, led him on a journey to discover more about this rather remarkable lady. In some ways, the book has similarities with “Wrestliana” by Toby Litt (I read it earlier this year): Litt’s great-great-great-great grandfather had been a champion Cumberland and he decided to write about the man, his family and his sport. Dan Richards explores (in a gentle, wandering way) some of the places linked to Pilley, including the rather wonderful Pinnacle Club, Snowdonia, (formed in 1921 and the first climbing club founded by women for women alone), people who’d met Dorothy (or their relatives), mountain guides, her family and friends. She was obviously a very determined, independent lady who rebelled against the conventional, limiting, chaperoned roles frequently identified for women of the time. In 1928, she made the celebrated first ascent (with her husband Ivor Richards) of the north/north-west ridge of the Dent Blanche, Switzerland. Although the author never knew her, he re-traces some of Dorothy’s old destinations and routes (from her book and her diaries) – including actually climbing Dent Blanche for himself, via the ‘straightforward route’ – in what turns out to be an intimate pilgrimage of discovery of family history, of new friendships and of the restlessness of the human spirit. Beautifully and entertainingly written. I loved it.

optimism over despair…

"We have two choices. We can be pessimistic, give up, and help ensure that the worst will happen. Or we can be optimistic, grasp the opportunities that surely exist, and maybe help make the world a better place”.
The above words were on the cover of Noam Chomsky’s book “Optimism Over Despair”. Given my own current sense of desperation and hopelessness about what’s currently going on in our world, I (obviously) thought: This book is for me!

I’ve previously read various articles by Chomsky (born in 1928) and had also watched bits from a couple of his lectures on YouTube, but this was my first book of his. He is a hugely impressive man. The book was published in 2017 and represents his interviews with CJ Polychroniou from late 2013 to early 2017 (originally published in ‘Truthout’)(so barely touches Trump’s time as president).

Chomsky has been described as “America’s moral conscience” (even if, according to the book’s introduction, “he remains unknown to the majority of Americans”).
It’s an absolutely fascinating, thought-provoking book… BUT, in the end, I felt that I’d been hood-winked. I think I would probably have a good case under the Trades Description Act, 1968.
The book consists of 196 dense pages of text – essentially focussing on the USA. They provide insights into the consequences of capitalist globalisation. They analyse the state of the planet. They tell us how we got here. They explain the motivations of those on the world stage… BUT they do NOT inform us why we should feel optimistic rather than desperate. Indeed, the quote at the top of the page is the ONLY reference to ‘optimism over despair’ in the entire book… and it comes at the very end of the book (ie. the final paragraph of P196!) in response to the question: “Are you overall optimistic about the future of humanity, given the kind of creatures we are?”… and, in fact, the quote is not complete – because Chomsky added five more words at the end of it: “Not much of a choice”! In fact, this concluding chapter was written in February 2016 – nine months before Trump’s election – so who knows if he still thinks there’s a case for optimism today?
Did the book make me feel better informed about the ways of the world, unfettered corporate expansion, the effects of unmitigated climate change, illegal wars? Yes, of course I did.
Did the book make me feel less desperate and more optimistic? Absolutely not (indeed quite the reverse – and it was published before Trump had settled into his new ‘role’ and before the ramifications of Brexit here in the UK had begun to unfold).

It would be foolhardy of me to try to summarise Chomsky’s views on the incredibly wide-ranging number of issues covered in the book, but I’ll leave you with just a few extracts (apologies for their great length, but they include some interesting stuff in my view!):

·         “It is well established that electoral campaigns are designed so as to marginalise issues and focus on personalities, rhetorical style, body language and the like. And there are good reasons. Party managers read polls and are well aware that on a host of major issues, both parties are well to the right of the population – not surprisingly; they are, after all, business parties”.

·         “A recent IMF study attributes the profits of the big banks almost entirely to the implicit government insurance policy (‘too big to fail’), not just the widely publicised bailouts but access to cheap credit, favourable ratings because of state guarantee, and much else”.
·         “But the big banks, which were responsible for the latest crisis, are bigger and richer than ever. Corporate profits are breaking records, wealth beyond the dreams of avarice is accumulating among those who count, and labour is severely weakened by union busting and ‘growing worker insecurity’, to borrow the term Alan Greenspan used in explaining the grand success of the economy he managed, when he was still ‘Sir Alan’ – perhaps the greatest economist since Adam Smith, before the collapse of the structure he had administered, along with its intellectual foundations. So what is there to complain about?”.
·         “JP Morgan Chase has just been fined $13billion (half of it tax-deductible) for what should be regarded as criminal behaviour in fraudulent mortgage schemes, from which the usual victims suffer under hopeless burdens of debt… The inspector-general of the US government bailout programme, Neil Barofsky, pointed out that it was officially a legislative bargain: the banks that were the culprits were to be bailed out, and their victims, people losing their homes, were to be given some limited protection and support. As he explains, only the first part of the bargain was seriously honoured, and the plan became a ‘giveaway to Wall Street executives’ – to the surprise of no one who understands ‘really existing capitalism’. The list goes on”.
·         “Democrats have to face the fact that for forty years they have pretty much abandoned whatever commitment they had to working people”.
·         (Reference to Goldman Sachs ‘surging stock price’ following Trump’s election and…): “Other big gainers are energy corporations, health insurers, and construction firms, all expecting huge profits from the administration’s announced plans. These include Paul Ryan-style fiscal programme of tax cuts for the rich and corporations, increased military spending, turning the health system over even more to insurance companies with predictable consequences, taxpayer largesse for a privatised form of credit-based infrastructure development, and other ‘normal Republican’ gifts to wealth and privilege at taxpayer expense. Rather plausibly, economist Larry Summers describes the fiscal programme as ‘the most misguided set of tax changes in US history which will massively favour the top 1% of income earners, threaten an explosive rise in federal debt, complicate the tax code and do little if anything to spur growth’. But great news for those who matter”.
·         “Prestigious and influential positions in Congress used to be granted to on the basis of seniority and perceived achievement. Now they are basically bought, which drives congressional representatives even deeper into the pockets of the rich. And the Supreme Court decisions have accelerated the process”.
·         “On November 8 (2016), the most powerful country in world history, which will set its stamp on what comes next, had an election. The outcome placed total control of the government – executive, Congress, the Supreme Court – in the hands of the Republican Party, which has become the most dangerous organisation in world history… The party is dedicated to racing as rapidly as possible to destruction of organised human life… The winning candidate, now president-elect, calls for rapid increase in use of fossil fuels, including coal; dismantling of regulations; rejection of help to developing countries that are seeking to move to sustainable energy; and, in general, racing to the cliff as fast as possible”.
·         “One of the difficulties in raising public concern over the very severe threats of global warming is that 40% of the US population does not see why it is a problem, since Christ is returning in a few decades”.
·         “It is an astonishing fact about the current era that in the most powerful country in world history, with a high level of education and privilege, one of the two political parties virtually denies the well-established facts about anthropogenic climate change. In the primary debates for the 2016 election, every single Republican candidate was a climate change denier, with one exception, John Kasich – the ‘rational moderate’ – who said it may be happening but we shouldn’t do anything about it”.
·         “Concentration of wealth leads naturally to concentration of power, which in turn translates to legislation favouring interests of the rich and powerful and thereby increasing even further the concentration of power and wealth… It’s a vicious cycle in constant progress. The state is there to provide security and support to the interests of the privileged and powerful sectors of society, while the rest of the population is left to experience the brutal reality of capitalism. Socialism for the rich, capitalism for the poor”.
·         “Trump supporters include much of the white working-class. One can understand their anger and frustration, and why Trump’s rhetoric might appeal to them. But they are betting on the wrong horse. His policy proposals – to the limited extent that they are coherent – not only do not seriously address their legitimate concerns but would be quite harmful to them. And not just to them”.
·         “Since oppression and repression exist, they are reflections of human nature. The same is true of sympathy, solidarity, kindness, and concern for others – and for some great figures, like Adam Smith, these were essential properties of humans. The task for social policy is to design the ways we live and the institutional and cultural structure of our lives so as to favour the benign and to suppress the harsh and destructive aspects of our fundamental nature”.
·         “There are two grim shadows that loom over everything that we consider: environmental catastrophe and nuclear war, the latter threat much under-estimated, in my view”.
Much food for thought… and very little of it feeling suitable for consumption.

stormzy at glastonbury…

The ability to convey powerful messages that resonate in these hugely difficult times - when the current world of politics, war and greed seems SO different from so many of our own desires and expectations – is an amazing gift.  
I found watching Stormzy at Glastonbury (on the tv!) utterly mesmerising.
Compelling music, charismatic performance, stunning staging and infectious energy. But what I found most forceful and impressive was the ability for music and words to convey massively important messages to the people-in-power… to condemn the issues that allowed Grenfell to happen (and shaming those responsible for allowing them to happen)… for the London Bridge victims (and those who failed to spot the warnings)… for the Windrush shaming farce… speak out about the injustice of young black kids being criminalised in a biased and disproportionate justice systemto speak out about the "injustice of young black kids being criminalised and disproportionate justice system" (in David Lammy’s words)… and so it continues.
A rapper who has become an icon.
An amazing example of someone who was a self-confessed “very naughty child, on the verge of being expelled from school”, but who found he could do well in exams… and discovered that A Levels showed him that in life “you need work ethic”. He’s intelligent, hugely articulate and has become the voice of so many people who feel that they don’t have a voice… (and, as a bonus, it seems that he’s a really nice bloke… and a man of faith).
Are you listening UK politicians?
Are you listening world?
PS: He also got the crowd to advise the world what they thought of Boris Johnson!
PPS: Check this out: “Blinded by your Grace: Part 2”

 

diego maradona...

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Asif Kapadia’s film “Diego Maradona”. It wasn’t that I was particularly motivated to see a film about a famous footballer, more about avoiding UK politics for a couple of hours…
Obviously, I knew the ‘story’ – brilliant, charismatic, star footballer (we’ll ignore the ‘Hand of God’!) emerging from background of poverty… goes on to captain the Argentine World Cup-winning team and also inspire an ailing Italian football team (Napoli) into becoming league champions (twice)… and, of course, in the process of his growing fame and fortune, he also developed a reputation for being a womaniser, for links with the local ‘mafia’ gang and for hard drugs (which, it seems, the club knew about but ridiculously managed to get other players to donate urine samples on his behalf)(the drug-monitoring rules were obviously pretty ‘basic’ in the 1980s!).
There’s absolutely no doubt that Maradona was an incredibly gifted footballer and much of the football footage shows him at his most mesmerising. He joined Naples football club in 1984; although they had fanatical support, they had massively underachieved and had never won a major trophy. Naples itself was an utterly dysfunctional city. Amazingly, Maradona quickly led the club to their first ever title. The man was duly hailed as a hero… there’s a wonderful clip in the film when Napoli won the league and the fans in the city went wild with delight: someone had hung a large banner outside one of cemeteries, saying (in Italian, obviously!): “You Don’t Know What You Missed!”. However, as the magic later faded, he became a virtual prisoner in the city as he lapsed into drug-taking and despair. His ultimate humiliation probably came when Argentina knocked Italy out of the 1990 World Cup (on penalties) in, of all places, Napoli – and, before the match, Maradona had pleaded with the Napoli supporters to back Argentina!
It felt a bit like watching a documentary about George Best – a hugely-gifted footballer who was readily knocked off the rails by the lure of money, sex, drugs and alcohol.
It was rather depressing to watch images of this footballing idol change from lithe athlete to an over-weight, bloated, incoherent has-been (ok, he’s endeavoured to ‘repair’ himself over recent years, but not altogether successfully).
If you have a fascination in football, I feel sure you’ll find this an interesting film (although I think the bloke sitting behind me actually fell asleep!).
Towards the end of the film, someone described Maradona thus:
“Rebel. Cheat. Hero. God.”
I can’t improve on that.

more june 2019 books…

Thin Air (Ann Cleeves): I’m fast running out of ‘Shetland’ stories (this is the sixth – which means I’ve only got two more to go!). As usual, despite the books being nearly 400 pages in length, I gobbled it up in less than three days. Yes, some might regard such crime novels as ‘escapist’ reading material, but I really do love the books – the storylines, the landscape, the culture and the characters (especially Jimmy Perez). This book was no exception - another intriguing plot (a wedding guest from London disappears without trace or explanation and various references to stories about the ghost of a 10 year-old girl who died in 1930) and I love the linking narratives that run throughout the series. Excellent.
Conversations With Friends (Sally Rooney): This is my second Rooney novel (it’s actually HER first one, but I always seem to read stuff out of order). It’s about relationships – specifically between four ‘friends’ (some more intimate than others) – seen through the eyes of a 21 year-old woman (bright/student/poetry-performer). Of course, these relationships are somewhat complicated (it would have been a pretty boring book otherwise): misunderstandings, vulnerabilities, misinterpreted remarks, nuanced glances (are there such things?), witty conversations, sex (I’m getting old!), disintegrating friendships, self-destructive actions, walking on eggshells… you get the general idea. Actually, I didn’t really warm to any of the main protagonists, but Rooney’s writing style is quite brilliant (sharp, clever and wonderfully observed)… and I found the story surprisingly compelling. Very impressive.    
Washington Black (Esi Edugyan): This is our local bookshop’s Book Group’s latest book (my second since I joined). The novel tells the story of 11-year-old slave (Washington Black) on a Barbados sugar plantation in the 19th century. The plot is bizarre (to put it mildly): Black’s English master is obsessed with developing a machine that can fly; a man gets killed; the master and Black flee to the Arctic (as you do) - with Black then travelling to Nova Scotia, London, Amsterdam and Morocco… oh, and there’s also family history, hideous injuries, art, a woman, a bounty-hunter, zoology… and lots of stuff about racism and slavery. Although the book doesn’t say so, Edugyan (in an interview) indicated that she’d come across the story of a Victorian Englishman who’d been shipwrecked, presumed dead, off the coast of South America; his mother refused to believe he was dead (rumours about him turning up in Australia) so she sent a member of her household (a former slave) off to try and find him… and that had been the inspiration of this book. The novel was shortlisted the 2018 Man Booker Prize and so I was full of high expectations. Frankly, I was pretty disappointed. Although Edugyan is an excellent writer, I found the twists and turns in the storyline (as well as the ‘plot’ itself) ridiculously absurd, irritatingly fanciful, hugely unconvincing and, to my mind, with far, far too many strands. The book felt a bit like a cross between Jules Verne, Robinson Crusoe, Indiana Jones and Roots. Having subsequently read all the words of praise from a multitude of critics (eg. “astonishing”, “magnificent”, “terrifically exciting”, “nothing short of a masterpiece”), I realise that I’m probably the only person in the world who wasn’t completely captivated by the book… and that I’ll probably be given a hard time by my book group friends in due course!    
The Vegetarian (Han Kang): Talking of somewhat strange books… It’s difficult to categorise this short novel (Ian McEwan described it as a ‘novel of sexuality and madness”). Perhaps something along the lines of: compelling, disturbing, strange, extraordinary and defiant? It explores the life of a young South Korean woman and it challenges the strict value system that demands devotion to the family and conformism (and, while we’re about it, the denial of erotic freedom). It starts with the woman announcing (after a dream) that she’s become a vegetarian (for goodness sake!). Her family is horrified and tries to force-feed her meat; her father beats her in front of the whole family; and she’s sent to a psychiatric hospital. It’s in three parts: the first narrator is woman’s husband (a businessman - who thought he had chosen a spouse with an “insignificant personality” – and who is gradually horrified to discover her radical spirit which threatens his career and status!); part two focuses on the explicit, sexually-charged relationship between the woman and her brother in law; part three is told by the woman’s sister, who ultimately becomes her sole carer. Haunting, hugely challenging and darkly beautiful.
The Peregrine (JA Baker): First published 50 years ago, this book is being used by a few of us ‘blokes’ at church as a ‘try out’ for an occasional book group. It was compiled over a ten year period, from 1954 until 1964, by (in Robert Macfarland’s words) a ‘myopic, arthritis office-worker from Essex’ who tracked the peregrine falcons that hunted over the Essex landscape (over an area of some 200sq miles) on bicycle and on foot, watching through binoculars (his wife made him sandwiches and flasks of tea!). I’m not someone who’s particularly fascinated by birds, but this is a quite remarkable book. Baker (1926-87) seems to have an uncanny and incredible ability to detect a peregrine in flight or at rest as a matter of second-nature. It’s almost as if he trained himself to think like a peregrine. I think I’m someone who is pretty good at ‘looking’, but this book made me realise just how much (certainly as far as nature is concerned) I miss. The bulk of the book takes the form of a winter diary (including the savage winter of 1962-63) - describing the pergerine’s ‘kills’, its habitat, its prey, its need for daily bathing, its flight and Baker’s determination and devotion to follow individual peregrines over prolonged periods (none of your GPS devices or drones here!). His descriptions are incredibly detailed; at times, almost unbelievable in their clarity – accounts of things happening more than half a mile away. Indeed, I frequently found myself questioning whether or not it was what he saw or just what he thought he saw! I found myself reading the book in half-dozen page snatches - that is in no way a criticism, simply the best way I found to absorb the text as fully as possible. Baker is obsessed by the bird; he appreciates and understands that the peregrine overcomes its prey “by exploitation of weaknesses rather than superior power”. His painstaking observations, his detailed knowledge of the area’s geography and its wildlife are quite magical… and the language is lyrical, uncompromising, energetic and quite extraordinary. Despite the passion of his descriptions, one gets the impression that Baker was very much a ‘loner’ and not someone taken to making ‘wild gestures’ in public… so I was very taken by this diary note: “She drifted idly; remote, inimical. She balanced in the wind, two thousand feet above, while the white cloud passed beyond her and went across the estuary to the south. Slowly her wings curved back. She slipped smoothly through the wind, as though she were moving forward on a wire. This mastery of the roaring wind, this majesty and noble power of flight, made me shout aloud and dance up and down with excitement…”! A truly beautiful book in every sense.