blitz…

I went along to the Watershed again yesterday to see Steve McQueen’s film about the blitz bombing on London in 1940, featuring the always excellent Saoirse Ronan (Rita - ridiculously beautifully-dressed throughout despite all the bombing and destruction!) as the single mother living with her father (rather wonderfully played by Paul Weller!). Her bi-racial son (played by Elliott Heffernan) is evacuated, only to run away in a perilous bid to find her (Rita’s Grenadian partner was harassed by racists and deported).

The film deals with some somewhat unexplored issues: the casually racist attitude to people of colour by British wartime authorities; and ditto their attitudes towards the working class in London’s East End. Of course, there are also the predictable (but impressive) scenes of destruction and suffering, blackouts and shelters, women factory workers and ARP wardens… and, of course, plenty of ‘Blitz spirit’.
Lots of impressive stuff but, for me, I have to say that I found the film a little disappointing (especially given it was written, produced and directed by McQueen). I’d even say it frequently felt somewhat contrived and artificial. A film to watch on the telly on a drab Sunday afternoon maybe but, from my perspective, nothing more. Sorry.

october/november 2024 books…

The Sunshine Corpse (Max Murray): Another of my recent Penguin Crime books from our local Oxfam Bookshop (first published in 1954). A man is found dead in a Florida fruit stall. He was an unpopular man and there are a number of people with good reasons for wishing him dead. One of the people who bore him a grudge is subsequently found dead in the river… the local Sheriff has a difficult case on his hands. The novel is cleverly conceived and yet it left me thinking that the author was just trying to be TOO clever (by half!). The story ends with a flood of conflicting confessions and accusations… which eventually sort themselves out amid much bad feeling. Ultimately disappointing.
The British Museum Is Falling Down (David Lodge): It’s been ages since I read a David Lodge book (my book blog tells me it was 14 years ago!). At the heart of this novel (first published in 1961) is the library at the British Museum where the main character (a post-graduate student working on his thesis with a young wife young children) works away – although frequently being pre-occupied or distracted by other matters. His home life seems dominated by the prospect of his wife being perpetually pregnant or of unstinting abstinence (while working through all the permitted methods of birth control allowed by the Catholic Church)… or about the need for more sex or better-quality sex! It’s typical Lodge – always entertaining and amusing but also, at times, bordering on farce (which isn’t exactly my cup of tea).
Mother Country (Jeremy Harding): I picked up this memoir from the £4 Bookshop (first published in 2006). It’s essentially a story about two mothers. Harding was born in 1952 (in London) and, when he was a child, his adoptive mother told him he’ been adopted. As he got older, he wondered about the identity of his biological parents and eventually embarked on a quest to find them… but also learn more about his adoptive parents (by this time his adoptive father had died and mother was in a home struggling with dementia) and how little he knew about them. It’s an account of his often difficult and frustrating journey into his past and the slipperiness of memory. It’s a compelling story set within the social fabric of Britain in the 1950s and 60s.
Down By The River (Edna O’Brien): O’Brien died earlier this year (aged 93). I’ve always found her a compelling, fascinating writer. This novel, published in 1996 is an unsparing story of 14 year-old girl who becomes pregnant by her father. Her mother had died a premature and painful death and the girl has nowhere to turn and is unable to tell anyone of her situation (she also tries to drown herself). A neighbour offers to help her and arranges for them to travel to England where she can get a legal abortion… but she is pressured to return before it can take place. Back home, she faces the wrath of opponents of abortion and sympathetic support from liberals. The weeks go by, amid agony and uncertainty before nature provides an answer in its own grim fashion. Apparently, the novel is loosely based on a real 1992 case of a 14-year-old Irish girl, said to have been a rape victim, whose struggles with the legal system caused a nationwide examination of conscience in Ireland. I found it a completely enthralling, albeit hard-hitting and disturbing, story… beautifully written.
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit (Jeanette Winterson): This book (first published in 1985) tells the story of Jeanette - adopted and brought up by her mother as one of God's chosen people (her mother was a maniacal Pentecostal Christian… something of an understatement!). Keen and passionate, Jeanette seems destined for life as a missionary, but then she falls for one of her converts. At sixteen, Jeanette decides to leave the church, her home and her family, for the young woman she loves. It’s a semi-autobiographical novel and based on Winterson's life growing up in Accrington, Lancashire. It’s beautifully-written, innovative, hard-hitting, tender and, frequently, wonderfully funny. I really enjoyed it.

steve knightley at the beacon lantern…

I first saw Steve Knightley/Show of Hands more than 20 years ago. I certainly remember seeing him with my brother at the Bromyard Folk Festival in 2004 when he was appearing with Phil Beer in their ‘Show of Hands’ guise. Together, they are one of the leading forces in British folk (Peter Gabriel has described them as “one of the great English bands”). Knightley has aged at about the same rate as me (he’s 5 years younger!) – but he can still write songs, play lots of instruments and sing, superbly (unlike moi!).
Last night, he performed solo and was absolutely excellent. His songs frequently talk about the hardships and realities of West Country life – the sadness and the struggles; the declining industries; the broken lives; and the ordinary people – but also about love, families and the beauty of the natural world. He’s a wonderful story-teller and he’s a very funny man.
It was a really brilliant evening – played to a virtually full-house in the Lantern Hall… and with an audience of fans who knew most of his songs and didn’t hold back whenever they were encouraged to join in (which happened frequently!).
On a really difficult day (ie. trying to cope with the Trump vote!), it somehow restored my faith in humanity and decency.
Photo: Steve Knightley performing last night.

small things like these…

I went to the Watershed again this afternoon (although I seem to have gone to the cinema far less during 2024), this time to see an interpretation of Claire Keegan’s book ‘Small Things Like These’ – adapted by Eileen Walsh and directed by Tim Mielants. Keegan is one of my very favourite authors and I read this novella almost two years ago (I’ve read six of her books to date). It was certainly in my top five books of 2023. Quite brilliant.
Cillian Murphy plays the part of Bill Furlong (quite wonderfully) - born out of wedlock, born into shame, but now has a home and a family and a job hauling truckloads of coal around town in County Wexford. Life is tough, but bearable. The church is a dominant force within the town and, in due course, his daughters will be receiving their education courtesy of the church.
It’s a tale of hardship, self-sacrifice and decency.
Delivering coal to the church laundry (one of Ireland’s notorious Magdalene Laundries: the church’s homes for unwed mothers who were made to work in an atmosphere of wretchedness and shame and had their babies taken away and sold to foster parents), he walks straight in and sees the terrified girls for himself. He realises that the scene probably resembles his own poor unmarried mother’s experience (she was fortunate to have been taken in by a wealthy local woman). The church sister is aware that Bill is witness to scenes that could damage her/the church, but she has his daughters’ educational future in her hands…
Like the book, the film is a powerful, haunting and sobering depiction of the utterly shameful time for the Catholic Church and all those who suffered through its actions.
I urge you to see this excellent film (AND, particularly, read Keegan’s brilliantly impressive novella).
PS: Today was the Watershed’s first screening of the film and it had originally been scheduled to be shown in the small/tiny Cinema 2. Fortunately, the powers-that-be recognised that advanced ticket sales were such as to require the screening to be relocated in Cinema 1 (which was virtually a capacity audience this afternoon). Well done them!

october 2024 books…

Duncan Grant+The Bloomsbury Group (Douglas Blair Turnbaugh): For some time now, I’ve been fascinated by the artists and work that have come out of the Bloomsbury Group/Charleston – particularly Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant (1885-1978). Turnbaugh’s book (published in 1987) provides not so much an analysis of his art, but something of his life and relationships (and there were SEVERAL – involving both sexes but, more often than not, men). Grant was a talented painter and designer of textiles, pottery, theatre sets, and costumes. He became involved in the Bloomsbury Group, where he made many great friends including Vanessa Bell. He would eventually live with Bell (though she was a married woman), who became pregnant with his child in 1918. Following the birth, their relationship was mainly domestic and creative, but they continued to live together for more than 40 years (mainly at Charleston). They often painted in the same studio together, praising and critiquing each other's work. Turnhaugh knew Grant and spent many hours interviewing him (and with Grant’s friend Paul Roche) – with Grant providing a wealth of personal stories (many of which are included in the book). As can be gathered from this eulogy at his funeral, Grant was clearly a well-loved man: “an artist, generous and whole-hearted in his response to all that could engage with his genius, richly endowed to express his many-splendoured vision. As we call to mind his art, we remember also his gift for making and keeping friends, suffusing his own life and theirs with a spontaneous, unselfconscious delight in all things of man’s making or imagining…”. A fascinating book.
The Empusium (Olga Tokarczuk): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book. I’d previously read (and greatly enjoyed) her “Drive Your Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead” book 5 years ago (plus a stage performance at the Bristol Old Vic last year). This book is set in September 1913 and it’s described as a ‘Health Resort Horror Story’. A young Pole suffering from tuberculosis arrives at a ‘Guesthouse for Gentlemen’, a health resort in the Silesian mountains. Every evening the residents gather to imbibe the hallucinogenic local liqueur and debate the great issues of the day… but, meanwhile, disturbing things are happening in the guesthouse and the surrounding hills… someone (or something) seems to be watching. In the words of the book’s cover: “Little does the newcomer realise, as he tries to unravel both the truths within himself and the mystery of the sinister forces beyond, that they have already chosen their next target”. I found it a beautifully-crafted, haunting and disturbing book. It’s not particularly long (326 pages), but I thought that the first 200 or so pages were just too pedestrian (a ‘slow reveal’ taken a bit too far, in my view). However, all becomes clear(er!) as the book comes a gripping conclusion. Did I enjoy it? Well, I found its pace somewhat frustratingly slow at times but, ultimately, a compelling book.
The Towers Of Trebizond (Rose Macaulay): This is our next Blokes book (first published in 1956). It’s an absurd novel (although much of it reads like a travel journal) involving three main characters – Aunt Dot, her niece Laurie (who’s also the narrator) and Father Chantry (note: a camel also plays a starring role!) – who set out on an expedition to Turkey (and beyond) to “explore the possibility of establishing a High Anglican mission there”. On the way, they meet various characters (magicians, young British travel writers, lovers etc). According to Wikipedia, the book is partly autobiographical (deciding which parts could be an amusing task). It’s a strange, and yet, captivating book – a mixture of fantasy, high comedy, plus ‘digs’ about love, sex, politics, life, class, religion and church buildings. There are LOTS of amusing/cutting references to the Anglican church and belief generally (which I found myself agreeing with on numerous occasions!)… as well as some depressing reminders (especially given the current horrors taking place in Israel/Palestine) of Britain’s historical role in the Middle East. But, thankfully, lots of high farce along the way – including Laurie purchasing an ape and deciding to teach it chess, croquet, snakes+ladders, tennis and, of course, driving a car! All in all, an unusual and entertaining book.
Egon Schiele: Masterpieces of Art (Rosalind Ormiston): I’ve again been somewhat obsessed by Schiele’s art over recent weeks. Austrian artist Schiele (1890-1918) died at the age of just 28 (as a result of the Spanish flu pandemic). He was a controversial individual (and perhaps not a particularly ‘nice’ person?) but, in his brief career, he was a prolific artist – creating over 3,000 works on paper and some 300 paintings. I love that he painted both figures and buildings with a brash boldness (raw, sometimes shocking, beauty of the human form… and brightly coloured, jumbled façades and landscapes). He was clearly influenced by his mentor Klimt but, for me, there’s also a hint of Mackintosh and Modigliani in his work. The book provides a useful insight into his life and work – as well as a comprehensive collection of colour illustrations of his paintings.
The Half Hunter (John Sherwood): First published in 1961 (another green cover Penguin Crime book from the Oxfam bookshop!). An unusual thriller with 17-year-old Jim Marsden (about to start at Oxford University), in his bright yellow, pre-war Austin Seven car, playing the part of the sleuth. It’s certainly not a run-of-the-mill crime book: a disappearing young woman; rebellious youths with too much money (and rich, powerful parents); an unsolved murder; and several suspects. Lots of imagined conversations and scenarios as Jim speculates on the true course of events. A clever plot and a quick and satisfying read.

oysterband+june tabor at the beacon…

I went along to the Beacon last night to see the Oysterband in their “A Long, Long Goodbye” tour, alongside June Tabor. After 45 years on the road, legendary folk rock collective Oysterband are hanging up their touring boots and concluding their ‘live’ career (whatever that means). 
I last saw them perform, again alongside June Tabor, at St George’s 13 years ago (according to my ancient blog!)… and, of course, we’re ALL getting older! Yes, just like me, they’d all aged and yet, they projected a wonderful celebratory spirit and acknowledgement of their respective musical journeys – the people they’d met, the stories they’d heard, the experiences they’d encountered, the songs they’d sung.
Yes, they’d all aged. Tabor is a year older than me and somewhat frailer than she was in 2011… but her voice has maintained its powerful, brooding majesty which, last night, I found quite moving. Likewise, John Jones still has a wonderful voice and a lovely warm, on-stage presence. Last night obviously involved lots of old familiar songs (the audience were in good voice too!) but, among the highlights for me was the cover of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart”.
They’re coming to the end of their time of performing after 45 years on the road. There were lots of memories, words of gratitude and much laughter. It was a brilliant, quite emotional, evening… and one that I will long remember.
Photo: From last night’s performance.

three cane whale at st george’s (again)…

Hannah and I went to a Three Cane Whale concert at St George’s last night. My blog tells me that it’s more than 10 years since I first attended one of their gigs (and I’ve seen them/Paul Bradley perform perhaps a dozen times since then).
I first came across their music when I was working at the pop-up shop at The Architecture Centre in November/December 2013 (one of their songs was on our regular playlist).
They really are an extraordinary, ridiculously-talented group of musicians (and very nice blokes too); they often like to associate their music with ‘Place’ and have recorded a number of their pieces ‘on location’ – in barns, old chapels, on hillsides and even next to main roads!
The three musicians (Alex Vann, Pete Judge and Paul Bradley) play an incredible, eclectic range of instruments. Last night’s concert was absolutely beautiful (no surprises there) and focused on music from their sixth album, “Hibernacula”.
In a broken world, it was just so lovely to know that beauty, joy and peace still exist. Hannah and I both felt we needed this!
Photo: From our seats in the gallery at last night’s concert.
PS: 3CW always seem able to have rather wonderful ‘support acts’ and last night was no exception… last night Boss Morris were excellent!