Travelling To Infinity (Jane Hawking): I bought this remarkable book on the day Stephen Hawking died (from the £3 Bookshop!). It tells the story of Jane and Stephen Hawking’s extraordinary life together. They were married for over 25 years and had three children. They met in January 1963, shortly after Stephen had begun research in cosmology in Cambridge. Within a matter of months Stephen was diagnosed with a strain of multiple sclerosis (later confirmed as motor neurone disease) and given a ‘couple of years to live’ but, despite this, they married in July 1965. The story tells of Stephen’s celebrated achievements in physics, astrophysics, cosmology (and beyond!); the huge list of awards, medals and titles that were bestowed on him from governments and famous institutions; his amazing capacity for sitting for hours working out incredibly complicated theorems in his head; his love of being the star attraction at conferences throughout the world. But behind this frenzied lifestyle came the unrelenting, pivotal, 24/7 support he required to sustain things. Jane was clearly the person who enabled Stephen to achieve so much of what he did (providing the 24/7 care in the early years of their marriage - and a good deal beyond that; juggling family life; making necessary travel and complicated accommodation arrangements; organising suppers and receptions for distinguished visiting scholars and the like; accompanying him on his numerous engagements and providing constant ‘nursing’ support; and later co-ordinating his ‘external’ nursing support and balancing his escalating needs). Stephen and Jane divorced in 1995 (his second marriage to his nurse ended in divorce in 2006 and Jane remarried in 1997), but, since 2006, they were “able to associate freely again and enjoy many a family occasion together”. The book makes compelling reading. It’s a brave, honest, painful account of their lives – with all the triumphs and excitement, together with all hardships and sacrifices. I still haven’t seen the film (“The Theory of Everything”), but I suspect that it begins to tell the story of Jane’s vital role in Stephen’s life – something about which, in this world that concentrates so much on celebrity and success, I suspect that most of us never knew. It’s a long and complicated story – Jane is an excellent writer and she tells the story in a tender, non-vindictive and respectful way. I urge you to read the book for yourself.
Morality For Beautiful Girls (Alexander McCall Smith): I needed some gentle light reading after the in-depth account of the Hawking family! Another gentle, joyful, humourous book of African wisdom.
The Making Of Modern Britain (Andrew Marr): Marr is a brilliant communicator (I’ve also watched both the “Making of” and the “History of” versions on TV). In this book, he covers a lot of ground (from Queen Victoria to VE Day), but is particularly adept and entertaining at telling the stories behind the stories. Here are just a handful of the obscure bits that absolutely fascinated/appalled me:
a) Unsurprisingly (although still depressing), the late 19th/early 20th century Britain saw rigid class distinctions (and these were only emphasised in parliament). Indeed, scientist Francis Galton (in 1901) was keen to introduce what he called “The Possible Improvement of the Human Breed under the Existing Conditions of Law and Sentiment” – endeavouring to classify people by their ‘civic worth’. I won’t shock you with the details but, essentially, “Society should stop the lower sort from breeding so enthusiastically, and encourage the elite to breed more”! Frighteningly, many powerful and influential individuals (including Churchill!) were supportive. The messages were also “well heard” in Germany where, in 1905, an organisation called the Race Hygiene Society was formed.
b) Medicals from WW1 recruitment underlined the huge nutritional and health differences between the classes: “on average serving soldiers were five inches shorter than officers”!!
c) “Failure in Flanders had led Kitchener to make one of his most chilling remarks of the war, complaining that the British commander Sir John French had wasted shells, rather than men. The men could easily be replaced, he said; the shells could not”.
d) I was struck by how powerful/influential the press barons (eg. Northcliffe and Harmsworth) of the early 20th century were… and how it mirrors the present-day world of Murdoch and his like.
e) Similarly, in some strange way, between Lloyd George and Trump (although the latter continues to appal me!): referring to Lloyd George: “He believed in himself, and in doing. He was increasingly drawn to self-made and ‘go-ahead’ business people, rather than party loyalists or other MPs. His power came from his actorly self-projection…”.
f) I certainly wasn’t aware that, at the outbreak of WW1, there were more than a thousand suffragettes in prison and that the leaders of the WSPU (Women’s Social+Political Union) were “either in jail or on the run”.
g) I found Britain’s attitude towards and actions in the Middle East (c 1917) thoroughly depressing (“Arab humiliation”). As Marr says: “We have made-up countries with imported puppet rulers; Arab nationalism first encouraged and then mocked; extremist forms of Islam left to flourish; and the old Caliphate abolished, leading to a debate about what should replace it in the Muslim world. The consequences of the First World War amount to more than paper poppies once a year; they are all around us still”.
All this before the end of WW1! I could add far, far more examples but, hopefully, you ‘get’ my enthusiasm! Marr writes engagingly, even-handedly and knowledgeably in great detail (and with frankness and much humour). I found it an utterly compelling read.
Follow On (EW Swanton): This book was first published in 1977. Swanton was, primarily for me, a very well-loved cricket journalist and broadcaster (he died in 2000 at the age of 92) whose observations on the game were usually intelligent and sensible (although, for some, perhaps just a little too measured and dry?). He was a traditionalist and VERY much a figure of the establishment (conservative with upper and lower case ‘C’!) and this autobiographical book has constant references to players and committee men (sadly, women don’t seem to exist in his world… and, for goodness, don’t even whisper the possibility of ordained women in the Church: “to give countenance to the idea of admitting women to the priesthood… would seem to be lunacy”!!) who, it seems, were primarily from Eton, Harrow (and one or two other prominent public schools) and Oxford and Cambridge Universities. Swanton was certainly not given to romantic descriptions of the game (like Neville Cardus) and, frankly, he frequently comes across as quite a serious, almost pompous, man in this book… which is perhaps a little unfair (albeit that he’d grown up in a different age). Nevertheless, I very much enjoyed reading his thoughts on the game… and, if he was alive today, I suspect that his views on demise of County Cricket would echo my own!
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