july 2022 books…

Tuck Everlasting (Natalie Babbit): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book. We’ve come up with an occasional theme of 'my favourite book I don't mind others laying into' series… and this children’s book (first published in 1975) is the first selection. It reminded me of Max Porter’s wonderful book ‘Lanny’ and also ‘The Buried Giant’ (Kazuo Ishiguro). On the face of it, perhaps not an obvious bookgroup choice (especially for an old codger like me!)… The book starts in 1880. The Tuck family lives in the small rural town in New Hampshire. There is a spring there, with water that will give you immortality and you’ll never grow old. The Tuck family knows this because 80 years earlier they drank the water and haven't aged a day since. But then 10 year-old Winnie Foster stumbles on their secret and the Tucks take her home and explain why living forever at one age is less a blessing that it might seem. Complications arise when Winnie is followed by a stranger who wants to market the spring water for a fortune. *no spoilers*! A rather lovely story (sometimes perhaps a little haunting/frightening if you read it/were read it as a youngster?)… which made a welcome change to UK politics!
The Anonymous Venetian (Donna Leon): My third Commissario Brunetti Venice-based ‘mystery’. Instead of joining his family on a refreshing holiday in the mountains, Brunetti is forced to investigate a gruesome murder (“a body so badly the face is unrecognisable”) as Venice struggled against the full intensity of the summer sun (somewhat ironically, I read it on the day the UK recorded its highest ever temperature!). As ever with these books, it’s set against a background of power, politics, corruption and scandal in the dark Venetian underworld… and, in this case, transvestite prostitution. I love the Brunetti character (and his rather engaging family) and, of course, the fact that it’s set in Venice. Another clever plot and very enjoyable read. I thoroughly recommend the series.
Let Me Tell You What I Mean (Joan Didion): Didion is probably my favourite writer. I love the way she writes, the way she describes people and places… and the wide-ranging stuff she wrote about (she died last December, aged 87). This is a collection of a dozen wide-ranging essays from 1968-2000 (but mainly from the early part of her career), taking in such subjects/individuals as a Gamblers Anonymous meeting, a visit to William Randolph Hearst’s San Simeon castle, Nancy Regan, Robert Mapplethorpe, Martha Stewart and Ernest Hemingway (I particularly enjoyed the Hemingway piece). As always: astute, illuminating and penetrating prose.
The Pursuit Of Love (Nancy Mitford): Apparently, this book (first published in 1945) is one of Alan Bennett’s favourite novels… so, if it’s good enough for him. It’s a novel about an upper-class English family in the interwar period focusing on the romantic life of Linda Radlett, as narrated by her cousin, Fanny Logan (but, bizarrely, in my head I gave the narrator the voice of Alan Bennett – which, for me, actually worked perfectly!!). It’s a book about the tedium of growing up… “longing for love, obsessed with weddings and sex” (as the book’s cover explains). Apparently, Mitford always claimed that the early chapters were largely autobiographical. It’s all very complicated (there were times I felt I needed a sketch of the family tree as a reminder of who was who) – with engagements and marriages that go wrong; wealth (and the lack of it); war and babies. Beautifully written (I’m glad not to have seen any of the televised versions of the book). Very amusing and sometimes quite tragic. Perhaps surprisingly, I rather enjoyed it.
A Venetian Reckoning (Donna Leon): My fourth Commissario Brunetti Venice-based ‘mystery’ (I know!). Another excellent novel (published in 1995) – well-written and cleverly conceived – albeit that the subject (involving the horrors of human trafficking, prostitution and worse) makes for difficult reading at times. Although fiction, it clearly reflects yet another appalling, depressing aspect of our world (as if one needs any reminders… with all our narcissistic, powerful, greedy, lying politicians and corporations!). Nevertheless, the combination of murder mysteries, descriptions of Venice and Brunetti’s rather lovely family provide some sort of justified compensation. The books give a whole new meaning to ‘Death in Venice’ and I’ve consumed each of them in a couple of days.   

eric ravilious: drawn to war…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Margy Kinmonth’s excellent documentary film on landscape artist Eric Ravilious (who died in a plane crash in 1942, aged 39, during his time working as a war artist for the MOD).
Although I’ve been aware of Ravilious’s work for a number of years, it’s only really in the past 6-7 years (largely thanks to the enthusiasm for his work by my great friend David McLaughlin) – during which time I’ve accumulated a number of books relating to his life and his art.
As the film emphasises, Ravilious is a grossly undervalued artist (literally – during his time working for the MOD in WW2, they were keen to buy ten of his original submarine pieces for £2 10s each… that’s £25 for all TEN!!)(I wonder what they’d be worth today?). But, as well as being undervalued, he’s also been largely forgotten - indeed, a trove of Ravilious’s work was discovered hidden under a bed for 40 years (the bed was that of graphic artist Edward Bawden, who was best man at Ravilious’s wedding)!
Working in watercolour, pen and ink and woodcut engraving, Eric Ravilious’s work combined rolling English landscapes (particularly the South Downs) with a “sensibility that was bold in its modernity and economy” (Wendy Ide, The Guardian, 3 July 2022). He engraved more than 400 illustrations and drew over 40 lithographic designs for books and publications during his lifetime.
I thought it was a very beautiful, poignant documentary and it’s made me want to read more about his work (and see more of it too).
PS: After 2 years of trying, in 2019 I eventually managed to persuade Bristol Museum and Art Gallery to let me see Ravilious’s “Tennis Triptych” (1930) – which the gallery keeps shut away in its extensive archives. I think it’s time they put it on permanent exhibition. 

june-july 2022 books…

Right Ho, Jeeves (PG Wodehouse): In yet another effort to avoid all the horrible stuff going in the world, I’m afraid I reverted to the ‘tried-and-tested’ Wodehouse to brighten things a little. This book (first published in 1934) is yet another of his somewhat predictable upper-class sagas about country houses, expensive living and not-so-bright-young-things featuring Jeeves and his trusty butler Wooster. The story is rather like many of Wodehouse’s other Jeeves’ books, but I enjoy his writing style (obviously now very dated) and clipped remarks… and, of course, the ridiculous character names (Gussie Fink-Nottle, Tuppy Glossop, Pongo Twistleton and the like). Easy reading.
Encounters With Peggy Guggenheim (Stefan Moses): I bought this book (published 2018 and still available at Waterstones for a mere £22.50!) at the £3 Bookshop. Renowned photographer Stefan Moses (who was also given access to her private family album) reveals his collection of behind-the-scenes photographs of the eccentric, wealthy, art collecting PeggyG, taken between 1969 and 1974, in her favourite places around Venice, surrounded by her Lhasa Apso dogs and wearing her iconic butterfly glasses. The quality of the photographs (to my amateur eye) varies enormously… perhaps best described as “candid snaps” of a somewhat fearless woman, her Venetian surroundings, her art and those she entertained.
The Code Of The Woosters (PG Wodehouse): Virtually a continuation of the issues raised in ‘Right Ho, Jeeves’ (see above!) which, perhaps strangely, I found far more enjoyable (I love the way in which Wooster attempts to justify his actions in hindsight and to recall various outrageous adventures from his school/university days. Ridiculous character names continued to amuse: Bingo Little, Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright, Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps, Sinker Pinker and the like. Kept me entertained and smiling!
Elisabeth’s Lists (Lulah Ellender): This book was a random purchase from the £3 Bookshop and, as a self-confessed list-maker, I felt I needed to read it! The Elisabeth in question is the author’s grandmother (who died well before the author was born) – who lived a rather glamorous life as an ambassador’s daughter in 1930s China and subsequently as the wife of a British diplomat (with postings to Madrid under Franco’s regime, post-war Beirut, Rio de Janeiro and Paris). The author inherited her grandmother’s rather battered book of handwritten lists (something of a coping mechanism and a “source of structure and comfort” throughout her brief life – she died aged 42) which triggered a desire to learn more (through her diaries and letters). Something of a family memoir – albeit of a rather privileged, upper/middle-class existence. Interesting nevertheless.
House Arrest (Alan Bennett): This is a short book of extracts from Bennett’s diary compiled between February 2020 and March 2022 – “a year in and out of lockdown”. It’s a rather lovely, typical collection of amusing observations and reminiscences from Bennett during a time that had such a profound effect of everyone’s lives. He seemed to cope quite well – his partner working from home meant he received regular cups of tea and a hot lunch! I particular enjoyed his description of one of their regular 3-minute evening walks round the block – which on one occasion coincided with the “fusillade of clapping and pan-banging from neighbours out on their balconies in celebration of the NHS”… “Rupert can clap, but I can’t as I need to hold on to my walking stick. It also appears that, with me walking in the road, I am acknowledging the applause and even generating it. I try to disavow this by feebly smiling and shaking my head, but this just looks like modesty”!   

brian+charles…

Yesterday, while everyone else bathed in the sunshine, I went along to the Watershed to see Jim Archer’s film “Brian and Charles” – about an eccentric inventor, Brian, and his home-made, ramshackle robot, Charles. Actors and co-writers David Earl (Brian) and Chris Hayward (Charles) originally came up with the idea via an internet radio show and a live standup act that apparently spawned “an eye-catching short film” in 2017.

Brian lives alone in a remote cottage in the valleys of north Wales, where he spends his time in his ‘infamous inventions pantry’ (ie. his cowshed). Here, he knocks together outlandishly madcap creations such as the pinecone bag, the flying cuckoo clock, the egg belt and trawler nets for shoes – until one day the discovery of a fly-tipped mannequin head gives him bigger ideas. Having built his robot, Brian thinks it’s best to keep Charles a secret from the locals, and so they spend their days playing darts, cooking cabbages, riding bikes, having pillow fights and watching TV travel shows (as you do!). Hazel (played by Louise Brealey), a kindred spirit, lives in the village with her domineering mother and a talkative parrot… and Charles duly encourages Brian to ‘court her’… *no spoilers*!The film’s director reckons it’s “primarily about loneliness and the power of friendship and companionship”… and it’s certainly that.

It’s ridiculous, but absolutely charming… and even joyful.
Barmy, but beautiful.
You need to see it.
PS: Somewhat bizarrely, in contrast… in the evening, I sat down with Moira and watched ‘Thelma and Louise’ on iPlayer!!