new year reflections: december 2023…

I’ve been scribbling New Year Reflections on my blog for a number of years now (as always – just a reminder for ME). Initially, I decided to drop this rather lame ‘tradition’ but then realised that, because I forget stuff so easily, it made sense to jot things down for future reference! I’ll endeavour to keep it relatively brief this year (some hope!)…
 
WONDERFUL BOOKS:
The Storysmith Book Group (run by our lovely local bookshop) has continued to be brilliant - interesting books, lovely people and good fun too… and I’ve also been part of the ‘Blokes Books’ bookgroup involving some great mates (but, as ever, it seems to take ages for the group to read each book/organise meet-ups!). I continue to read a LOT of books (85 this year) and here are my FIVE favourites (in no particular order):
Small Things Like These (Claire Keegan); The High House (Jessie Greengrass); Devotions (Mary Oliver); Tin Man (Sarah Winman); and, I KNOW I’m cheating here, four ‘Lucy Barton books’ (Elizabeth Strout, my current favourite author): My Name Is Lucy Barton, Anything Is Possible, Oh William! and Lucy By The Sea.
 
GREAT FILMS:
Strangely, I’ve only been to the Watershed eleven times this year (a lot of post-pandemic films haven’t really appealed to me?) but, nevertheless, I saw some brilliant movies. These were my FIVE favourites:
Talking Heads: Stop Making Sense; Tish; Past Lives; Asteroid City; and Lunana: a Yak in the Classroom… (plus, of course, It’s A Wonderful Life!).
 
LOVELY LIVE PERFORMANCES/EXHIBITIONS:
We continue to enjoy going to the theatre, concerts and exhibitions (but, sadly, not many theatre trips in 2023 – although those we did make were excellent) – but still a long way to go! Here are a few favourites (I feel sure there are some exhibitions I’ve forgotten):
THEATRE:
As You Like It (RSC Stratford); Drive Your Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead (Bristol Old Vic); and Kathy+Stella (Bristol Old Vic).
CONCERTS:
Karine Polwart+Kitty Macfarlane; O’Hooley+Tidow; Three Cane Whale; The Metropolitan Orchestra: Mahler Symphony No.1; The Metropolitan Orchestra: Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.4 (all at St George’s). 
EXHIBITIONS:
170th Annual Open Exhibition (RWA); Threads (Arnolfini); Force Of Nature Light Show (Bristol Cathedral); Found Cities, Lost Objects: Women In The City (RWA); Oil Fountain: Luke Jerram (Bristol Cathedral); Photography Exhibition (RWA); plus various art at The Ashmolean, Oxford.
SPORTING MOMENTS:
This year has been a sparse year in terms of watching ANY ‘live’ first-class sport (understatement!). I watched just ONE game of rugby (courtesy of Robin) and, I think, only TWO days of cricket at Gloucestershire CC!
Pathetic, I know! Determined to watch more cricket in 2024…
 
ART STUFF:
With no Art Trail participation these days, my ‘Art Stuff’ is fairly limited… and predictable (although it continues to represent a crucial and enjoyable part of my life):
1. I’ve continued to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like This” blog (now some 4,120 consecutive days – that’s more than 2,000 drawings and 2,000 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 11 years ago)!
2. Urban Sketchers, Bristol: I’ve continued to really enjoy this wonderful group (which I joined in March 2018 and am now one of its three administrators)… it’s a worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, we meet up every month and get anything from 15 to over 30 people coming along. It’s a real highlight and joy.
3. I think I need to paint a bit more than I actually do…
 
HOLIDAYS/LEISURE:
After three years of ‘no holidays’, we actually went away a couple of times this year. We spent a lovely 5 days in Oxford in July – re-living our student days; and then 6 days in Exmouth - it was lovely to see the sea again after so long (just a pity that the weather was pretty grim).
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE:
In theory, I continue to be part of the Community of Saint Stephens in the heart of the city but, as has been the case for several years now, I’m really struggling faith-wise. So much so that, for the past 15 months or so, I’ve taken a ‘sabbatical’ from attending church services (although I did attend the ‘Bethlehem Midnight Mass’ at Saint Stephen’s on Christmas Eve). How long this will continue, only time will tell (indefinitely perhaps?). Moira continues to attend pretty regularly. In the meantime, I’m still trying to find a way of reflecting on the spiritual stuff in my life (albeit far from convincingly!). Meanwhile, I continue to go along to our weekly 7.30am café gatherings for Blokes’ Prayer (which has effectively become my ‘church’) and also attend many of the fortnightly Resonate evening sessions.
 
HEALTH:
My health has been pretty good this year… apart from the normal ageing process (my teeth continue to fall out; I’ve got two hearing aids; I take tablets for my atrial fibrillation plus blood thinners and statins; and have eye drops to deter my glaucoma). My main frustration is my left hip (it’s gradually got worse over the past 3 years); I’ve been walking with a stick over the last 6 months (and my geographical range has vastly reduced!)… and I’m finding it increasingly debilitating. I definitely need a hip replacement (my right hip was replaced 9 years ago) and I’m currently scheduled for an operation in 6-9 months’ time (I’ve got a hospital appointment on 5 January – when, hopefully, I might be given an operation date?).
Meanwhile, Moira continues to deal with her Parkinson’s Disease (confirmed May 2022). She’s generally pretty well and her medication seems to be pretty effective… and she undertakes daily physical exercise via her PD Warrior links (I’m a little in awe of her). Her main frustration is the lack of contact with her Consultants (she’s seen them just once – in May 2022 – and was promised a follow-up consultation within 3-4 months). Despite pressure on the Consultants from her PD Nurse (Moira’s only way of contacting the consultants), she’s still awaiting ANY feedback – 19 MONTHS LATER!
Having lived with the uncertainties of a pandemic over the past FEW years, we’ve become rather used to living with uncertainty!
 
OTHER STUFF:
My early morning walking activities have dropped depressingly over the past 12 months (due to my ongoing hip issues)… but, as alternative dawn ‘activity’, I really enjoy watching the mornings begin… looking through our living room windows.
We gave up the car 6 years ago and, more than a year ago, I gave up driving altogether – so buses and trains are now our default modes of transport. Weirdly, I seem to have developed some form of ‘anxiety’ towards travel.
The world seems to be full of challenges these days (it was probably ever thus)… wars, the climate change, annoying politicians… greed, poverty, lack of funding for the NHS, mental health, education and so much more.
But I DO 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 2024 will bring. No doubt there will be some sad stuff too… and perhaps encounters 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 good year (despite its challenges)… and we continue to count our blessings.
I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and (hopefully) peaceful 2024. 

november-december 2023 books…

Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow (Gabrielle Zevin): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (478 pages long – which, as we always skip meeting in December, allows time for us all to read it!). This is a book about video gaming. I know NOTHING about video gaming… but it didn’t matter. It’s a complex book about friendship, love, creativity, betrayal, rivalry and tragedy (but, as the book’s cover makes clear: “it’s not a romance”!). The key characters, Sam and Sadie, first meet in childhood – in a hospital games room (Sam had an injured foot, which becomes a long-term disability). Years later, they bump into each other at a train station when they were both college students (Sam, mathematics at Harvard and Sadie, computer science at MIT) and, cutting a long story short, end up making an incredibly successful video game together. Their non-romantic relationship is a joining of minds and of worlds but, such creative relationships can also cause rivalry and resentment… which is what happens with them (despite them both continuing to work in the Company they’d set up together at the very beginning). I don’t want to spoil things, so will leave it at that – apart from saying that the story ends with an abstract section set in a virtual world which, ultimately, reveals a means of communication and reconciliation for its real-life players. It’s a very clever, intriguing (and very enjoyable) book.
Uncle Fred In The Springtime (PG Wodehouse): I read this more than 6 years ago (first published 1939), but had forgotten most of it(!). Uncle Fred is Lord Ickenham - as with many of Wodehouse’s books, this one’s full of titled/upper-class characters – and he is urged by a Lord Emsworth to save his prize pig (an everyday story of country folk!). The plot is predictably complex and farcical and, just to complicate things further, many of the characters take on disguised personas during the course of the tale. Who could ever forget(!) people with names such as Pongo Twistleton, Horace Pendlebury-Davenport, Galahad Threepwood, Bingo Little, Oofy Prosser and Bricky Bostock? It’s an absurd storyline but, thanks to Wodehouse’s wonderful, posh descriptions and humour, it provides a hugely enjoyable respite to all the current troubles here in the UK and the world.
Mrs McGinty’s Dead (Agatha Christie): Resorting back to yet another Christie novel (I think we have something like 35 of them on our bookshelves!). This one was first published in 1952 and a village charwoman is murdered and her lodger is found guilty of killing her… but a local police superintendent has his doubts and seeks the help of a certain retired detective, Hercule Poirot. It’s a very clever, satisfying mystery – with lots of plausible possibilities and suspects.
Pessimism Is For Lightweights (Salena Godden): This is a book of 30 poems by a writer I hadn’t previously come across. One of the reviews I came across talked about them as poems “for courage and justice”… there are poems that salute people fighting for justice, poems on sexism and racism, class discrimination, period poverty and homelessness, asylum seekers, immigration and identity. I found them hugely impressive and read them out loud to myself each morning. Excellent.
Choose Life (Rowan Williams): This was my book for this year’s Advent. It’s a series of Christmas and Easter sermons Williams gave in Canterbury Cathedral between 2002 and 2012 (I’ve just read the Advert ones for now). Williams has always struck me as a wise and intelligent man and so I felt that, in my ongoing faith struggles, he might be a good person to read about Christianity at Advent. It proved to be a useful, thought-provoking book – albeit it didn’t quite haul me out of my spiritual wilderness. 

it’s a wonderful life…

Han, Fee, Ursa, Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see Frank Capra’s iconic 1946 fantasy Christmas film… starring James Stewart (George Bailey) and Donna Reed (Mary Hatch).
It’s a great favourite of mine and I’ve watched it several times (and own the DVD), but never at the cinema… and Hannah, Fee or Ursa hadn’t ever seen it.
You’re probably very familiar with the plot… on Christmas Eve 1945, in Bedford Falls, New York, George Bailey contemplates suicide. The prayers of his family and friends reach Heaven, where guardian angel second class Clarence Odbody is assigned to save George in order to earn his wings…
So starts a series of flashbacks of George’s life… he saves his younger brother from drowning; prevents the local pharmacist from accidentally poisoning a customer's prescription; his ambitions for travel and study are thwarted by his father’s death and so is required to take over the family banking business… he marries; ends up using their honeymoon savings to keep the bank afloat… and, of course, has to fight off a certain Mr Henry Potter who effectively controls the town through devious methods…
I’ll spare you the remaining gory details but, cutting a long story short, Potter steals money from Bailey without Bailey realising; the bank faces scandal and criminal charges… and George Bailey contemplates suicide.
Enter Clarence…
It proved to be a rather wonderful evening: a pretty full-to-capacity cinema; all members of our ‘party’ absolutely loved the film; and, perhaps for only the third time in my experience, the entire audience clapped at the end!
If you’ve never seen it, then I really thinking you need to!
PS: Apparently, at the Glasgow Film Theatre, it’s been the venue’s biggest earner for 12 of the last 15 years!

nothing changes…

As part of my Advent ‘ponderings’, I‘ve been reading Rowan Williams’s Christmas sermons from his time in office as Archbishop of Canterbury, 2002-2012 (”Choose Life”). I’ve always found him a wise and thought-provoking man…
The following words from Christmas 2008 are a poignant reminder of how little has changed in the Middle East:
“This year, as every year, we remember in our prayers the crises and sufferings of the peoples of the Holy Land: how tempting it is to think that somehow there will be a ‘saviour’ here – a new US president with a fresh vision, an election in Israel or Palestine that will deliver some new negotiating strategy. It’s perfectly proper to go on praying for a visionary leadership in all those contexts; but meanwhile, the ‘saving’ work is already under way, not delayed until there is a comprehensive settlement.
This last year, one of the calendars in my study… has been the one issued by by Families for Peace – a network of people from both communities in the Holy Land who have lost children or relatives in the continuing conflict; people who expose themselves to the risk of meeting the family of someone who killed their son or daughter, the risk of being asked to sympathise with someone whose son or daughter was killed by activists promoting what you regard as a just cause. The Parents Circle and Families Forum organised by this network are labouring to bring hope into a situation of terrible struggle simply by making the issues ‘flesh’, making them about individuals with faces and stories. When I have met these people, I have been overwhelmed by their courage; but also left with no illusions about how hard it is, and how they are made to feel again and again that they come to their own and their own refuse to know them. Yet if I had to identify where you might begin to speak of witnesses to ‘salvation’ in the Holy Land, I should unhesitatingly point to them.”
Fifteen years on, nothing changes… and the prayers remain the same. 

half a mile from home…

In August 2021, Moira and I moved into an apartment in the very heart of Bristol city centre – our immediate neighbours are the Central Library and the Cathedral.
Although we already knew our neighbourhood pretty well (we’ve lived in Bristol since 2003), we’ve become increasingly conscious of just how fortunate we are to have SO many beautiful locations within easy walking distance of our new flat – LITERALLY ‘half a mile from home’.

Here are just a few – in no particular order (ALL within half a mile of our front door):

1. The Cathedral
2. College Green
3. Lord Mayor’s Chapel
4. Balloon Fiesta (the balloons often fly over us)
5. RWA (Royal West of England Academy)
6. Bristol Old Vic
7. Brandon Hill
8. Watershed
9. Berkeley Square
10. The Hippodrome
11. Saint Stephen’s Church (our church community)
12. Saint Nicholas Market
13. Nelson Street (Street Art)
14. Bristol Beacon (formerly Colston Hall)
15. SS Great Britain
16. Queen Square
17. Arnolfini
18. Central Library
19. Saint George’s
20. Harbourside
21. Christmas Steps
22. Bristol Museum+Art Gallery

Not to mention the pubs, bars, cafés, restaurants, hotels and small shops
(and I feel sure I’ve left stuff out!).
 
Since the first Covid lockdown (March 2020), I think Moira and I have gradually both become conscious that “we’ve aged”! We’ve certainly become far less adventurous when it comes to travel and holidays… neither of us currently has a passport and or continues to drive. We now rely on public transport to get from A to B. 
There’s a sense that our worlds have become smaller and, although that perhaps sounds rather negative, it’s also made us incredibly aware of just how fortunate we are to have so much on our doorstep.
Lucky, lucky us!
Photograph: Some images (photographs and sketches) of our neighbouring facilities and resources!

tish…

I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see a film about Tyneside photographer Tish Murtha (1956-2013), who chronicled working-class lives in the north east in the 70s and 80s (and marginalised communities).
WOW!
I absolutely loved this film… and Murtha’s wonderful black+white photographs.
I’m embarrassed to say that I hadn’t previously heard anything about her before reading the Watershed’s film ‘blurb’ (I know!). Clearly, lots of other people had… because the Watershed was a total sell-out – even on a Wednesday afternoon (ok, it was shown in the small Cinema 2, but nonetheless).
The film is beautifully presented by Murtha’s grownup daughter Ella (who is an eerie likeness of her late mother)… talking to Tish’s relatives, friends and teachers at the School of Documentary Photography in Newport.
Tish came from a working-class background and lived a tough life; much of her photography was shot in different areas of poverty and deprivation. She was just one of the people whose lives she recorded and, as such, wasn’t seen as an intruder when it came to her taking her photographs. She was never understood by the arts establishment and, sadly, Tish was never able to make a living from her photography.
In her final years, she was reduced to poverty by Austerity Britain after the 2008 crash, terrified of being sanctioned by the Department of Work and Pensions. She died of a sudden brain aneurysm at the ridiculously young age of 52.
I found it a very moving film… a reminder of the poverty and deprivation of areas like Tyneside in 1970s/80s (and beyond) and the political attitudes of the time (and beyond!)… but also how such a talented photographer was never recognised for what she was – something of a genius.
I would urge you to see this film if you can. You won’t regret it.
PS: There is a now a room at Tate Britain devoted to Tish Murtha’s work. 

november 2023 books…

Lucy By The Sea (Elizabeth Strout): I’m a huge fan of Strout’s writing (this is the fourth of her Lucy Barton novels). This one, set in March 2020, sees Lucy’s ex-husband William pleading with her to leave New York and escape to a coastal house he has rented in Maine… she reluctantly agrees, expecting to return in a week or so. But William (with his scientific background) knows best… he’s aware of the emerging Covid pandemic that was beginning to take hold. I absolutely loved this novel and her wonderful, graceful style of writing. It was a reminder of the fragility, uncertainty and fear that we all lived through at the time (and, of course, many didn’t)… not being able to meet with family and friends (let alone hug them); the daily walks; the social distancing; the closed shops, cafés, theatres/cinemas; people having work from home; the isolation of those living alone; the fears; the anxieties; the rules (and the rule-breakers)… as well as the positives, such as no traffic, birdsong and the possibilities that the long, quiet days can inspire. Her books don’t feel like novels to me – much more like personal reflections… and this book managed to capture so much about what we’d all been through in some form or other. Quite, quite brilliant.
Companion Piece (Ali Smith): I think I’ve only previously read one of Smith’s books (‘Accidental’, back in 2012) and, according to my old blog post wasn’t desperately impressed. Strangely, as it happens, this is another lockdown story (published in 2022). The father of the main character, Sand, is ill in hospital. She sits outside the hospital gazing up at the windows of the ward where the people they love are probably dying; she’d looking after her father’s dog. She’s contacted by an old university friend, Martina, from years ago (who she never really got on with) who wants to tell her a story; this woman’s teenage daughters burst into her life (and home). Sand fears these ‘Covid-denying anti-maskers’ may be carrying disease… The second part of the book’s story relates to where Sand walks the dog in a local park, beneath which lies a medieval plague pit… and this introduces us to a time-travelling female blacksmith with a fairytale aura, who made beautiful things centuries ago. Those things include a famous lock that is at the centre of the story Martina told… The book is something of a fable; it’s a beautifully-crafted tale of episodes of injustice from the distant past coupled with frustrations and sadness induced by the recent pandemic.
Nothing But The Night (John Stoner): This short novel (published in 1948) follows one day in the life of 24-year-old Arthur Maxley, who’s living alone in an anonymous city after dropping out of college. He lives a somewhat listless life (paid for by his father) which frequently involves intoxication. He receives a letter from his long-estranged father (a man that Arthur has a powerful fear and aversion towards) and they agree to meet for lunch. After their meeting, Arthur disappears into the night, gets drunk and ends up becoming involved with a beautiful young woman. This, in turn, brings back painful, disorientating memories of a childhood trauma involving his mother… and his night comes to a violent end. Unlike Williams’ compelling book ‘Stoner’ (which I read nearly 10 years ago), I’m afraid I found this one utterly forgettable.  
Notes To Self (Emilie Pine): Having read (and been impressed by) Pine’s ‘Ruth+Pen’ novel, I decided to explore this non-fiction book of essays (published in 2018, 4 years before R+P). She’s quite a brilliant writer and these assays are extraordinarily frank, honest and raw. They are part-memoir and part-psychological exploration. The book’s cover describes them thus: “she writes of caring for her alcoholic father, the childhood pain of her parents’ separation, her unboundaried teenage years, infertility and sexual violence” (I was particularly impressed by the essays about her father and her own infertility). It’s a fascinating, confessional book. Harrowing, honest and brilliant.
The Moving Finger (Agatha Christie): Yet again, I’ve resorted to Agatha (this novel first published in 1943). I hadn’t previously read the book, but knew that I’d watched one of the BBC ‘Miss Marple’ adaptations of it on the telly (she doesn’t enter the story until two-thirds the way through the book). The trouble was that, typically, I could no longer remember who actually HAD committed the murder(s)! Another clever, satisfying crime mystery – albeit with some rather ‘dated’ attitudes and comments (it was written 80 years ago afterall!).

mahler: symphony no.1 at st george’s…

I went along to St George’s again last night to see/hear the Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra tackle Mahler’s Symphony no.1 (I love Mahler!). My great mate Ed was one of the seven(!?) horn players featured in this full orchestral rendition. 
There’s something very impressive about witnessing a large orchestra (70+ performers?) in full voice… and last night was a bit special.
The two other works performed last night were: Cécile Chaminade’s ‘Callirhoë Suite’ and the world première of ‘Selene's Awakening’ featuring Sophie Stockham on solo saxophone.
All in all, a really magical evening.
Photo: orchestra view from my seat (needless to say, I didn’t quite manage to fit everyone in!)…

reflections on health, ageing and stuff…

I’ve been mulling over all sorts of health-related matters over recent days… and, hey, I’m well aware that there are LOTS of other urgent world issues that also need our thoughts at the present time.
As you might imagine (if you know me), these reflections are incredibly muddled, inconclusive and incomprehensible… but I felt the need to scribble them down (to prove to myself how little I know about such matters!)(I’m not asking for people to point out that I’m wrong!).
Here’s the context (and these are just three examples close to my heart):
1. Many of us are aware of how badly children’s mental health has been affected by Covid lockdowns and its repercussions. Some of our grandchildren have certainly struggled in this regard. After retirement from my architectural practice, I worked at a secondary school for six years (until 2011) and was frequently involved in making CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) referrals. At that time, waiting lists were in the order of 6-7 weeks. Today, 12 years on, I understand those waiting times are now in the order of 2 YEARS.    
2. Moira was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in 2022 (first suspected in 2021). She had an appointment with her Registrar and Consultant in May 2022 and they promised to see her again in 3-4 months’ time. More than 18 months later, this still hasn’t happened (despite pressure from the PD Nurse on her behalf)… so, apart from the PD Nurses’ occasional notes, they have absolutely no idea how Moira is coping. Fortunately, Moira’s medication has proved to be helpful in coping with key aspects of her condition, but nevertheless… Moira and I are regular followers of the brilliant weekly “Movers+Shakers” podcast about PD and it seems that again and again people report that they’ve only managed to see their consultants once a year at the most. It really shouldn’t be like this but, no doubt, resources (staff and funding) are stretched to their limits.
3. I’m currently struggling to walk. I need another hip replacement (my right hip was ‘done’ some 9 years ago – and very successful it has proved). I’ve been ‘referred’, but am currently in limbo land as I await contact from Musculoskeletal (MSK) team (waiting times are now ‘longer than anticipated’). Nine years ago, it took something like 7 weeks from referral to operation. These days, I’m told it’s more like two years (but I’ve actually no idea as to my current position in the queue). In the meantime, I walk with a stick and my ability to walk any distance beyond half a mile is very limited. My condition is both depressing and debilitating. Yes, apparently, I could ‘go private’ for something like £15,000 and be treated within 4 weeks… but this is against my principles (in these days of the NHS, why should we discriminate between those who can afford and those who can’t?). Yes, no doubt there will be many who will disagree with me.

Of course, thanks to amazing scientific advancements, life expectancy in the UK has risen by almost 10 years in the past 50 years (currently 81 years compared with 72 in 1975, apparently). The population is getting older and we have the ability to treat them (in some form or other)… if we WANT to.
But health and welfare is an expensive business and, perhaps unsurprisingly, for the past dozen years or so, the UK’s Conservative government has seemed prepared to underfund the NHS and exert pressure on people to take up private healthcare (thereby jumping the queues etc). So, whilst the NHS has the ability to undertake a wide range of measures, lack of funding has meant that what funds have been allocated are more thinly spread… resulting in staffing levels being reduced (and overworked and stressed workers), waiting times increasing alarmingly and, almost inevitably, staff leaving the NHS (not to mention the EU doctors and nurses who have departed since Brexit).
It’s a nightmare scenario for politicians and administrators alike. What SHOULD the priorities be? Regular evaluations and monitoring of a PD patient, for example, are vital for appropriate prognosis and treatment. Such evaluations aren’t happening at present… A two year waiting list for children with mental health issues is two YEARS of their childhood, for goodness sake… Of course, for example, people awaiting cancer treatment should come before me and my hip replacement, but…
For me (and I appreciate that - in this world of climate crisis, wars and cost of living issues - there are LOTS of areas requiring extra funding!), raising taxes to pay for effective NHS and Social Welfare services seems like the ONLY appropriate measure… and yet we have currently have a government that has a philosophy of actually REDUCING taxes.
What hope is there?

september-october 2023 books…

Ruskin Park (Rory Cellan-Jones): As you probably know, Rory Cellan-Jones was the BBC’s principal technology correspondent until 2021. I’ve become far more aware of him over recent months as one of the six friends (not mine!) who meet together in a pub regularly in the ‘Movers and Shakers’ podcast (like Moira, he’s a Parkinson’s sufferer). It’s a book about his childhood home (Ruskin Park House – a tiny Council flat), his mother, the BBC (for whom she worked for 33 years) and his own upbringing. It’s a complicated and, in many ways, quite remarkable story which was really only made possible because his mother was zealous letter writer (who seemed to keep copies of all correspondence she received as well as taking carbon copies of most of the letters she sent out!). His mother was quite a remarkable woman – she single-parented two sons in a one-bedroom flat, while working full time through the 1950s/60s. She was a member of MENSA, learnt to fly and was clearly intelligent but, as was the case for so many women in 1950s/60s, the opportunities for career advancement (certainly in the BBC) were shockingly limited. As well as providing a fascinating and compelling account of the various family dramas, the book also provides a valuable social history of those post-war times. An excellent read.
Ruth and Pen (Emilie Pine): This is our Storysmith bookgroup’s latest book (theme: 2023 paperback). The two females in the title are Ruth (a therapist in her early 40s, whose marriage appears to be buckling beneath the weight of repeated IVF cycles) and Pen (intelligent 16-year-old struggling with her autism - who has few friends and who requires regular timeouts from class to cope with the severe pressures each day presents). The story takes place in Dublin over the course of a single day (7 October 2019) and the narrative initially alternates between Ruth+Pen by means of a third-person (Ruth’s husband, Pen’s mother and a close friend)… and their paths briefly cross twice during the course of the book. I found it a beautiful, tender - albeit frequently challenging - book (wonderfully written) about stuff that people often hesitate to discuss, such as marital struggles, sexuality, miscarriage, friendships, mental health, early adulthood, and autism.
Dead Man Singing (Steve Couch): This novel was written by a good friend of mine and, within the first couple of chapters of this rather brilliant book, I was taken back to the first time I saw Richard Thompson perform on stage… with Fairport Convention (the 24hour Blues Festival at Oxford Poly in March 1969). The book is set in the early 1990s and focusses on the dwindling career of Dave Masters, a musician who, in his hey-day of the 1970s/80s, was something of a pop icon. Depressingly, he’s now no longer performing with his band and has been reduced to appearing alone in seedy pubs and clubs. It all becomes too much… he can’t carry on. After listening to a song by one of his musical heroes, Richard Thompson, he decides to fake his own death in an attempt to boost his record sales but, in the process, realises that he can’t live without the stage and comes up with a plan to re-launch his career… It also features a Broadway as one its key characters (I know!)(but *no spoilers*). 
It’s a clever and intriguing story – given total authenticity thanks to Steve’s impressive musical knowledge of bands, gig venues and the like (he’s clearly a very devoted music fan). It captures what one imagines is the life of a touring band perfectly – with all the humour, arguments, rivalries, frustrations, lies and highs. Entwined within all of this is a compelling story of relationships, family, likeable characters, gangsters(!) and Dave Masters’ battles with himself. It’s wonderfully written and a real page-turner. I read it in three days.
The Radetsky March (Joseph Roth): This is our latest Bloke’s book selection. I have to say that it took me some considerable time to ‘get into the book’ (I took a brief ‘time-out’ after Part 1, some 133 pages), but am pleased that I persevered and became quite taken by it – and, ultimately, found it quite moving. It’s a family saga novel (written in 1932) chronicling the decline and fall of Austria-Hungary via the story of the Trotta family through three generations. In northern Italy, during the Battle of Solferino in 1859, Emperor Franz Joseph I, is almost killed and only saved by the actions of Infantry Lieutenant Trotta – who, to thwart snipers, topples the Emperor from his horse. As a reward, the Emperor awards him the Order of Maria Theresa and ennobles him. Elevation to the nobility ultimately leads to the Trotta family's ruination, paralleling the imperial collapse of Austria-Hungary (1867–1918). So, from the family’s somewhat lowly background, the newly elevated Baron is regarded by everyone from the new baron's old life, including his family, as a nobleman – a class in which he feels temperamentally uncomfortable. The subsequent von Trotta family generations misunderstand the elder generation's reverence for the legend of Trotta's saving the Emperor's life and consider themselves rightful aristocrats. The subsequent first, second and third Baron Trottas (although they have little knowledge their family background) are pressed into unremarkable careers within the military, government and military respectively. The cavalry officer's career of the third Baron Trotta comprises postings throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire and all the off-duty pursuits characteristic of the military officer class in peace-time (ie. a dissipated life of wine, women, song, gambling, debts, and dueling. Following a fatal duel the young Trotta transfers from the socially elite regiment to a far less prestigious one. Baron Trotta's infantry unit subsequently brutally suppresses an industrial strike in a garrison town and the aftermath of this professional brutality begins Lieutenant von Trotta's disillusionment with empire. He is killed, bravely but pointlessly, in a minor skirmish with Russian troops during the opening days of World War I. A beautifully-written (and well translated by Michael Hofmann), disturbing-but-engaging novel about a vanished world – 363 pages – for the likes of our Bloke’s bookgroup?).
Towards Zero (Agatha Christie): After a fairly hefty tome, I returned to the comfort of a trusted Agatha Christie novel (this one first published in 1944). It’s set at Gull’s Point on the English coast. Aged Lady Tressilian invites her ward, Nevile Strange, for his annual visit; he insists on bringing both his former wife and his present wife (plus other house party guests) - though Lady Tressilian finds this somewhat ‘awkward’, to say the least. I’ll refrain from giving away too much of the ploy but, needless to say, it involves murder… threatened suicides, family acrimony, strained relationships and unexpressed love (among other stuff). It involves numerous characters and multi-layers of scene-setting. Incredibly easy-reading (I read it in 2 days) and cleverly plotted – but with (as in many Christie novels) a few out-of-the-blue characteristics to help justify the outcome (which I didn’t find 100% convincing to be honest). Enjoyable ‘comfort reading’ nevertheless (despite the occasional death!). 

gone fishing...

There have been six series of ‘Gone Fishing’ on the telly… and I’ve watched all of them… TWICE (I know!).
In case you haven’t a clue what I’m referring to, the programme features comedians Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse reflecting on life after their shared major heart problems, while on fishing trips to various locations around Britain. It was first shown on BBC Two in 2018 and has been re-commissioned every year since.
Apparently, Series 7 is being expanded to 8 episodes in 2024 (there’s normally six).
I absolutely love the programme – despite the fact that I have no interest in fishing whatsoever (and have never been fishing in my entire life).
What I find so enjoyable about the programme is that it’s about two old geezers (neither of them even approaching my age – Whitehouse is 65 and Mortimer is 64) out by themselves, enjoying beautiful UK locations, having time to relax and reflect on life… and, of course, fish.
The formula is ridiculously simple… they travel to these lovely places, they fish and they put the world to rights sitting on riverbanks. Whitehouse is the fishing guru (Mortimer frequently ignores his advice). Mortimer is responsible for catering and finding overnight accommodation. The programme is just 30 minutes long (the ‘Christmas Specials’ are an hour long)… I love their silly conversations and banter… and it’s made all the better with stunning aerial views (thanks to drone photography) and occasional appropriate background music.
In some ways, it all feels a bit like meeting up with one’s mate for a pint in the pub.
When I think about why I love the programme so much, I think it’s something to do with escapism – taking a ‘time out’ from this ridiculous, angry, selfish world (or at least some of the major players in it) and celebrating the beautiful, good, simple things that really matter. 

talking heads: stop making sense…

When I grow up, I want to be David Byrne.
I love ‘Talking Heads’ and, back in 2007, owned a DVD of one of their December 1983 gigs given away free with ‘The Observer’. I played it all the time and loved it…
Tragically, following our house move two years ago, I can no longer find it. I gave away LOTS of my CDs etc (free-to-collect on the pavement outside our house), but was careful to retain all my ‘absolute favourites’… and, SURELY, SMS wasn't among them? It was just in a cardboard CD envelope as opposed to a hinged-plastic case… perhaps I put it in a ‘special place’? If so, where on earth was that?
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I went along to the Watershed last night to see the ‘Stop Making Sense’ concert film (filmmaker Jonathan Demme’s new and complete 4K restoration for the film's 40th anniversary) on the big screen - David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison, alongside an ensemble of supporting musicians and singers. The live performance was shot over the course of three nights at Hollywood's Pantages Theatre and featured the band's most memorable songs including ‘Burning Down the House’, ‘Psycho Killer’ and ‘Once in a Lifetime’.
It felt somewhat weird for me to be going to the cinema at 8.30pm (me being an ‘old codger afternoon regular’!). The cinema was packed (it was a sell-out) and the evening didn’t disappoint. Wonderful, evocative music; wonderfully energetic and passionate performances; and, of course, David Byrne was absolutely mesmerising throughout.
The age-range of the audience was interesting – half were old fogies like me (I was probably the second oldest member) and the other half were probably all under 40. Some were no doubt re-living their youth and others probably checking out the musical tastes of their parents!
An utterly compelling evening. I absolutely LOVED it (and the rest of the audience did too!).
PS: On New Year’s Eve in 1967(?), at a somewhat drunken party, I was asked if I would like to join a newly-formed group as their lead singer (we called them ‘groups’ in those days, not ‘bands’). They’d clearly never heard me sing. I gracefully declined…
I appreciate that Talking Heads weren’t formed until 1975, but I’m pretty sure that, if I HAD agreed to embark on a musical career, it’s just possible that I might have become the Byrne-before-Byrne legend of the pop world… (we will never know!).
Oh, what might have been?!
PPS: These days, cinemas (even the Watershed) encourage people to take their bar drinks into the auditorium… which is fine, BUT (last night) it did mean that there was a CONSTANT stream of people (of all ages!) making their way from their respective seats, squeezing past fellow audience members in their rows on their way to the loos!

cricket #2: another season comes to an end…

The fact that it’ll be October tomorrow just about sums up how the traditional 4-day county championship has essentially become shoe-horned into the very beginning and end of the cricket season (and to think that, back in 1929, Neville Cardus described cricket as “The Summer Game”!). I’m embarrassed to say that during the course of the season, I only attended TWO games (a day at each… my other attempt was completely rained off)(my ‘home’ side, Gloucestershire play just five county championship games in Bristol all season).
Gloucestershire had an awful season (understatement!). After being relegated from Division 1 last year, they came bottom of Division 2 (even Yorkshire – who had 50 points deducted following the recent racism inquiry – finished above them!).
Gloucestershire’s playing record for the season makes for dismal reading: Played 14, Won 0, Lost 6, Drawn 8.
I have to say, from my rather limited experience of watching Division Two cricket this season, the quality of the cricket has been pretty ‘ordinary’ to say the least. One significant difference that I’ve noticed is the far greater percentage of draws in Division 2 compared with Division 1:
DIVISION 1: 140 games, 48 draws; percentage of drawn games: 34.3%
DIVISION 2: 112 games, 68 draws; percentage of drawn games: 60.7%
In other words, Division 2 games are almost TWICE as likely to end in drawn games compared with Division1.
Why should that be?
Is it related to the lack of talent (mediocre batters and mediocre bowlers)?
Is it related to ‘better players’ not being attracted to join second division clubs?
Is it related to poor captaincy (being prepared to ‘play safe’)?
Is it related to poor coaching/inability to attract quality coaching staff?
Is it related to the lack of ambition/leadership (and/or finance) of the clubs?
Answers on a postcard, please…

cricket #1: membership fees…

Today is the last day of the English cricket season…
As I’m sure you will appreciate, if you’ve ever read any of my previous blogs on cricket(!), it seems that I remain one of the few cricket lovers who would still much prefer to watch a 4-day County Championship game in preference to all the Twenty20 Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup matches.
Although, for various reasons, I only attended two days of Gloucestershire five home games in Bristol this season, I continue to feel frustrated by the club’s stance when it comes to membership/season tickets (I assume it’s the same for most of the clubs).
Full Gloucestershire CC membership for this season was some £256 (which provided entry to all home County Championship, Vitality Blast matches, One-Day Cup matches and Cheltenham Cricket Festival games)… and there was a separate One-Day membership for £133 (Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup games).
I would be happy to sign up for membership if only they had a ‘County Championship only’ category (which on a basis of £256 minus £133 could be available for say £123)… BUT there isn’t one!
I’ve previously written to the Club committee, but they tell me they had previously considered the matter, but decided against it.
On the two occasions I attended this season in Bristol, the ticket price was £21. I would estimate the number of spectators at the two games I attended this season to be say 250 (ridiculous!). The vast majority of these will have been members. In the circumstances, it seems to me that the club should be doing EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to attract bigger crowds and allow people like me to attend regularly at a reasonable price.
In your dreams, Steve… in your dreams!
There are 7 four-day home County Championship games (5 in Bristol, 2 in Cheltenham). Let’s say that I would attend two days of each of the Bristol games (allowing for rain and my own incredibly hectic schedule!) - on the basis of a daily £21 ticket, that’s 5x2x£21 =£210. Sadly, I wouldn’t be prepared to pay such a sum… BUT allow me to purchase a ‘County Championship only’ membership for say £120, and I would happily do so (and the club would also benefit from the resulting increased beer+pasty sales!). The more spectators they can attract, the more beer and food revenue they will accrue… the better the atmosphere in the ground etc.
It’s seems an absolute no-brainer to me… but what do I know?
PS: Most cricket-lovers would agree that the County Championship provides an important basis for developing young talent for the England Test team. From a county’s perspective, however, it’s entirely understandable that the Vitality Blast and One-Day Cup matches are the ones that attract the crowds… and the revenue. As a result, the County Championship fixtures are largely relegated to the months of April, May and September. If that’s the case, to my mind, they should be doing everything possible (ie. financially) to attract spectators to this less desirable time of the year. 
I’m well aware that vast majority of these spectators will be old codgers like me… but don’t knock it! There’s something rather wonderfully therapeutic about us oldies gathering under our several layers of clothing, sipping our beers, watching the cricket and remembering the ‘olden’ days.
Are they afraid that membership income will be reduced due to Oldies like me opting for the ‘county championship games only’? 

kathy+stella solve a murder…

Moira and I went along to the Bristol Old Vic last night to see this rather wonderful comedy, murder mystery musical(!) from the Olivier Award-winning team behind ‘Fleabag’ (producer Francesca Moody). Written and directed by Jon Brittain, it provided a brilliant, funny and joyful (despite the murder theme!) evening’s entertainment.
Best friends for life Kathy (played by Bronté Barbé) and Stella (Rebekah Hinds) are the murder-obsessed hosts of Yorkshire’s least successful true crime podcast. But things are not going well… their careers are non-existent, their families are worried sick and their favourite crime author has just been killed… So, of course, they decide that this is just the opportunity they’ve been waiting for: it’s time to solve a crime.
It’s not easy though… with no experience and armed with only their Twitter feeds, their ‘murder gang’ of limited online devotees… but, hey, solving murders can’t be all that difficult? Can they crack the case (and become global podcast superstars) before the killer strikes again…?
Bronté Barbé and Rebekah Hinds are outstandingly good (and both have great voices, which blend together perfectly) and the other five supporting actors are also of the highest calibre.
All in all, a REALLY enjoyable whodunnit evening of silliness, fun and quality… in front of a packed enthusiastic Old Vic audience.
PS: The actor Bronté Barbé has actually been staying at Hannah+Fee’s house during the production run.
PPS: Last night’s production included captions for the hard of hearing… which was somewhat ironic for us (Moira had lost one of hearing aids earlier that morning and one of mine had stopped working!!).

september 2023 books…

The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd (Agatha Christie): First published in 1926 (nearly 100 years ago!). I’ve been intending to read it for quite some time (it's been on our bookshelves for some years!)… and it didn’t disappoint. It has the ‘usual’ Christie murder mystery features: a peaceful English village is stunned by the death of a widow from an overdose of Veronal… then, less than 24 hours later, a man she had planned to marry is murdered… oh, and there’s also blackmail… and, of course, Hercule Poirot (who had ‘retired’ and become a recent anonymous inhabitant of the village). He ends up being asked to apply his little grey cells’ to a wonderfully intriguing mystery. It’s clever, baffling, controversial and audacious… I’ll say no more!
Bournville (Jonathan Coe): Bournville, as you probably know, is a village and a factory, built by the Quaker Cadbury family in the 19th century – some 4 miles of so from Birmingham’s city centre (my brother lives in Harborne – only a mile or so away). In this novel, Coe examines Britain’s postwar history through the eyes of a Birmingham clan. Like Coe, my family has deep roots in the Midlands (in our case Birmingham). Although this is a work of fiction, the character of Mary Lamb is based closely on his late mother. Mary was born 1934 and my own mother, also Mary, was born in 1928 – and so their respective stories have a certain mirrored poignancy. Lots of the novel’s city locations (eg. Handsworth, Soho Road) also have very strong associations with my own upbringing. The book is structured by seven ‘milestones’ that Mary and her family experienced over the past 75 years or so – VE Day celebrations; the Queen’s coronation; the World Cup final; the wedding of Charles and Diana; the funeral of Diana; and the 75^th anniversary of VE Day – which take new perspectives on the past and its role in shaping the present, both personal and national (how we lived then and how we live now). I’ve seen it described as a ‘state-of-the-nation’ novel and think that’s pretty accurate. I’ve come to really enjoy Coe’s writing and observations and found this book clever, frequently very funny… but also tender and rather beautiful.
Shrines Of Gaiety (Kate Atkinson): I love Atkinson’s writing – she’s a wonderful story-teller and one of my favourite authors. This novel is set in 1926. The country is still recovering from the Great War; London has become the focus of a new night life (‘Jazz Age London’). At the heart of this glittering world is the notorious Nellie Coker – ruthless, but also ambitious to advance her six children. She owns several Soho clubs where peers of the realm rub shoulders with gangsters. But success also breeds enemies and her empire is under threat “from without and within”. It’s a long novel (515 pages) and, frankly, it took me perhaps 100 pages to get ‘into it’… but, once I had, I found it absolutely enthralling. I loved the key characters and the intricate plot. Excellent.
The Book Of Bristol (ed Heather Marks+Joe Melia): This book of Bristol-themed short stories is our next Storysmith’s bookgroup book. It comprises ten stories from a range of autors (apart from the sadly departed Helen Dunmore, I hadn’t come across the other contributors (or indeed the editirs). In truth, I thought the stories were ‘interesting’ rather than ‘compelling’(!). In addition to Dunmore’s offering, the story I most enjoyed was KM Elkes’ “Malago Days” – about the elusive angel who turns up at a struggling café along the Malago river (which in a somewhat strange way reminded me a little of Tom waits’ song “Highway Café”). No doubt I’m wrong, but I kept thinking that some of the authors had been told that “if you mention key Bristol locations and venues, then it might help your case to be included in the forthcoming book of Bristol short stories”!  
People Person (Candice Carty-Williams): I’d finished the two books I’d taken with me on holiday and so ended up ‘borrowing’ this one from Moira’s holiday reading pile. It’s about five half-siblings whose father was a negligible presence in all their lives. The half-siblings (young adults/adults in our story) had four different mothers between them; their father was never physically, mentally or emotionally present in their lives; had difficulty in remembering their names (or their birthdays) and was frequently asking them for money when times were hard. He worked as a bus driver, but spent much of his time chasing and flirting with women. I won’t go into details (*no spoilers*), but the half-siblings come together after a “catastrophic event” reconnects them. The book explores, among a whole range of things, racial discrimination within the police, toxic relationships, social media, generational trauma and the objectification of Black men and women. I have to say that this wasn’t ‘my kind of book’. I struggled to come to terms with many of the ‘easy relationships and attitudes’ between some of the young adults, but found the characters’ struggles to accept the indelible failings and traumatic legacies of their childhood… about who they are and how they want to be quite impressive. It’s witty and very readable… but just not quite my cup of tea. 

karine polwart and kitty macfarlane at st george’s…

I went along to St George’s last night (along with good friend Maria) to see Karine Polwart and Kitty Macfarlane in concert. I first saw KP at Greenbelt in 2005 and I love her music and her insights, but had never previously come across KM (apart from knowing she’s from Somerset).
It proved to be an exceptional evening.
They shared the stage for the entire evening – joining in the harmonies and choruses of each other’s songs and shared stories. The St George’s blurb previewed the evening like this:
“Karine Polwart and Kitty Macfarlane write with an eco-eye, drawing from the same deep well of greater-than-human life as inspiration for many of their songs. Karine wonders if the annual migration of pink-footed geese from Iceland to her neighbouring peatbog in south-east Scotland can teach us humans about cooperation, whilst Kitty marvels at the epic oceanic journey of the eel. And where Kitty finds human connection in those gathered to witness a starling murmuration on the Somerset Levels, Karine explores the notion of resilience by celebrating the tiny, tenacious sea-pink”.
Their musical styles and voices are quite similar and the evening felt as if they had been working together for years – whereas the basis was actually a case of each of them loving and being familiar with each other’s music.
It was a full house at St George’s and the audience was also in very good voice – encouraged and led by KP… there was a lovely, positive atmosphere in the concert hall and, strangely perhaps, on the way home, I found myself thinking: “if only the world could be filled with people and beliefs like these, wouldn’t it be a wonderful place”!
Following the last Karine Polwart concert I attended a couple of years ago, I wrote this:
“Powerful, intelligent, thought-provoking, political, tender, poignant music at its very best. She’s an eloquent poet (and she’s frequently funny too). She’s a person who reminds you that small voices are important. She’s an inspiration.
At this time when so many of us are disenchanted by politics and what’s happening in the world, last night was a wonderful reminder that there ARE decent, inspiring people who demand to be heard. 
May it be so”.
My views haven’t changed.
Photo: from last night’s concert.
PS: As ever with concerts at St George’s, I always end up bumping into old friends from the past (and present). Last night was no exception: Sharon, Angela (and her daughter), Catherine, Big Jeff, Andy, Jonty (plus Maria)… 

past lives…

It’s been some time since I last went to the Watershed cinema (getting on for three months, for goodness sake!) - I just haven’t fancied seeing any of the stuff they’ve been showing recently.
BUT, I went along yesterday to see Korean-Canadian director Celine Song’s film “Past Lives”… and was very glad I did, because it was absolutely beautiful.
At the age of 12, a Korean boy and girl are sweethearts (despite their fierce rivalry at school vying to come top of the class), but then she and her family leave South Korea to make their home in North America. 12 years later, in their 20s, they re-connect via social media (she’s a successful writer and he’s making his way through his military service while studying engineering). They share numerous conversations conducted at opposite ends of the day, on opposite sides of the world… but, at her behest, that comes to an end.
Another 12 years later (she’s living in New York and married to a Jewish American; he’s still single, emerging from a relationship) and he ends up coming to New York to see her (and her husband). They hadn’t seen each other for 24 years.
It’s a story about lost love and childhood crush… about unfulfilled dreams… about roads not taken and lives not led… about unresolved affection, regrets and what might have been. In the film, there are references to the Korean concept of ‘in-yun’, the karmic bringing together of people who were lovers in past lives… with a suggestion, perhaps, that this is a 21st-century version with (as The Guardian’s critic Peter Bradshaw puts it) “their childhoods, preserved and exalted in their memory and by modern communications”. I’ll say no more.
It’s a heartrendingly sad film and yet, in some ways, I also found it rather uplifting and even profound(?). Beautifully acted and directed (and the accompanying music is rather lovely too).
I thought it was quite wonderful… and think you need to see it. 

lockdown revisited…

It happens quite frequently for me… scouring the house looking for something (which, inevitably, I can’t locate) and then coming across something I hadn’t looked at for some time. It happened again this week and I found myself reading through my two ‘Blurb’ books covering a year of the pandemic.
At the start of Covid, in March 2020, I was conscious that the pandemic (as it became) was likely to have a dramatic effect on our daily lives… and decided to begin compiling a book-cum-diary-cum-photograph album of reflections and images. I decided that I would do this over a six-month period… Surely, by then, the perceived dangers would have passed? But, of course, it hadn’t and so I continued to record my experiences for a further six months – until March 2021.
In the event, having ‘re-discovered’ my two books (“Love in the Time of Covid 19” and “The Winter’s Tale”), I found myself flicking through the pages… and coming across reminders and a flavour of what those days were like.
I found the whole experience quite poignant and sobering.
It’s only some two-and-a-half since the start of the pandemic (or at least since it started to affect us in the UK) and yet it made me realise how many of those ‘little details’ I’d already almost forgotten.
It made me realise that in, say 10 years’ time, our recollections of a time that had such a devastating effect on so many lives, will be even ‘fuzzier’. Will our grandchildren still be able to recall the effects the pandemic had on their school lives? Will we remember those awful ‘no hugging’ days of isolation? The closed pubs, cafés and restaurants? The early morning walks? Those wonderful sun-filled March days of 2020? The need for ‘social distancing’? The pre-vaccine days and the post-vaccine days? All the government lies (I assume that all the various Inquiries will have reported by that time!!?)? All those lives lost?
Only time will tell.

august-september 2023 books…

After The Funeral (Agatha Christie): Once again, I opted for yet another Christie mystery. This one (first published in 1953) involving a family gathering in a vast Victorian country house (of course!) after the funeral of Richard Abernethie, the master of the house (whose death raised all sorts of questions in the first place). Family members were keen to discover how much their brother/uncle had bequeathed to each of them. There was little love lost between family members and then, on top of everything else, one of the family members is murdered. The family solicitor works alongside the local police inspector and tries to pacify growing family feud matters, with mixed results. He ends up contacting an old friend, a certain Hercule Poirot (of course!)… who inevitably resolves matters! Christie continues to impress me with her imaginative writing and intriguing plots; she’s very clever at raising suspicions and convincing you that you ‘know’ who the murderer is… and then, of course, you change your mind (a number of times in my case!).
In The Pines (Paul Scraton): This rather lovely novella (plus accompanying photographs by Eymelt Sehmer, created using a 170-year-old technique of collodion wet plate photography) recounts an unnamed narrator’s lifetime relationship with the forest he lives close to… fragmented stories and reflections, blurred details and sharp focus of memory about the people who live or lived close by, the ruined buildings the forest contains, the pathways through it, his own recollections, the fables and how the forest has been affected by creeping development. At times, it felt like being told stories around a campfire… all somewhat haunting and rather beautiful.
Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 (Cho Nam-Joo): This Korean bestseller chronicles the everyday struggle of women against endemic sexism. It combines fiction with extensive background references to the position of women in Korean society. It contrasts the stark, depressing differences in how males and females are raised, taught and treated in the workplace. At school, boys eat first… she suffers sexual harassment and victim blaming… in the workplace, she has first-hand experience of the gender pay gap (and the lack of opportunities for promotion). Jiyoung, she is 33, with a one-year-old child. Her life is unremarkable, except that she has begun to take on the personalities of other people… and while performing the uncompensated, costly work of motherhood, she is horrified to hear herself denigrated as a parasitic “mum-roach”. She begins showing signs of dissociative identity disorder - she starts acting like the different women in her life. The book’s back cover neatly sums up Kim Jiyoung’s character and story: she “is a girl born to a mother whose in-laws wanted a boy”; “is a sister made to share a room while her brother gets one of his own”; “is a model employee who get overlooked for promotion”; “is a wife who gives up her career and independence for a life of domesticity”; “has started to act strangely”; “is depressed”; “is mad”; “is her own woman”; “is every woman”. I found it quite a harrowing, disquieting read… but a very powerful one.
The Provincial Lady In Wartime (EM Delafield): This is the last of the ‘Provincial Lady Diaries’ (first published in 1940). It’s a rather wonderful account, for a certain breed of English Woman, of the first three months of ‘war’ – a time when they all rushed up to London to do ‘war work’ (and before any actual air raids were happening). They find themselves in trousers and ‘slacks’ for the first time and there’s a sense of excitement about breaking free from home and serving their country. In the event, certainly for the brief course of this diary, the vast majority spend their time ‘Standing By’, awaiting a call to action. Everyone is looking for a ‘job to do’, but few have their plans fulfilled. Our ‘provincial lady’ desperately seeks a suitable post ‘of national importance’ in the Ministry of Information, the BBC or some such place… but, for the time being at least, has to satisfy herself with voluntary work in no.1 Canteen next to the Adelphi! As with the previous diaries, it’s beautifully and amusingly written… but, at the same time, a reminder of the responses and the sacrifices made by people at the outbreak of the war… and the gas masks, refugees, air raid drills, ARPs, rationing, the wireless, registration cards and the like. I feel rather sad that my time with the provincial lady’s diaries has come to an end.
A Breath Of French Air (HE Bates): One of Bates’ ‘Darling Buds of May’ novels (first published in 1959; our copy priced 2s6d). I picked it off our bookshelves in between waiting for other books to arrive or be collected from the shop. I’d seen some of the television adaptations. The Larkins family pack themselves into the Rolls and make their way on holiday to France… with all the predictable issues of language, food, weather, in/appropriate behaviour, wealth and farce. Light, entertaining and very easy reading (but not quite my cup of tea).  

hockney...

Our family has had something of a passion for Hockney’s art for several years now (eg. #hoctober: Hannah has been posting Hockney-inspired images each October on her social media pages).
So, you won’t be surprised that Moira and I spent Monday evening watching the David Hockney documentary on Sky Arts. It proved to be a rather lovely 90 minutes of television. It was the first in a four-part series - conversations between Hockney and Bragg, filmed over 12 months in both London and at the artist’s Normandy studio, plus archival footage and commentary from distinguished ‘Hockney fans’ allowing a chance to review his work over the past SEVEN decades (he’s now 86 and I think he sold his first painting – of his father – for £10 in 1955)(I wonder where it is now?)*.
Remarkably, he’s had more than 400 exhibitions over the course his lifetime (including 3 solo shows in 2023!) and, of course, he hasn’t finished yet because he shows no sign of slowing down. It was a reminder of the incredibly range of his work – which includes designing stage sets for opera, photography, stained glass, drawings and paintings… using a whole range of different technologies and traditional techniques.
Leaves me a little fazed by just how boring predictable I’ve become in MY old age!
Well worth watching if you can.

* a subsequent documentary revealed that Hockney bought the painting back several years later.