september-october 2024 books…

Wide Sargasso Sea (Jean Rhys): I remember starting this book (first published in 1966) many, many years ago but gave up after only a few pages. I recently picked up a copy while we were staying at Alice’s and read it in a couple of days. The novel, initially set in Jamaica, opens a short while after the Slavery Abolition Act 1833 abolished slavery in the British Empire in August 1834. It’s a ‘postcolonial novel’ that serves as sort of a hypothetical prequel to Jane Eyre, the novel details the tragic decline of a young woman, Antoinette Cosway, who is sold into marriage to an English gentleman, Mr Rochester. Rhys portrays Cosway amidst a society so driven by hatred, so skewed in its sexual relations, that it can literally drive a woman out of her mind. It’s a tough, compelling read.
The Matisse Stories (AS Byatt): My friend Tony recommended this book (good man!). The book (first published in 1993) consists of three short stories and pay homage to the artist Matisse. Each of them offer verbal portraits of apparently ordinary lives driven by pain and disquiet. At first, they begin on a deceptively simple, almost cosy way: a middle-aged woman having her hair cut; a mother trying to work at home while she waits for the doctor to check her son's chicken pox; and a woman meeting a colleague for lunch at the Chinese restaurant she regularly patronises. But darker forces emerge or, as one reviewer put it: “Byatt is adept at rendering disintegration in a series of more or less macabre, violent and comical set-pieces”. I really enjoyed the book and thought Byatt’s writing was rather beautiful.
The Outrun (Amy Liptrot): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup selection (which I first read in 2020 – and decided it was one of my ‘books of the year’)(I haven’t changed my mind). It’s a beautiful, lyrical, brutally-honest memoir. At the age of 30, Liptrot finds herself ‘washed up’ back home on Orkney. The previous ten years of her life had been an utter nightmare; she left Orkney, went south, ended up in London and started a downward spiral of hellish alcohol addiction. She lost jobs, a boyfriend she loved, her health and self-respect – and ended up in rehab, with her psyche teetering on the edge of the abyss (I couldn’t see how anyone could survive what she had been through). So, Liptrot returned home (she briefly tried a couple of times before without success). She was alcohol-free, but an absolute mess. She retreated to the ‘outrun’ (the name given to a rough pasture on her parents’ farm) and, very slowly, thanks to her amazing resolve and determination, her life is gradually restored and re-formed. For a time, she works on her father’s farm then gets a job on a survey of the endangered corncrake (which immediately set me back with my own memories of the corncrakes of Iona!), and eventually she retreats to the tiny island of Papa Westray, off Orkney. There she walks the hills, goes wild swimming, tracks the wildlife, stares at the skies and discovers a new meaning for her life. Thanks to the internet, she constantly learns new things – astronomy, rock formations, history and the like… and, crucially (and wonderfully), she’s remained sober for two years (and resolved to being sober the rest of her life). She writes beautifully. It’s an incredibly brave, eloquent and hopeful book. I loved it all over again… and, now, it’s been made into a film (starring one of my favourite actors, Saoirse Ronan) – which, much to my huge relief, doesn’t let the book down!
Raffles (EW Hornung): First published in 1899 (my copy: 1950). Wikipedia describes Raffles as a ”gentleman thief” - living at the Albany, a prestigious address in London, playing cricket for the Gentlemen of England and supporting himself by carrying out ingenious burglaries. Raffles has Harry "Bunny" Manders – a former schoolmate to help him. It’s a bit like Holmes and Watson in reverse. Fascinating in theory, but I actually found this book of short stories unremarkable, not particularly clever and, frankly, rather boring.
Akenfield (Ronald Blythe): I’ve started ‘gently’ reading Blythe’s wonderful book ‘Next To Nature’ (a year’s observations, gossip and stories compiled about his Akenfield village home on the Suffolk/Essex border), but have been determined to try to read it slowly - on a monthly basis (January, February etc) in the way the book has been set out. But I also felt somewhat frustrated not to be able to continue to immerse myself in Blythe’s wonderful prose… so ended up reading this book (first published in 1969) about his account/portrait of modern rural life in his village, compiled during the course of 1967 – its inhabitants (ex-soldiers, farm labourers, district nurses, teachers etc etc), their stories, their experiences, their hardships and their joys. It’s a beautiful, fascinating and frequently moving book. Highly recommended.

the outrun...

I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Nora Fingscheidt’s film based on Amy Liptrot’s 2018 book ‘The Outrun’ – an unflinching adaptation of her personal story of alcohol addiction.
I first read the book in 2020 (and I’ve just finished re-reading it - as it happens to have been chosen as my Storysmith bookgroup’s next book), absolutely loved it and just hoped that the film wouldn’t come as a huge let-down. Thankfully, it didn’t!
It was excellent. Obviously, in the manner of such matters, there were things both added to and omitted from the film… but that didn’t fundamentally detract from it.
After a decade away in London, 29-year-old Rona (played by the brilliant Saoirse Ronan) returns home to the Orkney Islands. By this time, she was alcohol-free, but an absolute mess after her pitiful experiences in London – where she’d lost jobs, a boyfriend she loved, her health and her self-respect… and ended up in re-hab, with her psyche teetering on the edge of the abyss. She retreats to the ‘outrun’ (the name given to a rough pasture on her parents’ farm) and, very slowly, thanks to her amazing resolve and determination, her life is gradually restored and re-formed. The film successfully portrays the scary hopelessness of addiction alongside the joyful beauty of nature.
It’s a powerful, unflinching, scary, eloquent… but, ultimately, hopeful and uplifting story which has been impressively adapted for cinema audiences.
I absolutely loved it.
Photo: Saoirse Ronan and Amy Liptrot (from Liptrot’s FB page) taken at the film’s premiere on Orkney.
PS: When I lived on Iona for 2 months in 2012, I regularly used to hear Corncrakes (you need to have seen the film!) - and even saw one of them on two occasions!

lee…

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this morning (yes, I know!) to see Ellen Kuras’s film about the model-turned-war-photographer Lee Miller.
It’s a tough, but compelling, watch…
Kate Winslet is brilliant in the role of the American photographer Miller, working as a war correspondent for Vogue during WW2. Along with her friend and colleague, Life magazine photographer David Scherman (Andy Samberg), she was one of the very first civilians to bear witness to the atrocities of the Nazi concentration camps at Buchenwald and Dachau.
I was aware of Miller’s photographic career and legacy, but didn’t know that her son only discovered her file of photographs hidden away in the loft of their home after her death in 1977 (over recent years, Miller’s son and granddaughter have endeavoured to keep her memory alive).
There were some scenes that I felt were a bit ‘exaggerated’… but (what do I know!) were vindicated in the closing credits – which showed ‘stills’ from the film alongside photographs taken by Miller that absolutely endorsed what had actually happened.
It’s a remarkable, sobering film… brilliantly acted and depressingly highlighting the exclusion of women/attitudes towards women during WW2.
PS: Winslet chain-smoked CONTINUOUSLY during the film… I just hope they weren’t ‘proper’ fags or else the insurance company might have to pay out bigtime!!

the songs of joni michell at st george’s…

Joni Mitchell has been my musical idol for over 66 years.
I love her music with a passion and many of the songs take me back to my early college days… but, sadly, I’ve never seen her perform ‘live’ (one of my biggest regrets) – and, clearly, that’s not going to change.
Last November, she celebrated her 80^th birthday and there was a sell-out concert (curated by Lail Arad) given in her honour at London’s Roundhouse… and this led to demands for further shows/UK tour.
Last night’s concert at St George’s was one of the resulting gigs.
Ru first spotted the concert blurb a few months ago and so it was agreed that it would be lovely for our Bristol-based daughters, Ru+Hannah, plus Moira and me to get together for an evening’s musical celebration (they’re lovely like that! xx).

We didn’t know any of the female-dominated line-up (apparently all celebrated singer-songwriters in their own right - Jesca Hoop, Lail Arad, Olivia Chaney, Rachael Dadd and Julia Turner) and so it could have been a very disappointing evening… but, fortunately, it wasn’t. It’s obviously nowhere near the same as seeing Mitchell perform the songs herself, but the evening proved to be an excellent celebration of her iconic music (and St George’s was full).
Lots of musical memories were duly evoked and, fortunately from my perspective, most of my ‘absolute favourite songs’ were performed.
Soft man that I am, I was close to tears when they sang ‘Both Sides Now’ to conclude the show.
A lovely evening.
Photo: Final song performed by all the artists plus members of a local choir.

last home game of the season…

It’s Gloucestershire’s last home game of the season and so I went along to the first day of what, supposedly, is a four-day match against Sussex. After their weekend exploits, Glocs might be well be T20 Champions but, back in the County Championship, they continued to struggle in the traditional form of the game.
Winning the toss and batting first on a beautiful, sunny day, Glocs were all out for a paltry 109 by 2.15pm. Sussex (who are currently top of Division 2) responded pretty effectively and ended the first day 149-4 wickets.
For part of the morning session, I found myself sitting next to one of the Sussex bowling coaches, James Kirtley (former Sussex and England pace bowler). I hadn’t a clue who he was(!) and it was only in the course of our conversation that I discovered his role in the Sussex set-up… but it was absolutely fascinating listening to him. He talked about all the detailed analysis that they undertook to ascertain detailed information about a batter’s weaknesses and strengths (REALLY detailed stuff, like batter X had been out LBW in 12% of his innings; or 18% of his dismissals were catches to wicket-keeper or slips etc etc) and how all the bowlers (and fielders) were coached to be acutely aware of such stuff. Even as we watched the cricket, he pointed out one of the weaknesses of a Glocs batter… and, sure enough, he ended up being caught in exactly the way the coach had predicted! Obviously, I passed on my own advice to him based on YEARS of experience… I feel sure he was grateful.
Once again, I don’t think this Championship game will last the scheduled four days!
Photo: The ground wasn’t exactly full to bursting as the morning session got underway!

september 2024 books…

Letters To My Grandchildren (Tony Benn): I seem to be going through a phase of re-reading books (I first read this in 2012; first published in 2009). An encouraging book – idealistic, inevitably political and hugely affectionate – comprising 39 letters to his grandchildren (together with a lovely postscript “The Daddy Shop” – an invented story of his). When he wrote it, his ten grandchildren ranged from 31 to 13 years in age (which means they now must be 46 to 28!); when I first read it in 2012, our six grandchildren ranged from 6 to 1 years of age (and are now 18 to 12). Even if you didn’t altogether agree with his political views, you can’t help but appreciate his constant curiosity and zest for life. Some really insightful stuff – especial about war, political power and the environment. He died in 2014, aged 88… a good man.
Wilt On High (Tom Sharpe): It’s been a very long time since I first read this – probably approaching 40 years (first published in 1984)! I’ve read a lot of Sharpe’s books over the years and this one is fairly typical in its completely over-the-top, farcical and hysterical humour (with a fair portion of vulgarity and sex thrown into the mix!). Henry Wilt is a Liberal Studies lecturer at the Fenland College of Arts and Technology; he’s married to Eva and they have gifted, quarrelling quad daughters. There’s talk of drug dealing at the Tech (a student is found dead) and, completely unfairly, Wilt becomes the target of suspicion. He also, for his sins, teaches weekly at the local prison and at the nearby US airbase; alarm bells sound in both organisations and Wilt is at the centre of the resulting investigations… Inventive and frequently very funny.
Why I Wake Early (Mary Oliver): Another re-read (I first read this in 2016)… which I’m using as part of my early morning routine (Oliver and I both wake up early!). I love Oliver’s poetry. She has a natural gift for conveying the wonder of the ordinary… although she focusses on ‘creatures’ a little/much too much for my taste! But I do love the fact that she sees (and celebrates) things that most people might never notice. Looking, seeing, reflecting, celebrating the simple things in life. Another beautiful book.
Vanessa Bell: Portrait Of The Bloomsbury Artist (Frances Spalding): Yet another re-read (previously read in July 2021)… but I’ve been looking at her art quite a lot recently. In fact, there’s been an exhibition of her work at The Courtauld during the Summer/early Autumn – which, sadly, I might not be able to get to. I absolutely loved this excellent biography (first published in 1983 and re-published in 2016). I’ve read a lot of Bloomsbury-related stuff over recent years and been particularly drawn to the paintings by Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. This book provides fascinating insights into the work and lives of both of them (and the Bloomsbury group) - with Bell becoming something of a mother figure for the whole group and a catalyst for much of what the group came to represent. She walked an emotional tightrope in her relationships with her husband (Clive Bell), ex-lover (Roger Fry) and lover (Duncan Grant) and enjoyed a bohemian lifestyle of sexual freedom, fierce independence and honesty. As a painter, Bell was as radical as her sister Virginia Woolf the writer (Woolf described Bell as ‘the Saint’ for her practical sense of duty and organisation). The book has been compiled from letters and diaries (without letters, how much would have been lost!) and full of amusing and intriguing details. This extract sums up Bell beautifully: “Vanessa continued to follow an independent course in life with a sense of purpose that others envied. Vanessa ‘takes her own line in London life’, Virginia (Woolf) observed; ‘ refuses to be a celebrated painted; buys no clothes; sees whom she likes as she likes; and altogether leads an indomitable sensible and very sublime existence’.” A wonderful, intriguing biography… which I really enjoyed re-reading.
Bullets For The Bridegroom (David Dodge): Another Penguin crime novel bought at the Oxfam bookshop (first published in 1948)(apparently it’s the third ‘Whit’ Whitney book?). Set in Reno, Nevada at the end of WW2 (between VE and VJ Day), James and Kitty Whitney have just got married and are on honeymoon, but find themselves sucked into the somewhat scary world of espionage, a questionable night-club/casino, disguised government agents, mistaken identities… and murder (the person who was going to marry them gets murdered). The FBI are desperately trying to track a secret wireless station. It’s a pacey, sinister tale which builds in intensity and ends in a large-scale gunfight involving enemy agents but, for me, I found the plot rather unconvincing and disappointing (I could imagine the author fancying it becoming a blockbuster film!), the storyline dated (perhaps not surprisingly!) and, ultimately, predictable.    

school service corps (in the early 1960s)... but not for me.

Bizarrely, I recently came across a photograph of an earth mound/retaining wall structure they use on shooting ranges and it immediately conjured up memories of my time at grammar school in Birmingham. We had our own firing range(!) in the 'playground' - consisting of a high brick wall, with battered earth in front to house the targets (we used the firing range as one of our playground ‘goalmouths’!), together with its own fully-equipped armoury on school premises (complete with rifles, bayonets and bullets)!!
I was born just four years after the end of the war and it’s easy to forget how much impact the war still had in those years of my youth.
The school’s cadet corps (Army/Navy/RAF) was taken EXTREMELY seriously; school masters used to wear their service uniforms once a week on service corps days. Each year, the school’s cadet corps had a large parade – they marched (complete with a full band of drummers and buglers) from the school to the sports ground off Wood Lane, three miles away… and they were always led by the Divinity master (and Army officer!) who rode a huge white horse (I know!).
There was an expectation for all boys to sign up for the Cadet Corps and I think most probably did. But NOT our Form. I was in the ‘Remove Stream’ at school – we were in the ‘fast stream’ earmarked to take our ‘O’ Levels in 4 years instead of 5. When it came to the time for signing up (in 1962/63, when we were perhaps 14 years old?), absolutely NO ONE in our class volunteered to ‘join up’. The assigned ‘Cadet Corps Masters’ were incredulous… “never in the history of the school has this ever happened” (or words to that effect). I recall the ‘Top Dog’ Corps Master coming to lecture us… it was our DUTY… we were the school’s future Cadet Corps OFFICERS for goodness sake (implying that, as the ‘bright’ ones, we were required to pull the others ‘into shape’). It had absolutely no effect… none of us joined up. 

It’s something I look back on with a certain pride… you might think our actions were inappropriate, unwarranted or misguided but, like the climate change school pupils of today, I think we were making our own small statement… and, naïve as it might be, I’m very pleased that we did.

august 2024 books...

Redhead By The Side Of The Road (Anne Tyler): This novel is essentially about ‘roads not taken’… fortysomething Micah runs his own, very modest, ‘Tech Hermit’ business - fixing computer problems for old ladies in the neighbourhood and has a second day-job as apartment caretaker and general odd-job man. He lives rent-free, alone, keeps himself to himself, goes for early morning runs, maintains an unchanging cleaning regime and has a long-term relationship with a teacher girlfriend. Two things happen: the disaffected, fatherless teenage son of Micah’s high-school sweetheart turns up on his doorstep (convinced that Micah might actually be his real father) and his girlfriend is threatened with eviction. Unthinkingly, Micah jokes that she could always sleep in her car and, unsurprisingly, she declares the relationship over… It’s a perceptive novel about someone who has opted out and persistently failed to engage, who’s made a habit of walking away from almost everything. I enjoyed it.
The Summer Book (Tove Jansson): I first read this book 21 years ago (first published in 1972; Jansson died in 2001, aged 86) and thought it was time I revisited it… before the summer ends! An elderly artist and her 6-year-old granddaughter (Sophia) while away a summer together on a tiny island off the gulf of Finland. What I’d forgotten was that the book is a novel (it actually reads like a narrative/log of their time together). Jansson wrote the book a year after her mother’s death and she drew on the things that were most precious to her (her graphic designer/cartoonist mother, her young niece Sophia, and the island home that she built with her brother - Sophia’ father - where she spent so many summers of her life. Jansson spent 5 months each year on the island from 1964-1991). It’s an account of the understated love between an old woman and her grandchild… and it’s quite, quite beautiful, wise and frequently funny. I loved immersing myself into their little world (their candid, sometimes argumentative, conversations between them; the grandmother’s infinite patience; the smart, demanding grandchild; living on a small island). As I finished the book, I was struck by the fact that, when I first read it, I wasn’t a grandfather (now there are 6 grandchildren!)… and just wished that I had the wisdom, patience and humour of the novel’s grandmother! I absolutely loved re-reading this book.
Devotions (Mary Oliver): I love Mary Oliver’s writing. This is a collection of her poetry dating from 1963 to 2015. I first read it at the beginning of 2023 and have spent the past few months gently re-reading it on a daily basis. In many ways – with her beautiful, simple observations of nature and life – I’ve found that Oliver’s poetry has become a treasured companion on my own journey through life (Not all her poetry appeals to me, but I’ve been particularly drawn to her reflective poems written when she was in her mid-/late-seventies) and a constant reminder that we live a truly beautiful world which so many often take for granted.
Ex-Wife (Ursula Parrott): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup selection (“re-discovered gems” from the list of Faber Editions), first published in 1929 – but never before now in the UK. It’s set in New York in 1924; Patricia (the story’s beautiful narrator in her very early 20s) and Peter (handsome husband) live as a ‘thoroughly modern married couple’ – both drink and smoke, both work, both believe in ‘love-outside-marriage’ (except when it doesn’t suit Peter). He ends up pushing for a divorce and she is forced to forge a new life for herself. At a time in the US when the stigma of divorce was fading, the book presents a picture of a ‘new woman’ - one who pursues new vocational, economic, and romantic freedoms. Pat spends her days chasing a career, while her nights were a boozy cocktail of restaurants, speakeasies and sexual encounters… but it’s also a frequently sad story about how women gained some freedoms, but lost other things. It’s a remarkable, entertaining novel that’s a heady mix about marriage, divorce, love affairs, beautiful clothes, lots of alcohol and scandal in the jazz age. I very much enjoyed it (despite its sad encounters) and found it remarkable to reconcile that the book had been written nearly 100 years ago.
Waxwork (Peter Lovesey): A Victorian crime fiction novel I picked up from the Oxfam Bookshop (first published in 1978). The cover describes it as a “Sergeant Cribb Adventure” (surely they could have done better than that!?). DS Cribb (frustratingly for him, he’d remained a sergeant for the past 10 years while some of his contemporaries had, to his mind, ‘earned’ promotions by using the manipulating the system for their own ends) probes the baffling case of an confessed murderess as she awaits, unflustered, the hangman. Is she really guilty? If not, why confess? Then the Home Office is sent a photograph that casts doubt on the confession. Cribb is called in and his investigations produce nothing to ease the minds of the authorities. As he plunges deeper into the relationships and history of the small group connected with the murder, he becomes increasingly suspicious that something very different had actually occurred. Clever plot with cunning twists.

pericles at the rsc...

On Monday evening we went to see the RSC’s production of Shakespeare’s ‘Pericles’ at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon (featuring ‘our’ Felix in the roles of Antiochus and Pander). It’s Tamara Harvey’s first production as the Royal Shakespeare Company’s co-artistic director.
It’s a play that isn’t performed all that frequently (it was last staged by the RSC 18 years ago) – perhaps because some believe that it’s only partly by Shakespeare? The plot is complicated and, in somewhat typical ‘Shakespearian’ style, includes shipwrecks, death at sea, royalty, incest, tyranny, three father-daughter relationships, unrecognised relatives, tragedy, humour and pirates!
I thought the play made a rather plodding start (the early acts are generally ascribed to George Wilkins – which might explain things - and not helped, again in my humble opinion(!), by some rather uninspired choreography), but developed impressively subsequently. Alfred Enoch (Pericles) is quite brilliant as Pericles and, as you would imagine at the RSC, the rest of the cast – in their bright pinks, purples and azures - combine to provide impressive support.
I always love going to plays at the RSC (I adore both the Royal Shakespeare and Swan theatres) and this production was no exception.

july-august 2024 books…

Alive, Alive Oh! (Diana Athill): I’m a great admirer of Athill’s writing and have read several of her books. In this one, written in her 97^th year (first published in 2015), she recalls the moments in her life that have sustained her… from vivid memories of her 1920s childhood; her experience of WW2 to stories of travel; her loves; the miscarriage, aged 43, that almost ended her life; and candid, often very funny, reflections of what it’s like to be old.
Doppelganger (Naomi Klein): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (theme: non-fiction female authors). Klein began writing this book (several years ago) after people were constantly mistaking her for the conspiracist, Naomi Wolf, but she ends up weaving her way (in the words of book reviewer Paula Lacey) through the world of “anti-vaxxers, wellness influencers and alt-right demagogues, attempting to make sense of the conspiratorial turn in contemporary politics”.Much of what Klein describes was entirely foreign to me (no surprises there!). So much stuff was that initially over my head… QR codes, Gettr, Rumble, Mirror World, diagonalists, Shadow Lands, personal branding?? She clearly regards Steve Bannon and Trump as major ‘concerns’ (HER descriptions are somewhat stronger as she delves into the ecosystem of Wolf, Bannon and Trump!). Things have become far more complicated than in the days of my youth. How the internet has fostered misinformation. The problem in this age of big corporations, climate crisis, Covid lockdowns, online influencers and collapsed trust in mainstream politics and media is that everybody has their suspicions that they are being lied to and manipulated (and, of course, they’re right!). It’s a long book (some 350 pages of small font) and I wonder how many of my bookgroup will have finished it in the month between our gatherings - some of us, (ie. me!) don’t have jobs to go to? It’s wide-ranging in the subjects covered; it’s insightful, academic and complex in content… and, frankly, pretty scary as far as the measures that are already ‘available’ to distort our knowledge, understanding of the world and, ultimately, our politics. Towards the end of the book, she talks about how we might find our way back from the current despair – but I wasn’t altogether convinced! It’s an impressive, compelling, disturbing book.
The Island Of Missing Trees (Elif Shafak): This is our next Blokes’ bookgroup book. Published in 2021, it’s tale of love and division set between postcolonial Cyprus and London, exploring themes of generational trauma and belonging… through different timelines. The story relates to the divided island (the Turkish-controlled north of the island and the Greek-controlled south) and the conflicts of the 1950/60s (I can recall a handful of Greek Cypriot children moved to my junior school in the late 1950s), which eventually resulted in the Turkish invasion of 1974. Kostas and Defne Kazantzakis are young lovers in a painfully divided Cyprus – one Greek and Christian, the other Turkish and Muslim. They subsequently move to England, but continue to pay the emotional legacy of the past. The story continues partly through the eyes of their 16 year-old daughter Ada (who has never been to Cyprus)… and also features a fig tree as one of the book’s main narrators! It’s a love story set against the anger, divisions, hate and brutality of conflict. It’s about immigration, lost lives, memories and coping with the aftermath of history. It reminded me of the awful happenings in the ongoing, present-day Israel-Palestine – with all of its similar brutal legacies. In his review of the book, Robert Macfarlane describes the novel “that rings with… compassion for the overlooked and the under-loved, for those whom history has exiled, excluded or separated”… which I think is a far description. It’s an important, compelling book about generational trauma and I enjoyed reading it. Did I love it? Well, not quite… I found its magical-realist style somewhat off-putting and over-sentimental at times for my taste (and I’m someone who is easily ‘moved’!).
The Universal Christ (Richard Rohr): Many of my ‘religious’ friends regard Rohr as something of a champion when it comes to ‘unlocking’ faith issues. Personally, despite having read a few books of his over the years, he’s never quite ‘done it’ for me. In my ongoing spiritual wilderness (and having listened in to a recent Proost podcast), I decided to give Rohr ‘another go’ and bought this book (second-hand and full of underlined texts from a previous reader!). In it, he explores the following: “We may feel we know who Jesus was, but who was Christ?”. Rohr is a decent, wise, intelligent, articulate man and I actually found sections of the book quite helpful (and I loved that he FREQUENTLY used the words “in my opinion” when making comment - I SO often feel that I’m being preached at in the ‘spiritual’ books I read… or by things that many people say to me). Inevitably, I suppose (well, for me, in my spiritual wilderness), the book is written from the perspective of a Christian ‘believer’ and I frequently found myself shaking my head and saying: “but, hang on, that assumes X or Y…”. But, hey, I was re-reading Mary Oliver’s beautiful poetry book “Devotions” at the same time as this Rohr book… and found that they frequently seemed to be expressing similar things… which, as a huge lover of Oliver’s writing, must say something positive about my attitude towards Rohr’s work.
Call For The Dead (John Le Carré): First published in 1961, this was Le Carré’s first published novel and, obviously therefore, the first to feature secret agent George Smiley. I still find it odd that he was allowed to publish this book while he was still working in British Intelligence (but what do I know?). A Foreign Office civil servant has killed himself and Smiley realises that the powers that be will set him up to take the blame. This is a tense, clever spy novel… which gives a hint of the rather wonderful espionage thrillers Le Carré will go on to write.  

john hopkins at beacon hall…

Last night (thanks to my three lovely daughters who gave me gig vouchers for my birthday), I went along to see Jon Hopkins in concert at the Bristol Beacon (formerly Colston Hall). It was the first time I’d been there since the Beacon’s extensive renovations. I’d seen Hopkins perform several years ago when he was teamed up with King Creosote back (in 2011, I think) and again when they came to the beautiful isle of Iona in 2012, when they performed in the tiny library there (I was volunteering on the island with the Iona Community for two months at the time). The seating capacity was probably just 35 and it was a sell-out gig(!). It proved to be a memorable, entertaining concert – in part because they’d spent the afternoon at the Argyll Hotel being plied with countless triple gin-and-tonics (which continued right through the performance)!  
Last night’s concert was VERY different… 

Hopkins’ music has ‘moved on’ somewhat from those days (understatement!) – including working with Brian Eno and Coldplay – to become an acknowledged electronic artist and producer boasting an output (quoting from the Beacon’s blurb) “that flows from rugged techno to transcendent choral music, solo acoustic piano and psychedelic ambient, the Mercury Prize nominated Immunity (2013) and the Grammy-nominated Singularity (2018), two intense, ambitious albums of spiritually-minded techno and ambient tracks, were among the decade’s most lauded electronic albums”.
Firstly, I was probably the oldest person there. It was non-stop; high volume; big bass; wall of sound; massive colour (lighting engineers seem to be the new gods); enthusiastic, throbbing audience… and Hopkins on his own at the front manipulating everything on his synthesizer keyboard/drum machine (or whatever it is he uses!). I have to admit, it was the first such gig that I’d attended (Hopkins has travelled a long, long way in the last 12 years or so – without me following his journey). Being an old codger, I spent an awful of the time wondering what the high volume was doing to the eardrums of the people standing up (very) close to the amplifiers!!
Did I enjoy it? Well, yes, I absolutely did… even though the ‘music’ was not my sort of thing. I found it something of a mesmerising experience. Simon+Garfunkel it was not!!
PS: It was very good to see ‘Big Jeff’ (a Bristol music icon who regularly attends over 300 gigs a year) in the ‘front row’ of the audience… despite all his health problems after being badly burnt in a domestic fire three years ago.
PPS: It was also lovely to meet up briefly with Stu and Iris before the concert started (we’d all booked to see Hopkins, completely oblivious that we’d all be attending)… they were standing, while I was sitting(!) in a somewhat cramped seat on the ‘Lower Tier’ gallery.
Photo: Some ‘mash-up’ pics from last night.

chasing the sun…

I went along to the Watershed last night (together with great friends Sarah and Dave) to watch a film about cycling. Nothing to do with the Tour de France or professional bike racing… this was simply a documentary film about lots of cyclists endeavouring to ride 205 miles coast-to-coast (UK South event: Thames Estuary to Weston-super-Mare) in a day – the longest/summer solstice day.
It’s NOT about speed or being first across the line. It’s about how much of a land it’s possible to see, to feel, by bicycle in a single day (in 1973 an American university professor set out to discover the most energy efficient creature on earth… and he concluded that it was a human being on a bicycle!).
It’s now an annual event – and there are other similar coast-to-coast rides organised on the same day in Italy, Scotland and Ireland (with others being planned elsewhere). Ollie Moore (the person who first came up with the idea) views the event as giving people an opportunity to get away from their screens and daily clutter and creating a “space for thinking” and re-attuning the senses to being surrounded by nature and allowing individuals to see things they wouldn't normally see. Moore was inspired by Richard Long, the English sculptor/land artist – who attended last night’s film (Long would document his walks through nature by opening up his senses, drinking in the sights, sounds and sensations he was feeling on his bike or his walks). It’s also about the environment and ‘saving the planet’.
The film has interviews with people who have discovered (or re-discovered) the health and environmental benefits of cycling in their own cities, towns or villages… and many who are passionate advocates for ensuring greater provision of dedicated cycling space on our heavily-trafficked streets.
The film includes rather wonderful footage of (and conversations with) a couple of cyclists participating in the coast-to-coast ride – a woman who had never previously contemplated cycling any such sort of distance and a man who talked about how cycling had massively helped his mental health.
It’s a passionate, joyful film and I hugely enjoyed it.  

june 2024 books...

Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad): This our next ‘Blokes’ bookgroup book. It was first published in 1899 and tells the story of Marlow, a seaman and wanderer, who recounts his physical and psychological journey up the heart of the River Congo in search of an infamous ivory trader, Kurtz. It’s about the Victorian world of adventure, exploration, discovery… and exploitation. It’s a tough read in more ways than one – there’s a sense of the physical and mental struggle of battling through the jungle, but also of the various powers-that-be exploiting Africa for its riches and resources while leaving little or nothing to the Africans who are labouring under them. There are lots of shameful references of the native Africans as being ‘savages’ (indeed, Kurtz himself had been working on behalf of the ‘International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs’). Through Marlow, Conrad shows the horrors of colonialism and concludes that the Europeans, not the Africans, are the true savages.
Politics On The Edge (Rory Stewart): This will probably turn out to be my ‘Book of the Year’. I’ve long been an admirer of his writing (his book ‘The Marches’ is a particular favourite) and his observations (political or otherwise). You will probably recall that Stewart is a former MP and Minister who was sacked from the Conservative Party by Prime Minister Johnson (for voting against the government). It’s a compelling political autobiography – a brilliant, uncompromising, unfailingly honest portrait of the realities of life in and around Westminster. It’s well-written and hugely entertaining (and somewhat depressing) account of dysfunctional government. Again and again, one is reminded that, because of the farcical ‘first-past-the-post’ electoral system, the arrogance and self-interest of politicians (and in many cases, the dishonesty) seems to be the fundamental aim. I could quote endlessly from the book, but will limit myself to the following two extracts: “I hated how politicians used the pompous grandeur of the Palace of Westminster to pretend to a power they did not have, and to take credit for things they had not done”… and “Nine years in politics had been a shocking education in lack of seriousness. I had begun by noticing how grotesquely unqualified so many of us were for the offices we were given. I had found, working for Liz Truss, a culture that prized campaigning over careful governing, opinion polls over detailed policy debates, announcements over implementation. I felt that we had collectively failed to respond adequately to every major challenge of the past 15 years: the financial crisis, the collapse of the liberal ‘global order’, public despair, and the polarisation of Brexit”. I can’t recommend this brilliant book highly enough.
Foul+Fair (Steve Couch): Author Steve is a good friend from our old days when we lived in Thame, Oxfordshire and I was honoured (and very surprised) to be asked to give my thoughts on the book in its pre-published form (no pressure then!). Key characters are an English teacher whose career is in tatters, but who also coaches a boys’ football team and a single parent police officer who is worried about her career and her son. They both struggle with trying to balance ‘doing the right thing’ and ‘getting the right result’. As a former Sunday League player and as someone who has watched one of his grandsons play in their local side on a number of occasions (and also working as a Deputy House of Head at a comprehensive school after retiring from my architectural practice!), I really enjoyed re-reading the final form of this book (350 pages in 1.5 days gives you a sense of how readable/page-turning this book is!). The story felt entirely authentic. I ‘recognised’ many of the characters and situations… not to mention the ‘overzealous’ team managers, embarrassing loud-mouthed parents, intimidating pupils and the career-obsessed teachers! Very enjoyable.
Late Cuts (Vic Marks): These days, we regard Vic Marks as being one of cricket’s ‘elder statesmen’ but, in my first architectural job in Oxford in the mid-1970s, I recall spending many summer lunchtimes watching him (and the likes of Imran Khan) play at University Parks… and now realise that he was a mere ‘youngster’ (he’s 6 years younger than me!). It’s an entertaining, wide-ranging reflection on the game encompassing his observations on such matters as captains, partnerships, declarations, press conferences and the like - and his contention that the County Championship is the most important aspect of the English game and his despair that its conclusion is relegated to the cold, damp days of the end of September (I just MIGHT have made similar remarks over recent years!). The book (published in 2022… and written between the first and third lockdowns!) is something of a celebration of the game (despite his views of ‘The Hundred’!) in the words of the book’s cover: taking us “beyond the boundary rope, sharing the parts of the game fans don’t get to see, from the food… to the politics of the dressing room… it’s the literary equivalent of an afternoon in the sun at a county outground…”. Perfect summer reading for me!
Charleston: A Bloomsbury House+Garden (Quentin Bell+Virginia Nicholson): Moira bought this lovely book in 1999 but, although I’ve perused its beautifully-illustrated pages on a very regular basis over the years, I realised that I hadn’t actually READ much of it! Quentin Bell (younger son of Clive and Vanessa Bell) was 85 when he started writing the book but, after presenting the first draft, became too ill to continue – so his elder daughter, Virginia Nicholson, completed it. Painters Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant moved to Charleston Farmhouse, in East Sussex, in 1916… and, over the next 50 years, it became the country meeting place for the group of artists, writers and intellectuals known as Bloomsbury (with the artists decorating the walls, doors and furniture). It’s an account of an artistic, somewhat bohemian, creative collection of artists and intellectuals meeting/living together at the house (albeit rather privileged individuals who don’t necessarily have to scrape a living in order to be able to produce their art and writing). Fascinating and stimulating.

general election 2024...

I started writing this in a café yesterday (18 June) and seemed to recall that 18 June was a general election day many years ago. Having subsequently checked with Wikipedia, my vague memory proved to be correct. Funny how you remember such things – although the fact it was my first time voting in a general election might have spiked my memory (1970)! Edward Heath was PM.
Ironically, 54 years later, if the imminent election had been scheduled for this September, it would also have marked granddaughter Iris’s first time of voting. Sadly, she’s missing out.
I’m afraid that I’ve tried to avoid general election coverage this time around.
None of the parties… or their leaders… or their policies enthuse or encourage me. I cannot believe that, at a time of acute Climate Crisis, there is so few environmental issues being discussed.
Somewhat bizarrely, I’ve read three ‘political’ books since the 2024 election was announced (by Shirley Williams, Jon Snow and Rory Stewart). They’ve all been insightful in their way – particularly Rory Stewart’s. Stewart (former MP and Conservative government minister… and a member of the Labour Party as a teenager!) in his book ‘Politics on the Edge’ is quite revealing about the way we are ‘governed’. I could quote extensively from his book, but the following two extracts will illustrate the state of things:
“Cameron’s government continued to be an elective dictatorship, propped up by the quasi-secret service known as the whips. While most MPs spoke publicly and loudly, facing the opposition benches, the whips hid behind the Speaker’s Chair, and their gaze was turned not to the opposition benches but inwards to their own, whispering and scribbling down examples of loyalty and insolence, helpfulness or foolishness, to report to their chief…” and how Stewart “hated how politicians used the pompous grandeur of the Palace of Westminster to pretend to a power they did not have, and to take credit for things they had not done…”.
It may just be the ageing process(?!), but I don’t think I’ve ever been more depressed by the state of the country and the way we are governed than I am now. For so many of us, the (first past the post) system is broken… an individual’s voice goes unheard… your vote is very unlikely to matter. Politics, these days, seems to be all about power and prestige – with governments run by a relatively small group of career-focussed MPs (many of them public-school educated - in 2019, two-thirds of cabinet ministers were public school educated) with all parliamentary votes strictly controlled by the Party Whips. There are exceptions, of course, but self-interest seems to be high on the list of their priorities. Lobbying your own MP is likely to have very little effect of what policies are actually adopted.
But don’t you worry your pretty little heads because, if you’re lucky, disgraced former prime minister Johnson will write to you encouraging you to vote Tory and, of course, Mr Farage has pledged that he will “run for PM in 2029”.
Is this REALLY the best we can come up with?

may-june 2024 books…

The Love Song Of Miss Queenie Hennessy (Rachel Joyce): I first read ‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ back in 2013 (and have since re-read it and seen the film)… it tells of Fry walking the length of England to ‘save’ Queenie Hennessy before she dies. Ru passed on this companion follow-up book (published in 2014) to me – giving Queenie’s story/love song… confessing secrets hidden for 20 years. It’s set in a hospice (and I really got to love the residents… and the sister nuns who run it). It’s a beautifully-written, uplifting, profound, thought-provoking, funny and moving novel… and I really enjoyed it.
Maureen Fry And The Angel Of The North (Rachel Joyce): Ru also passed on this additional ‘Unlikely Pilgrimage’ companion book (published in 2022) and so it seemed only right to follow up Queenie’s story with Harold Fry’s wife’s tale! It’s set 10 years on from Harold’s iconic walk and, this time, it’s his wife Maureen’s turn to make a journey. Maureen hardly features in the first two books and, whenever she does, comes across as a somewhat awkward, prickly, isolated character. This book is a moving portrait of a woman who still hasn’t come to terms with grief (*no spoilers*)… it’s about pain, but also about redemption.
Wolf Pack (Will Dean): This is the fifth Will Dean book I’ve read (in other words, I’ve read all five Tuva Moodyson mysteries). The action’s set around Rose Farm, Sweden; it’s home to a group of survivalists, completely cut off from the outside world… until a young woman goes missing within the perimeter of the farm compound. There’s a heinous crime and Tuva (a reporter on a local newspaper) searches for answers and attempts to talk her way inside the tight-knit group to learn more… but finds herself in danger of the pack turning against her. I think I’d better leave it there – will she make her way back to safety so she can expose the truth? In many ways, these Tuva Mysteries are all the same – the settings are the same (isolated communities set in wild elk forests); bleak weather; strange happenings; strange people; and, of course, Tuva exposing herself to danger (again!). Another very ‘enjoyable’ Scandi Noir novel… I really like the central character; the relatively short chapters suit my reading style; and I like its pace, plot and atmosphere.
Politics Is For People (Shirley Williams): With a general election looming, I thought it would be interesting to read Williams’s political views from more than 40 years ago (the book was first published in 1981; oldies will recall that she was a former Labour minister and a founder member of the Social Democrats). I’ve always had a high regard for Williams’s political convictions/attitudes and the book proved to be a fascinating, forthright, intelligent read. There is far too much detail in the book to enable an adequate summary in this brief review. Of course, today’s is a very different world – the internet/technological advances; social effects of new technology; climate change issues weren’t really on the agenda; and the like – but it was sobering to be reminded that some things don’t change much at all… we still have wars and conflict; poverty; society’s haves and have-nots; class and segregation; huge social/welfare challenges; housing; health+social care; education; cost of living crisis. Immigration hardly had a mention – except that it was needed to boost employment in certain sectors. Ironically, she was also dismissive of marginal voices calling for the UK’s withdrawal from EC(!)… “in an interdependent world countries cannot opt out”… “there would be a virtual cessation of international investment in Britain” and “Britain’s significance to her other friends and allies would seriously diminish”. In education, she was advocating ‘apprentices for everyone’. She was saddened by ongoing conservative governments’ entirely predictable support for increases in public spending on law+order and defence, while wanting to reduce expenditure on education, health and social services etc; she was critical of the remoteness, bureaucracy, conservatism and incompetence of many aspects of government (and political institutions). She called for the devolution of power and decentralization in government, big business, and unions (in three sweeping proposals, she suggested a ten-year plan to bring the welfare state into the future, a Marshall Plan to assist the Third World, and greater disarmament after a period of successful détente (oh, the irony!). It’s a wide-ranging, stimulating book.
The Girls Of Slender Means (Muriel Spark): This novel (first published in 1963) is set in London in 1945, where the city is coming to terms with a war that is grinding to a halt, and focusses on the tightly-knit world of a Kensington hostel (the May of Teck Club) - an establishment that existed "for the Pecuniary Convenience and Social Protection of Ladies of Slender Means below the age of Thirty Years, who are obliged to reside apart from their Families in order to follow an Occupation in London". It’s a comic (and tragic), beautifully-written book, full of hilarious descriptions of the hostel’s inhabitants (and their visitors) – although it did take me a little time to ‘get into’. But, at the same time, there is a strong sense of what these young women have had to contend with during the dark days of war and now, as they start to emerge into peacetime, there is a mood of freedom and a fresh start BUT also a strong feeling of uncertainty and half-perceived notions about what their lives might become; fearless and frightened at the same time.

april-may 2024 books…

Maigret Stonewalled (Georges Simenon): I like the Maigret character – although I think this is only the fourth Maigret mystery I’ve read (first published in 1931). On the face of it, it appears to be a simple enough case… a commercial traveller killed in a hotel bedroom on the Loire and yet Maigret senses that things aren’t quite as they appear. It transpires that, for the best part of 18 years, the victim had led an elaborate double life… until a man emerges demanding money. The plot is quite complicated (I lost my way a few times!) and involves, among other things, a reversal of identity and much ingenuity. An enjoyable, entertaining read.
Big Caesars and Little Caesars (Ferdinand Mount): For two years, Mount was head of Margaret Thatcher’s think-tank/Number 10’s Policy Unit… so I took on this book with somewhat mixed feelings. But the preface immediately reassured me: “The world seems to be full of self-proclaimed Strong Men strutting their stuff, or waiting in the wings… How can these uncouth figures with their funny hair, their rude manners and their bad jokes take such a hold on the popular imagination?”. It’s a fascinating, intelligent, “wry field guide to autocrats” (as The Guardian’s Rachael Cooke puts it) covering a whole host of ‘Caesars’ – from Julius Caesar, Oliver Cromwell, Napoleon, Bolivar, Mussolini, Salazar, De Gaulle, Indira Gandhi to the likes of Trump and Johnson. He’s particularly damning about Trump and Johnson - although he doesn’t regard them as being so exceptional as we might imagine. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I found these sections the most interesting (but also pretty alarming… especially the likely prospect of a Trump second term). Mount leaves the reader with a sense that although Johnson has gone (we think), we need to keep our eyes peeled for others just like him already waiting in the wings. It’s a sobering book from a very experienced and knowledgeable political journalist. I found it quite compelling.  
A Postillion Struck By Lightning (Dirk Bogarde): This is the first volume of Bogarde’s autography (first published in 1977). I first read this book in 1990 and went on to read volumes 2+3… I enjoyed them all enormously and thought it was about time I re-visited it (after 34 years!!). It’s a beautifully-written book, full of funny, sad anecdotes and charm… evoking his idyllic Sussex childhood, his tough and lonely initiation into the harsher realities at a Glasgow technical school and the early days as an aspiring artist (the book contains a lot of his ‘scribbles’) and then as an actor up until he goes to Hollywood. Second time around, I found it a rather lovely, funny and nostalgic read… (although I admit to getting a little bored by some his early childhood recollections). I think I need to re-read volume 2+3 again.
The State Of Us (Jon Snow): Jon Snow is something of a hero of mine (AND he and I gathered coal together from the coal cellar each morning in 1990 when we were both staying in apartments at Ardtornish in the western highlands! I KNOW!!)(somewhat ridiculously, I noticed that I’d added a note in the Bogarde book explaining that I read it while on holiday at Ardtornish!!). This is a book of his reflections on the life of the nation over the past five decades. I found it a rather wonderful, honest book. His father was a bishop and he had a public school education at a choral school (he’s somewhat embarrassed by this and highly critical of what he regards the “privileged arrogance” arising from a public school background). Remarkably, he admits to not knowing anybody who was state-educated until he went to Scarborough Tech (and from there he went on to a short-lived degree experience at Liverpool Uni – he was kicked out for demonstrating against Apartheid). He admits to being far from academic (his A-Level grades were C, D and E) and clearly had some ‘good breaks’ early in his journalistic career. He’s passionate about inequality and multi-culturalism… and these passions extend to the appalling background to the Grenfell Tower tragedy, Brexit, unfairness and injustice and the beauty of Iran. In his time, he interviewed every prime minister since Thatcher (about whom, perhaps surprisingly, he is complimentary – unlike the likes of Mr Johnson!). I found it a really compelling, encouraging and optimistic story about our society. I highly recommend it to you!
The Queen's Gambit (Walter Tevis): This book, first published in 1983, is our next Storysmith bookgroup book… based on a sporting theme (chess was selected!). We used to play chess at the end of term at school and other pupils were always keen to play me – essentially because they knew they could beat me! Essentially, it’s about an 8-year-old American girl in an orphanage who is taught to play chess by the school’s janitor and ends up (spoiler alert: with some ‘issues’ on the way!) forging a new life for herself by progressing to the top of the US chess rankings… and beyond. A novel about chess is not my ideal kind of book (although I’m now something of an expert on opening playing strategies – Albion Counter Gambit, Queen’s Gambit, Sicilian etc etc!)… and yet I found this to be something of a compelling page-turner. My only real reservations relate to the somewhat too-good-to-be-true, rags-to-riches fantasy of it all. An enjoyable read nevertheless.

that they may face the rising sun…

I went along to the Watershed again this afternoon to watch Pat Collins’ film “That They May Face The Rising Sun”… based on John McGahern’s final novel (which I’ve yet to read – but I HAVE read and loved four of McGahern’s other books).
The film captures a year in the life of a rural, lakeside community in late 1970s Ireland.
Joe (Barry Ward) and Kate (Anna Bederke) have returned from London to live and work in a small, close-knit community in a remote lakeside setting in rural Ireland, close to where Joe grew up. He’s a writer and she’s an artist who retains part ownership of a London gallery. Can the harsh, simple farming life (shoehorned into their writer/artist lives) sustain them?
The film rather beautifully explores their lives (and those of their neighbours) and the rituals of work, play, community bonds and the passing seasons.
The Irish scenery is stunning (of course) and I loved the accompanying simple piano music/sounds of nature. The additional characters – Lalor Roddy (Patrick), Sean McGinley (Johnny), Phillip Dolan (Jamesie), Ruth McCabe (Mary), John Olohan (The Shah) and Brandan Conroy (Bill) are all rather wonderfully played.
I very much enjoyed the film – I thought the pace was beautifully apt… and somewhat similar to my experiences of reading McGahern’s impressive books.

polling day: ID required (and other political devices)...

I’m currently reading Ferdinand Mount’s book “Big Caesars and Little Caesars” (“how they rise and fall – from Julius Caesar to Boris Johnson”). As a former editor of ‘The Spectator’ and head of Margaret Thatcher’s think-tank, rest assured that he’s no liberal-lefty!!
It’s a fascinating book and well worth reading if you are ‘politically inclined’(!)…
But, with local elections taking place tomorrow (2 May), I thought his comments about the need for the electorate to produce photographic ID at the polling stations in order to cast their votes were timely reminders of one of the ways we’re being manipulated by the Conservative government - just one of five measures* he highlights (apologies for quoting at such length, but I think it’s important):
“Voter suppression:  
But of course in order to exercise power in this exuberant style, the Tories have to acquire power and hang on to it. The first priority is to win the upcoming general election, and prepare for the election after that. What is the best method of improving your chances? First, to adjust the boundaries of the constituencies to maximise the impact of your votes... Then, not only to encourage your voters to turn out by every possible means, but also to discourage the potential voters for the other side, either by preventing them from registering on the electoral roll or to make it difficult for them to cast their votes – so-called ‘voter suppression’. Thirdly, most flagrantly, by stuffing the ballot boxes with votes by people who don’t exist or have already voted or are not qualified to vote…
British general elections… have been remarkably free and fair for a long time – ever since voter personation and other dodges were finally eliminated in Northern Ireland. There has been no substantial evidence of fraud at any recent general elections. Yet the Tories’ 2019 election manifesto included this pledge: ‘We will protect the integrity of our democracy by introducing voter identification to vote at polling stations, stopping postal vote harvesting and measures to prevent any foreign interference with elections’.
All this, now contained in the Elections Act, is an egregious solution to a non-existent problem. It can have one purpose only: to suppress the votes of the poorer and less organised voters who are less likely to possess photo ID. When voter ID was made mandatory in Northern Ireland in 2002, the number of voters on the new register dropped by 120,000 or 10 per cent. This suspicion is confirmed by a second pledge, to make it easier for British expats to vote in parliamentary elections, expiates being plausibly thought far more likely to vote Tory, just as the worst off are more likely to vote Labour. Thus one set of voters whose fortunes do not depend on the actions of the UK is to be encouraged, while a far larger number of voters who do depend – often desperately – on what the British government does or does not do for them is to be discouraged. It is hard to imagine a more flagrant strategy to rig the result. It may be that as holding voter ID becomes more universal over the years, the adverse effect will diminish. But what is clear is that the MOTIVE behind the Elections Bill is to secure party advantage under the cloak of fairness.”
Believe me, I COULD have quoted far more extensively on this and other related subjects (eg. Trump and Johnson don’t emerge in Mount’s book in anything like a ‘good light’!).
Be afraid. Be very afraid!
PS: * The other measures Mount refers to (arising out of the Conservative manifesto for the  2019 general election) relate to the following: ‘Dissolving Parliament’; ‘Sacking MPs’; ‘Sacking civil servants’ and ‘Taming the judges’.

cricket: our summer game…

Yesterday, I went along to watch the final day of the county championship game between Gloucestershire and Middlesex at Bristol (just a 75 bus ride away from home).
It was very good to back watching some cricket again (my first game of the season) but, in truth, it felt a somewhat dispiriting game in so many ways.
Although the odds were clearly on the game ending in a draw, I’d actually thought there was a chance of an exciting finish… say with Gloucestershire chasing 250 runs to win in the afternoon?
Sadly, both captains seemed intent on NOT LOSING rather than pressing for a victory. Gloucestershire (admittedly minus one of their bowlers due to injury) set defensive fields all morning and Middlesex batted on far too long into the afternoon (why on earth didn’t they declare at lunchtime, some 280 runs ahead?). In the end, they left Gloucestershire to score 331 runs to win in 58 overs (5.7 runs/over)… Gloucestershire opted to simply see out the game and finished on 127-3.
Clearly, the cricket authorities see the one-day, 20Twenty and The Hundred games as their main opportunities to make money… which means that the traditional county championship games are horse-shoed into the start and end of the cricket season – which essentially means playing the bulk of championship games in April, May and September – reserving most of June, July and August for the money-spinning games.
Yesterday’s game at Bristol highlighted the stark reality (and perhaps the eventual demise?) of the 4-day game… there were fewer than 100 spectators (it might even have been as little as 50!?)… all wrapped in their waterproofs, fleeces, woolly hats (and even gloves)!
Whatsmore, so far this season, the county championship (in part because it’s being played during the worst weather months) has hardly set the sporting world on fire (understatement!). Out of the 34 games played in the two Divisions, 27 of them have resulted in draws!
Unless changes are made, I can’t see the county championship surviving another 10 years (at most!?).
It might just ‘see me out’, but it’ll mark the sad end of an era… and cricket will never be the same again.
PS: But, hey, on a positive note, I was delighted that I only had to pay £10 for my ticket (I think it’s usually £18-20)… Was this because it was the final day’s play? Whatever the reason, I commend Gloucestershire for the gesture.
Photograph: Your cricket correspondent captured the moment when Gloucestershire started their second innings: Dent c Davies b Helm 0!

march-april 2024 books…

The Farmer’s Wife (Helen Rebanks): I’ve previously read James Rebanks’ brilliant two books about his family’s lives, over several generations, as sheep farmers in the fells of the Lake District. This is his wife’s ‘take’ on their farming life… about the love and pride for the land they farm; for her family (they have four young children); for their way of life and all its trials, tribulations, frustrations and joys. She writes quite beautifully and honestly about the difficulties of keeping things going despite the lack of money, but also about the endless improvisation and determination to achieve their dreams. She’s a full-time mother (with an art degree) dealing with all the day-to-day responsibilities of the school run and school liaison, caring for the domestic animals, cooking, farm administration (including all the form-filling, licences etc) and much, much more. There’s a section in the book in which she describes when the family were effectively ‘cut off’ for several days (no electricity, internet etc) during heavy snowstorms and their resourceful in staying safe/warm and nourished – whilst, at the same time, ensuring that their animals are tracked down and fed – a sobering reminder of what a hard life farming can be. Although I only briefly thumbed through them, the book also contains a whole host of recipes! A very impressive, powerful and frequently quite moving book.
Piccadily Jim (PG Wodehouse): I’m a great admirer of Wodehouse’s writing but must admit that I found this novel (first published in 1917) someone disappointing. The story combines English and American settings and characters (I never find his ‘take’ on Americans anything like as amusing as his descriptions of the English upper classes) and the plot is farcically complicated and, to my mind, unconvincing. It involves impersonations, spies, explosives and kidnapping plans that go awry. As you would imagine with Wodehouse, it’s frequently funny… but also ridiculously far-fetched. Not one of my favourites.
Not A River (Selva Almada): This is our Storysmith bookgroup’s next book (theme: a book from this year’s International Booker Prize Longlist). This from the cover’s blurb: “Three men go out fishing, returning to a favourite spot on a river in Argentina, despite their memories of a terrible accident there years earlier. As a long, sultry day passes, they drink and cook and talk and dance, and try to overcome the ghosts of their past. But they are outsiders, and this intimate, peculiar moment also puts them at odds with the inhabitants of this watery universe, both human and otherwise. The forest presses close, and violence seems inevitable, but can another tragedy be avoided?”. In some ways the men’s pursuit of a massive ray reminded me of Hemingway’s “The Old Man And The Sea” – the book has a similar foreboding atmosphere and sense of anxiety; here, we’re slowly shown glimpses back to the previous tragedy, one that has left its disturbing scars. The novel’s pace is somewhat leisurely (it’s certainly not relaxed!), but its setting of the calm river and the ominous woods simply reinforces the tension. I found it a very impressive book.
The Memoirs Of Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle): I’m no great admirer of Sherlock Holmes’ books, and certainly haven’t read one for some 20 years or more (and actually find the character consistently annoying!), but found this on the shelf of the Oxfam bookshop… This book, first published in 1950, consists of eleven ‘exciting adventures’ (according to the book’s cover!). It’s all very dated, predictable in style and general content (and, at times, somewhat ridiculous), but it makes for easy reading.
Madness Is Better Than Defeat (Ned Beauman): This is our next Blokes’ Bookgroup book. I take an awful lot of pleasure from reading but, after completing just the first 100 pages of this book (it’s 408 pages long), I decided that I’d ‘had enough’ and gave up (over the past 10 years or so, there is just ONE book I didn’t finish… so this will be the second!). The story relates to two rival expeditions, in 1938, setting off for a lost Mayan temple in the jungles of Honduras – one intending to shoot a ‘screwball comedy’ on location there… and the other to disassemble the temple and ship it back to New York. By all accounts, Bauman is a successful and popular writer (reviewers’ quotes on the book’s cover talk about him being ‘clever’, ‘seriously funny’ and ‘almost recklessly gifted’) but, frankly, I’m not a fan. I don’t doubt that I’ve probably missed out on lots of clever storylines and colourful characters, but my spirits have been raised merely by taking the decision to stop reading the book! Due to my impending hip operation, I’ll be unable to attend our bookgroup’s review evening of the novel – which is probably just as well!