more october 2014 books

more book stuff:

On Liberty (Shami Chakrabarti): Chakrabarti is one of my heroes and this is a passionate book about how our hard-won individual and collective freedoms have been eroded and are now in unprecedented danger. She highlights, amongst lots of other things, how some senior Tory figures (under what they no doubt see as pressure from UKIP) are pressing for the Human Rights Act to be abolished and for the UK to withdraw from the European Convention on Human Rights. She makes a very powerful and compelling case pointing out why this would be SO wrong and the folly (and huge risks) of allowing politicians make up the rules just to suit themselves. It’s chilling stuff (but, hey, I was already on her side!) and underlines many of my own concerns about current politics in this country.
Norman Foster: A Life In Architecture (Deyan Sudjic): Another one of my heroes (of a different sort). Foster (born in 1935, near Manchester) comes from a working-class background and only decided on an architectural career (very much against his parents’ advice and following a conversation with a work colleague who’s son was studying architecture) after a frustrating time working in Manchester Town Hall Treasurer’s department as an office junior. After obtaining his degree at Manchester University’s School of Architecture, he studied at Yale, in the USA, for his MA (where he met Richard Rogers). Over the past 50 years or so, thanks to inspirational teachers (all keen advocates of the Modernist Movement), his ability to draw, think “outside the box”, explore and communicate ideas, Foster has become one of the leading figures in world architecture. Author Sedjic first met Foster over 40 years ago and this book provides a fascinating and detailed backdrop to Foster’s career and the people with whom he has worked. Foster now employs a staggering 1,400 people worldwide! He’s an amazing visionary with huge determination to succeed – he has a frightening intensity and attitude towards his work. As you might imagine, Foster is also VERY ambitious, incredibly competitive, egotistical and enormously inspiring. I read the book with a mixture of awe, sadness and envy (I had a successful architectural career, but maybe I should have pushed myself further?)(I obviously didn’t have Foster’s talent!)… but also an acknowledgement that my chosen path (ie. leaving the profession aged 55, after over 30 years in practice) was right for me, my family, my lifestyle and my aspirations.
Crow (Ted Hughes): This is a short book of 67 poems (mostly written during 1966-69, but not published until 1972) which provide a mythical narrative/epic folk tale (myth, animal metaphors and dark sub-conscious seem to have become increasing fascinations in his life). It’s a very strange book - sometimes funny, but frequently very dark and harrowing – and it no doubt reflects, amongst other things, Hughes’s interest in the Occult. I’m afraid I REALLY struggled with this book and found myself frequently reflecting on the fact that the book (with its harsh treatment of human relations, religion and morality) was written after his wife’s (Sylvia Plath) suicide in 1963. The book’s completion was delayed by the tragic deaths of his second wife Assia Wevill and daughter Shura (Assia Wevill committed suicide in the same way as Plath, and also killed their 4 year-old daughter) – more darkness and despair! Many people regard “The Crow” as one of Hughes’s masterpieces… I’m afraid I’m probably just not clever enough to “get it”. Sorry!
Queen Lucia (EF Benson): Only my second Benson “Lucia” book (I bought two complete volumes from the National Trust’s Lamb House, Rye – on which the fictional “Mallards”, Tilling was based and where Benson lived for a time - for a bargain £4!). The principal character is Mrs Lucas, who liked to called herself “Lucia” in her ridiculous and snobbish way, effectively rules the “toy kingdom” of Riseholme village. Written in the 1920s and beautifully observed, it’s an outrageously pretentious and excruciatingly farcical account of one-upmanship and class in a society where all the main players don’t need to work for a living. It’s all very tongue-in-cheek, amusing and very readable.
Daughter (Jane Shemilt): I read this on the recommendation of my old school friend Les (partly because it’s a “good book” and because it’s partly based in Bristol). The story is every parent’s nightmare. A 15 year-old daughter fails to return home after a school play and the family is left distraught and in pieces as they try to establish what happened. Told through the eyes of the mother, it’s a haunting, tense story and one of those books you just HAVE to keep reading – it’s 400 pages long (ok, quite large font!) and I finished it within 2 days. It’s very skilfully written and I would thoroughly recommend it.
Footnote: my one slight reservation was that I thought it was probably more of a “woman’s book” (blimey, doesn’t that make me sound un-PC!). After I’d written the above, I googled “Goodread” reviews… and only found ONE “bloke review” in the first 60 reviews.

 

martha tilston again…

I went along to see/hear Martha Tilston perform again at Colston Hall last night (I saw her February last year)… and she was SO good! Once again, she was on stage for nearly two hours – usually with her supporting band “The Scientists” but, for 20 minutes or so, on her own – and she completely captivated her enthusiastic “full house” audience. As well as being an excellent singer-songwriter (her voice is quite, quite beautiful), she’s also a brilliant all-round musician – as she demonstrated last night on guitar and grand piano.
Lots of passion, humour and just a hugely enjoyable evening.
Her latest album is called “The Sea” (although born in Bristol, she now lives in Cornwall) and features traditional folk songs about the sea, collected, sung and played “with family+friends, kith and kin” (each of which she performs alongside individual family members). Last night, she played these songs without the support from family members but, from what I’ve heard listening to the CD this morning, it’s really rather lovely. Among the featured family members are her father, Steve Tilston (whose music I knew well before I came across his daughter – and who, I know, my brother Alan will have come across from his Birmingham days) and her uncle, Kevin Whately (of “Lewis”/”Morse” fame etc and he’s got a great voice)!
Photo: Martha Tilston from last night’s concert.

october 2014 books

more book stuff:

Cain (José  Saramago): As you might know, Portuguese Saramago was the recipient of the 1998 Nobel Prize in Literature (he died in 2010). He was an atheist and this short novel is told through the eyes of Cain as he “witnesses” various Old Testament passages from the Bible (from Adam+Eve, to killing his brother Abel, to Sodom and Gomorrah, to Mount Sinai, and eventually ending up on the Ark with Noah) that add to his increasing loathing of God - Cain even intervenes when Abraham is about to sacrifice Isaac. It’s thought-provoking, provocative, often witty… and challenging.
Elgar: The Erotic Variations and Delius: A Moment with Venus (Ken Russell): I bought this book on a whim at the £3 Bookshop. I enjoy biographies and knew very little about the lives of these two composers so, despite the title (and Russell’s film reputation as a director who seeks to titillate at every opportunity!), I gave it go. I should have known better. He’s made something like 15 biographical films on composers and is convinced that most of his chosen composers have a dual personality (of course he does!). In fact, the flysheet of this book reveals another two Ken Russell novels in a similar/identical vein: “Beethoven: Confidential  and Brahms: Gets Laid”!! The two novels (ie. Elgar+Delius) read rather like Russell screenplays (or what I imagine them to be like) and, frankly, I found them tedious and somewhat irritating.
The White Tiger (Aravind Adiga): This novel, which won the 2008 Man Booker Prize, is our book group’s latest book. It’s set in India and tells the story of Balram Halwai – the uneducated son of a rickshaw-puller, but also a servant, a liar and a philosopher (among other things). The book’s title is the name Balram gives himself, as a budding entrepreneur (“the rarest of animals – the creature that comes along only once in a generation”). It’s a depressing, savage (and yet also funny and strangely noble) story about globilisation, politics, corruption, freedom, immorality… and about the poor and underprivileged who cannot even meet their bare minimums… and about wealthy businessmen, politicians and others who shamelessly exploit them. It’s an angry book which points to all that is going on in a country that has become one of the world’s fastest-growing economies and bluntly asks “how can it be like this?”. I thought it was an exceptional, powerful book.
Deep River (Shusaku Endo): After various references to the Ganges in “The White Tiger” (see above), it seemed somewhat weird that my next book should also feature the sacred river – it’s funny how these coincidences KEEP happening! This novel traces the story of four Japanese tourists on a tour to India; they each to go there for different purposes and with different expectations, but each of them, in a way, finds their own spiritual discovery on the banks of the Ganges River. I suppose it’s a book about the “meaning of life” - although it certainly doesn’t attempt to give answers. It’s a wonderful, challenging book which touches on Buddhism, Christianity/Catholicism, reincarnation, faith and faithlessness – certainly more food for thought on my own rather haphazard spiritual journey.
A Life of Privilege, Mostly: A Memoir (Gardner Botsford): Another book from the £3 bookshop. I’m always attracted by biographies and, although I’d never heard of Gardner Botsford (1917-2004), I was suitably intrigued by the title of the book and the brief details outlined on its flysheet. Botsford was the editor of The New Yorker magazine for nearly 40 years and the book, published in 2003, tells of Botsford’s early life of privilege in the Depression years of the 1930s (his family of five had five live-in servants plus four other staff, a whole host of cars and enjoyed separate summer and winter residencies… as you do!); his WW2 experiences (part of the D-Day landings, fought in the Battle of the Bulge, was wounded and decorated); and his fascinating career with The New Yorker. Beautifully written and observed and a mixture of tense conflict and humour.

bristol festival of ideas: shami chakrabarti and owen jones

I just love the annual Bristol Festival of Ideas… always challenging and thought-provoking (eg. Richard Holloway’s talk four years ago has had a profound influence on how I see a whole of range of things). Last night, Moira, Gareth, Alan+I went to two talks at @ Bristol: Shami Chakrabarti (director of Liberty, UK’s leading civil rights organisation) and Owen Jones (writer, columnist and commentator)… and they were both simply brilliant.

SHAMI CHAKRABARTI:
She’s an incredibly impressive lady. In an hour-long question-and-answer session (which she handled with authority and dignity - as well as demonstrating her vast knowledge and intellect), it perhaps wasn’t surprising that one of the main issues raised was the present UK government’s threat to abandon the Human Rights Act in favour of its own self-styled British Bill of Rights. She talked passionately on the subject and gave example after example of some of the devastating implications of the government’s mooted proposals. Other subjects raised, in a wide-ranging discussion, included the bedroom tax, slavery, the House of Lords, Corporations (eg. TTIP), torture and respect for privacy. The packed audience was completely captivated by her and duly showed their loud and enthusiastic appreciation at the end of the session.
OWEN JONES:
Over the past year or so, I’ve become a great admirer of Owen Jones’s writing (he’s a regular columnist in The Guardian). Yes, he’s left-wing. Yes, he’s young (30). But he’s also incredibly bright… and he talks an awful lot of sense (well, in my view at least). He’s recently written a book – “The Establishment: And How They Get Away with It” – and this formed the basis of the session. He talked for an hour (the first half an hour about the things included in the book and then another 30 minutes of questions-and-answers). He’s a remarkable and very gifted young man. He’s the sort of person who has the ability to express concerns on behalf of many of us who have become disillusioned with “establishment politics”. With certain exceptions, he doesn’t have a particularly high regard for our current batch of politicians (of whatever party)… in a recent article in the Guardian, he described them as “technocratic, rootless, soulless; a professionalised morass of time-servers who see ministerial posts as springboards to nice little earners on corporate boards; manoeuvring constantly not on the basis of political principle but for shameless self-advancement”!
There was nothing particularly startling (or new) in what he said last night (eg. lobbyists who fund the thinktanks that influence the government, or the owners who appoint the editors who set the political agenda, or the tax accountants who get seconded to the civil service that decides how much their clients will pay), it’s just that I found myself agreeing with point after point he was making (and so did the vast majority of the full-house attending last night). His talk was very much a “call to arms” – to scrutinise the powerful (the corporations, the politicians etc) in these austere times and to redress the balance away from the poor, who are all too often (according to politicians and much of the media) blamed for our current financial predicament. Amen to that!
We all need people who make us think, who give us hope, who challenge us… and who encourage us to make our voice heard. Chakrabarti and Jones CERTAINLY did that last night!

eddi reader

Moira, Ruth+I went to St George’s last night to see/hear Eddi Reader in concert… and she was simply wonderful. She has an amazing voice – jazzy, soulful, joyous, sublime, soaring – and last night she covered a huge range of musical styles from traditional to contemporary. She clearly loves performing her songs and her passion, talent and character were massively appreciated by the sell-out audience.

I first came across her with Fairground Attraction in 1987/8 (you might remember “Perfect”?… ok, so perhaps not, it was 26 years ago afterall!). The last time I saw her was at Greenbelt in 2001.
When I was working in the Iona bookshop in 2012, I frequently used to play her excellent “Songs of Robert Burns” CD to customers (I think I was the only customer who bought it, but hey…). She was a strong advocate for Scottish Independence and, as you might imagine, politics (plus her hilarious family and travels) came into the chat between songs - and heart-felt, very funny stuff it was too… a sort of biography through music.
A brilliant evening of the kind of music that makes you glow inside.
PS: I’ve added her “Love is The Way” CD to my Christmas list.

effie gray

Moira, Alan+I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Richard Laxton’s “Effie Gray”. I thought I knew quite a bit about John Ruskin’s life, but his unconsummated marriage to Euphemia “Effie” Gray was something I was previously totally unaware of (yes, I need to read/get out more!). The film was all rather beautiful – lots of images of autumnal Scotland to enhance Effie’s auburn hair and the sumptuous “celtic” colours of her outfits… and gorgeous scenes filmed in Venice (you can’t really get better in my book) – and the story was intriguing, BUT… if truth be told, I found it all just a little boring (turgid even?) and somewhat sugar-coated. Emma Thompson effectively played the part of a sort of fairy-godmother (Lady Eastlake - if you’ve written the screenplay, as she did, you can do these things); Effie was well played by Dakota Fanning; and Ruskin (played by Greg Wise) was suitably obnoxious. I do like Emma Thompson as an actress (and as a person), but feel that she always seems to play “Emma Thompson” whatever role she has… and this film was no different. And, of course, an Emma T film wouldn’t be the same if it didn’t include a whole host of her acting buddies - the cast included David Suchet, Julie Walters, James Fox, Robbie Coltrane, Derek Jacobi and, of course, her real life husband Greg Wise! The only real surprise was that Stephen Fry didn’t suddenly show up in the final scene…

Perfectly watchable, but certainly not one of my favourite films of 2014.  

will and testament

Moira+I mixed cinema culture and politics yesterday afternoon, along with our very good friends Gareth+Alan, at the Watershed (again, yes I know…) to see “Will and Testament” – a documentary of intimate interviews with Tony Benn, as part of the Bristol Festival of Ideas. Benn was the much-loved Labour MP for Bristol South East for more than 30 years. I’ve always been an admirer of Tony Benn and, as I’ve got older (and wiser!), my admiration for him has only increased. Sadly, all too often, it seems that it’s only when politicians are no longer seen as influential rivals or opponents that people really start to listen. For me, this is true for people from a wide spectrum of political backgrounds – even the likes of Michael Heseltine and Michael Portillo, for example!   

This is an intimate and deeply personal film about Benn – frequently involving the powerful themes in his life… his hopes and fears, his optimism and dreams, his wife and family. I particularly liked the piece in the film when Harold Wilson commented that he reckoned Tony Benn had “immatured with age”! We all know that Benn was a bit of a romantic at heart (and there’s definitely nothing wrong in that!) and, often, he’s also been a bit of a maverick (and difficult to have on your “team” perhaps?). But this is a brilliant film and one that I vow to watch at least once every five years for the rest of my life – a reminder to us all of the hope and determination required to fight for the things we believe in. Yes, this rebel eventually became a “national treasure”… but, significantly, in this film he also emerges with charm and persuasiveness as well as consistency, dignity and good humour (and very many of his views have been vindicated over the course of time). He was a very good, decent and inspiring man.
In the film, Benn says that he would be very pleased if his epitaph read: “He encouraged us”… and I think that’s absolutely right. He has certainly encouraged me. What would the Labour Party give today for someone with Benn’s integrity and charisma?  

maps to the stars

I had a “day off” yesterday… I cycled along the Harbourside. I had coffee at the fairly new, and rather nice, Brigstow Lounge Café (just opposite the SS Great Britain). I did a couple of drawings, I took some photographs… and I went to the Watershed cinema to see David Cronenberg’s very strange film “Maps to the Stars”. It’s set in the dog-eat-dog celebrity world of Hollywood – fading actresses (the excellent Julianne Moore plays one of them), spoilt showbiz kids, drug addiction, wannabe screenwriters, guru psychoanalysts … you get the picture. But what initially appears to be a film that satirises of the movie business unravels into a rather weird, macabre and tense two hours that seemed to have a grip on the entire Watershed cinema audience (ok, it was only a Friday afternoon, but…).

The Watershed’s blurb includes this: “We can’t give away too much but, suffice to say, this is a brilliant nightmare of the film that is Cronenberg’s strangest, most deliciously odd film yet…”. Well, to the best of my knowledge, I’ve not previously seen any of his films, but “brilliant nightmare” seems a fair summary!

dracula at the old vic

The night before last, it was the theatre. Last night, it was the ballet.

Moira+I continued our week of culture and live performance at Bristol’s Old Vic last night when we went to see “Dracula” performed by the wonderful Mark Bruce Company. I hadn’t spent my early adult years watching horror movies, but even I had a vague knowledge of the vampire legend (based on Bram Stoker’s book of the same name, first published in 1897).
I knew that last night was going to be dark, dramatic… and bloody.
In fact, it was pretty amazing. I know very little about dance, but I was completely captivated by the mesmerizing brilliance and athleticism of the dancers… it literally took my breath away at times. Jonathan Goddard as Dracula was simply superb (we’d previously seen him in HeadSpaceDance’s “If Play Is Play” in April) and Eleanor Duval, as Mina Harker, and Kristin McGuire, as Lucy Westenra, both also gave stunning performances (I was particularly captivated by McGuire’s intensely beautiful, powerful portrayal). The music was stunningly good too – ranging from the intense, painful, grating themes composed especially for this piece to traditional folk tunes, Beethoven, Bach, Schnittke and even Florrie Forde’s “Down at the Old Bull and Bush”!
Another stunning evening of live performance (the last performance at the Old Vic is on Saturday 4 October… but the tour continues to Manchester, Birmingham, London, Glasgow, Caernarfon, Ipswich, Brighton and beyond). Catch it if you possibly can.
As we walked home under a clear, half moon, black sky… I resisted the temptation the kiss Moira’s neck…

my perfect mind

Moira+I went to the Tobacco Theatre last night (to be honest, it was M’s idea and I wasn’t all that keen… how wrong I was!). The play, “My Perfect Mind” (performed+written by Edward Petherbridge and Paul Hunter, and directed+written by Kathryn Hunter), is inspired by the time when the acclaimed classical actor Edward Petherbridge (who also played Lord Peter Wimsey in the 1980’s BBC series) went to New Zealand in 2007 to rehearse the part of King Lear. After two days in rehearsal, he suffered a major stroke – which left him barely able to move. As he struggled to recover he made a discovery: the entire role of Lear still existed word for word in his mind.

The result is a bizarre mix - part Shakespeare recital, part theatrical in-joke and part meditation on the frailties of old age and the extraordinary abilities of mind and body to renew themselves… and it’s all played out on an exaggeratedly tilted stage (which cleverly highlights a world that’s off-kilter… as well as providing moments of great hilarity). The blurb on the Tobacco Factory Theatre’s website describes it as ”a comic tale of a man not doing King Lear”… and it absolutely is. It’s hugely entertaining and very funny, but it’s also a moving exploration of life (especially for those of us who’re entering old age!) and the human spirit. Both actors are quite brilliant – Petherbridge in that wonderful way experienced actors have of exuding confidence and frailty at the same time and Hunter with his multitude of “support” characters.
A brilliant evening – theatre and live performance at its very best.
(If you live in the Bristol area, the play runs until Saturday 4 October (and, I think, tickets are still available) and I would highly recommend that you see it.
PS: Petherbridge is 78 years old (and still looks very spritely) and I particularly enjoyed the fact that he had to crawl (literally) under the tilted stage on two occasions (in full view of the audience) and climb up on to the stage through an access hatch!

random reflections on the netherlands…

These are no more than MY memory-jerkers/diary scribbles relating to our wonderful time in Amsterdam, Utrecht, Houten+Tricht (to remind me over the coming months/years!)… in no particular order and certainly not exhaustive:

1.       Just lovely seeing Dick+Dientje at their home in Houten… and their wonderful, generous hospitality.
2.       Dick’s paintings and Dientje’s collages.
3.       Dick’s soups.
4.       Sitting in Dick+Dientje’s garden eating breakfasts and drinking coffee.
5.       No rain and plenty of sunshine!
6.       Dick+Dientje’s lovely “children” – confident, articulate and warm.
7.       EVERYONE speaks English perfectly.
8.       Coming out of Amsterdam railway station and being confronted by a three-storey, full-to-bursting, bike-park and lines and lines of other bike parking.
9.       Bikes/cyclists everywhere (even crowded basement bike parking in student accommodation beside a canal)… and a whole network of generous cycle roads/paths.

10.   Sketching, looking out from our Amsterdam hotel bedroom and, for the entire half an hour, listening to a man in the street whistling a beautiful operatic aria (that I can no longer recall).
11.   Friendly, helpful people.
12.   Lots of beautiful, young, lean people – especially cyclists.
13.   Elegant sit-up-and-beg-bikes.
14.   “Roads” dominated by bikes… adjustment time needed by us to keep a watchful eye out for them when crossing roads (and, obviously, remembering to look left first!).
15.   Amsterdam not as clean as I’d imagined – especially around the station area.
16.   Beautiful canal-side houses - especially at night, when you got to see rooms lit up (even posher than Clifton).
17.   Lovely to be able to walk beside the Amsterdam canals.
18.   Lots of Americans in Amsterdam (often quite loud!).
19.   We didn’t go to Anne Frank’s house, but noticed that there were 50m long queues outside, even at 7pm on a Monday.

20.   Cyclists have priority, then pedestrians… and then vehicles in city centre areas.
21.   Impressed by the railway system (once we’d remembered to get our tickets scanned at the barriers)… and a lovely way to get a “feel” of the country.
22.   Free ferry ride across the harbour (from the railway station) to the EYE film institute for coffee on the terrace.
23.   Dom Tower in Utrecht – dominates the skyline as you approach by train (only wish I’d been brave enough to take photographs from the top!)… and amazed by the massive nave gap between the tower and chancel (which collapsed in a hurricane in 1674)
24.   Drinking coffee and eating delicious apple pastries with Dick+Dientje outside in the Utrecht sunshine.
25.   Gentle walks beside the Utrecht canals.
26.   Meeting up with very good friends Harry+Willeke in Utrecht… and having a lovely time with them (as he’s keen on history, Harry was in his element because it was Open Doors Day) and seeing beautiful places we’d have otherwise missed… and organist Willeke was able to give us the low-down on the impressive church organs we came across.
27.   Wonderful lunch with Harry+Willeke in the courtyard of Grand Hotel Karel V.
28.   Cycling to Tricht (and back… 45km in total) with Dick… a great experience.
29.   Testing out and falling off Dick’s lie-down-on-your-back bike(twice!)… much to the amusement of the others.

30.   Picking apples and collecting walnuts in the orchard at Tricht… and then just sitting, chatting, eating+drinking while watching the sun go down at the end of the day.
31.   EVERYONE (all ages) seems to own at least one bike… and uses them.
32.   Being impressed by the layout of Houten (population nearly 50,000)… re-designed around the bike when the town was enlarged in the 1970s. Bike-lanes everywhere and cars relegated to ring road and access points.
33.   Houten transport/urban design system (and central areas of Amsterdam+Utrecht) means you don’t need a car. Bike and train are all you need.
34.   99% of bikers don’t wear cycle helmets (but there are quite a few who, sadly, feel the need to text whilst cycling!). When I queried the lack of helmets with a friend of D+D, he told me that it had been discussed at length but it was felt that HAVING to wear helmets gave the wrong message (ie. cycling was potentially dangerous)… and, given that bikers are given priority over vehicles, I think they have a point. Clearly, in the UK (where cycling is a minority pastime and the car is king!), safety considerations make sense.
35.   Very lucky having such lovely, generous Dutch friends and to experience much more of the beautiful Netherlands than just Amsterdam and Utrecht.
A truly lovely holiday.
Photo: Dick+Dientje+us

 

september 2014 books

more book stuff:

Silence (Shusaku Endo): Our latest Book Group book. It’s a profound, disturbing, harrowing novel about a 17^th century Portuguese priest in Japan at the time of great persecution of the small Christian community. Superbly-written and hugely thought-provoking… at various times, I felt as if I was reading extracts from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s prison letters or Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” (compelling, tragic and unrelenting?). Tough, but brilliant!
The Leavetaking (John McGahern): I’m a great lover of McGahern’s writing and this novel simply re-affirmed such a view. It’s about a young schoolteacher in Dublin and is set during his last day in the school (he was about to be formally fired for having married a divorced non-Catholic woman during a leave of absence year). The book is in two parts – both, essentially, flashbacks. The first covers the teacher's childhood up to the moment of his mother's death and the second to how he met his wife, and how the church authorities terminate his employment. The book is apparently a close reflection on McGahern's own experiences of being dismissed from his teaching post in the early 1960s.
Birthday Letters (Ted Hughes): This book of poems was published in 1998, 35 years after his wife’s (Sylvia Plath) suicide. Up until that time, Hughes had said/written virtually nothing about their life together. I started reading this a little time ago and, frankly (as with much poetry!), struggled to come to terms with it. By chance, my great friend Bob Fieldsend had been reading the book in conjunction with Erica Wagner’s “Ariel’s Gift” (see below) and had found it very helpful. He duly lent me his copy… and it’s been a revelation (which probably says an awful lot about some of my previous endeavours to appreciate poetry!). I came to really love Hughes’s eloquence in expressing his emotions, frustrations, fears, sadness and tenderness about his life with Plath. The result is a simply beautiful, intimate, dark, painful book of poems, published 35 years after Plath’s death (and just before he died in 1998) and (mainly) addressed to her… and dedicated to their two children, Frieda and Nicholas. Many critics, it seems, chose to believe that Hughes’s previous reluctance to write or talk about his wife’s death was an admission of his guilt in their relationship… but it seems that the reality is far more complex.
Ariel’s Gift (Erica Wagner): See above! I think Wagner’s book is absolutely excellent – an academic commentary that provided me with both information and insight about Hughes’s and Plath’s lives and their writing. Sylvia Plath only really received recognition as a poet following her death by suicide in 1963. Plath had first attempted to kill herself in 1953, in the USA before she knew Hughes; this was followed by a breakdown and subsequent electro-convulsive therapy.  Her life seems to have been hugely tormented (even haunted?) by her domineering father who died in 1940 (it seems that Hughes became her father figure in the early years of their relationship), when she was eight and by her resentment of her mother.
Note: tragedy seems to have marked Ted Hughes’s relationships, indirectly or directly – he’d begun an affair with Assia Wevill, not long before he and Plath separated, and she too committed suicide in 1969 (she gassed herself along with her daughter by Hughes); and his son Nicholas hanged himself in 2009, aged 47.
Bundle! (Mark Fieldsend): The author is the son of great friend Bob Fieldsend (and Christine!) - who, somewhat bizarrely, I’ve already referred to above. It’s a book about young twenty-somethings, it’s set in Thame (where we used to live) and, at least in part, it’s about celebrity status. Of course, me being a grumpy old man, I rather detest anything related to the word “celebrity” these days (not to mention some twentysomethings!). I have some reservations about the way the story unfolded - I anticipated the way the book might end about three-quarters through it, but convinced myself that that would be too predictable. I was wrong, my initial thoughts proved correct! But this sounds far too negative – the book’s very readable, frequently ridiculous and funny.

politics: is anybody out there? does anybody care?

Somehow, last weekend, after the Scottish Referendum which saw a 84.5% voter-turnout, I was heartened to read articles from a couple of journalists making observations such as: “This campaign wasn’t about politicians persuading people how to vote, but people persuading politicians… and “On both sides of the referendum, people were energised by an astonishing proposition: take everything you're used to in politics and imagine you could put it to one side and start again. At that, the people did the talking and politicians were forced to listen”.

Even I felt somewhat encouraged out of my cynicism.
Since then, of course, we’ve had the Labour Party Conference… and I’m afraid I’m now back fighting my fears that the Tories (perhaps even in collaboration with UKIP, perish the thought) will win next year’s General Election and we can all wave goodbye to public services, the NHS and education as we know it… It seems to me that, despite their continuing lead in the opinion polls (although it’s now down to 2% and apparently shrinking on a daily basis), the Labour Party (and, in particular, its leader) hardly comes across as a credible alternative to the current Tory/LibDem lot in the eyes of the country. Given all that has happened over the past 4 years or so, the Opposition SHOULD have been able to make mincemeat of a whole raft of government policies, but it has categorically failed to do so.  
Journalist Kevin McKenna’s article in today’s Observer is entitled “Labour in Scotland is Dying. Does anybody care?” strikes a similar note in some ways… except that I think that his remarks could be applied to the nation at large.
As some of you will already be aware, my political views are “left-of-centre”. For virtually all of my life, the Labour Party has been the political party with which I most closely identified. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that they now seem only just a little to “left” of the Tories (a slight exaggeration perhaps, but you know what I mean!). So, I find myself left unable to give my backing to ANY of the main political parties.
These days, the ONLY party that I feel able to support and vote for (in both local and national elections) is the Green Party.
Sadly, the chances of the Green Party forming the next government is a somewhat remote possibility. The best I can perhaps realistically hope for is for the Green Party to win say 10-20 seats which would enable it work in collaboration with the majority(?) party and be able to influence government policies for good.
I suspect that there are a lot of people who feel similarly about the inadequacies of the Labour Party and have real fears at the prospect of a right-wing Tory government.      
Sadly, the way the current election process is arranged, the outcome of the next General Election is likely to be decided by the outcome of 25 or so marginal seats. It’s very easy to shake one’s head and sit back and watch as one’s worse fears become reality. The alternative might be to hope for some of that Scottish referendum spirit and for people to make demands of their politicians/parliamentary candidates. 
But hoping won’t be enough… we need urgent grassroots action across the country. People’s passion for politics (not politicians!) needs to be galvanised.
I’ve never been a member of a political party, but I think I’m going to join the Green Party.
Photo: is this the government in waiting or just a rather disillusioned shadow cabinet front bench? (photo from The Observer).

20,000 days on earth

I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see “20,000 days on earth” (directed by Iain Forsyth+Jane Pollard) – a profile of Nick Cave’s first 20,000 days on earth (note: he’s rather more than 10 years younger than me, but I forgot to make a film about my own 20,000^th day)... a line in Cave's songwriting notebook calculating how many days he'd been alive inspired the film's title. I’m a bit of a Cave fan so was really looking forward to seeing the film… and then I noticed a pretty ordinary 3 star review pinned to a wall at the cinema (written by Luke Buckmaster in The Guardian) and, as a result, even vaguely contemplated giving the film a “miss”… but I didn’t.

And I’m very glad I DID persevere.
It’s rather cringingly described as an “intimate access to the man himself”(!). The film will probably be given a “documentary” tag , but it’s very much more than that – in my view at least. It’s a film about Cave’s artistic processes and about the creative process in general. I particularly enjoyed Cave’s discussions with a psychoanalyst about his early years; the involvement+banter between Cave and Warren Ellis (musician/writer); and there was a fascinating “archive section” where Cave talks about his huge collection of photographs, notebooks and the like (which has given rise to the film’s digital partner project “The Museum of Important Shit”!). Crucially, again for me, the film also included footage of Cave in the studio and stage… and, ultimately, him performing with The Bad Seeds at the Sydney Opera House. This closing sequence also, very cleverly and impressively, blended archive performance footage with the Opera House concert.
Absolutely fascinating and very well put together. I really enjoyed it.

  

where do we go from here?

I’m not a Scot and I don’t live in Scotland… so I didn’t get a vote in last week’s referendum. But I’ve been fascinated by the attitude+views of those who did and by the process… and by the fall-out (which will obviously continue over the coming weeks/months/years). As I get older(!), I find that my political views have become more focussed, but I despair whenever politicians tell us that “we’re all in this together”… when we’re clearly not (the rich+the poor/the haves+the have-nots).

Over the years, I’ve become increasingly disillusioned by national politicians (of all parties) and by the focus on London and the Westminster establishment (not to mention the yah-boo politics of PMQs).
Unfortunately, I also feel politically naïve, somewhat apathetic and irrelevant.
The 84.5% referendum turn-out was incredibly impressive (and every vote counted!), but I found it extraordinary (but, somehow, not at all surprising) that it was only after THAT opinion poll (some 10 days before the vote?) which gave the “yes” campaign a lead that there was panic amongst the Westminster mafia. And it was only AFTER THAT that we suddenly started hearing all sorts of back-of-a-fag-packet promises about a better deal for Scotland.
In some ways, I’m left feeling fearful for the future of the UK. I find Cameron’s “English votes for the English” knee-jerk announcement on Friday morning to placate the Tory right-wing and the pressure from UKIP worrying (oh… and would he still be Prime Minister of the whole of the UK?). The Labour Party needs to get its act together… very quickly (I thought Anne McElvoy’s comment in today’s Observer was telling: “Miliband’s outing north of the border looked more like the walkabout of a fast-tracked trainee than the CEO of Labour”.
The fact remains that (in the words of Deborah Orr in yesterday’s Guardian… sorry, I don’t read the Telegraph!) “Cameron has already made it clear that Westminster will be doing the talking and debating, and that the electorate will be doing the listening”.
On the other hand, I feel that the Scottish Referendum could actually have a powerful, galvanising affect on British politics. I found these comments (again in the Observer… sorry!) fascinating and hugely encouraging:
1.    “This campaign wasn’t about politicians persuading people how to vote, but people persuading politicians… At some point in late spring, the official yes campaign lost control as spontaneous small groups set themselves up and breakfast tables, lounge bars, bus top decks and hospital canteens began to talk politics. What sort of Scotland? Why do we tolerate this or that? Now, in Denmark they do it this way…” (Neal Ascherson).
2.    “On both sides of the referendum, people were energised by an astonishing proposition: take everything you're used to in politics and imagine you could put it to one side and start again. At that, the people did the talking and politicians were forced to listen” (Armando Iannucci).
The question is: will anything have changed (for the better) by the time of the General Election? There are just 227 days to go!

juno and the paycock

Moira+I went to the Bristol Old Vic last night to see Sean O’Casey’s “Juno and the Paycock”. It’s a bleak, stark tale of a Dublin family during the time of the Irish Civil War of 1922-3 (there was a certain irony that we saw a play about the bid to establish an independent Ireland on the day of the Scottish referendum result announcement). It was a time of factionalism, great poverty, high infant mortality, awful slum tenement housing, anger and much bitterness.

It doesn’t really sound like a fun way to spend a Friday night does it!
Well, no, it wasn’t fun… but it was a very powerful story of the divide between rich and poor, the hopelessness of the have-nots and desperate survival. I haven’t yet read any reviews of the play but, in her programme notes, director Gemma Bodinetz concluded: “What’s the point of existing without the possibility of laughter, a good tale well told and hope?”. Well, actually, I don’t think there was an awful lot of laughter last night (some, yes, but not much) and certainly not much hope.
In a strange way, having reflected on the play overnight, I've been reminded of various situations highlighted in various “Who Do You Think You Are?” television episodes - when people uncover tragic events and hopeless circumstances relating to their respective ancestors… AND YET, somehow, their families managed to pull through, against all the odds.
This might all sound very negative as far as last night’s “Juno and the Paycock” is concerned? Well, that wasn’t the case at all. The set, the music and the cast were all hugely impressive. The play had a powerful message for audiences today (the divide between rich and poor) and the leading actors Des McCaleer (Captain Jack Boyle) and Niamh Cusack (Juno Boyle) were both excellent – Niamh Cusack was simply superb.
The play ends on 27 September… if you live in the Bristol area, it’s well worth seeing.

 

biking

Perhaps I should start this post with a few admissions…

Firstly, I’ve only got back on my bike fairly recently (after a couple of years of virtual non-cycling), so my views might be a little naïve/fervent; secondly, we’ve just returned from a wonderful few days in the Netherlands, where biking is a completely different experience; and, lastly, I ride simply for pleasure and convenience… I’m not a commuter or a long-distance biker!
As many of you will know, I’ve lived in Bristol for the past 11 years or so. It’s a lovely vibrant city and, as far as biking is concerned, it seems we’re very fortunate. In 2008, it was named as the country’s first “cycling city” and, a couple of years later, a study in Cycling Plus magazine named Bristol the most bike-friendly big city in the UK. It’s true that that there are an increasingly number of cyclists, bike shops and traffic-free routes but, as a recent convert to the benefits of cycling, I think there’s an awful long way still to go.
The car is definitely still king here. A good number of motorists still seem to regard bikers as the scum of the earth/third-class citizens (drivers of lorries, buses and white vans seem to come to the fore on this!). Pedestrians actually aren’t much better – all too frequently completely ignoring bike lane markings and then getting irate when cyclists try to weave their way between them.
It’s all SO different in the Netherlands.
Yes, I know it’s pretty flat, but there’s also a completely different mentality when it comes to cycling. The hierarchy of vehicles, pedestrians and bikers is COMPLETELY different. Even in cities (ok, so I can only speak from experience of Amsterdam and Utrecht!), it seems that cyclists have PRIORITY. There are well-designed, designated cycle-lanes everywhere. Pedestrians are, crucially, “aware” of cyclists and take due account when crossing bike-lanes and the like. Motorists are bottom in the pecking order and seem to take due account of this (in terms of speed, manners etc) whenever bikes and vehicles have to share routes. This may sound like wishful thinking on my part but, having seen it in action, I’ve been very impressed. Significantly, there are also LOTS of bike-parking areas (including a massive 3-storey bike-park in Amsterdam!) and the bike-lanes are CLEARLY marked – usually in a different colour/material to roads and pavements.
While we were in the Netherlands, we also stayed a few days in Houten (a commuter town some 9km south-east of Utrecht, with a population of just under 50,000). It has a large number of child-friendly bike paths and, critically, the road network is NOT designed for through traffic. People are encouraged to travel by bike and train… and they DO (and all ages too!).
Cycling has always been a popular form of transport in the Netherlands (most people have bikes - there are apparently more bikes than people!) but, actually, much of the infrastructure has been built since the 1970s… and has continued to be improved.
Investment has been crucial.
I would certainly accept that Bristol has a few issues when it comes to cycling. For example: a) it’s not exactly flat, b) the transport network has to contend with lots of river crossings and c) it’s probably the worst city in the UK when it comes to getting around by car. But, I would suggest that, with some bold thinking, the city could be transformed when it comes to transportation. Afterall: a) you could always fit a small motor to your bike (as many people in Holland do to offset strong winds – a little expensive, yes, but small change compared with car travel)(and/or get the Council to install a bike-lift for getting up Park Street?), b) they have just a few stretches of water and bridges in Amsterdam and seem to cope(!), c) by making the Bristol ring road WORK and reducing car use drastically within/across the city as far as possible - by making it far more inconvenient to use the car, and d) encouraging more people to use bikes by creating LOTS of “bikes+pedestrians only” streets (car use would be tolerated for access only… and car drivers would have to accept that they’re bottom of the pecking order - SO many potential bikers are put off by the fact that they know they’d have to contend with rude, impatient car/lorry/bus drivers on the same street/thoroughfare as them).
Yes, I know I’m probably being far too optimistic/unrealistic and I also appreciate that such changes won’t happen overnight.
It’s a new MINDSET that’s required.  
Photo: this photograph was taken from our hotel window in Amsterdam – the busy street had two bike lanes (one in each direction!) plus pavements… and cars were tolerated for access only.
PS: Before you strike me down, I’d also be the first to admit that there are some pretty poor/intolerant cyclists too!