Sunday, October 29, 2023

september-october 2023 books…

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

Friday, October 27, 2023

gone fishing...

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

Wednesday, October 04, 2023

talking heads: stop making sense…

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

Saturday, September 30, 2023

cricket #2: another season comes to an end…

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


Friday, September 29, 2023

cricket #1: membership fees…

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

Wednesday, September 27, 2023

kathy+stella solve a murder…

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


Sunday, September 24, 2023

september 2023 books…

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

Friday, September 15, 2023

karine polwart and kitty macfarlane at st george’s…

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

Thursday, September 14, 2023

past lives…

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

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

lockdown revisited…

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


Tuesday, September 05, 2023

august-september 2023 books…

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

Thursday, August 31, 2023

hockney...

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

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

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

the great mountain sheep gather…



This programme was first shown on BBC4 in April 2020. I missed it the first time, but just watched it on iPlayer.
It’s a 100minute documentary about sheep farming on Scafell Pike, England’s tallest mountain, and so you’re probably not interested in watching it… BUT I really think you should.
Every summer, half a dozen shepherds and perhaps 20 sheepdogs gather a flock of 500 native Hardwick sheep from some 1,200 acres(?) and bring them down the mountain to the farm for shearing. It’s an event that has taken place in the Lake District for over a thousand years.
The Great Mountain Sheep Gather charts this journey across the fells with epic bird’s-eye view photography descending into the valley below. The gathering commences at dawn (in thick mist) and takes some 7 hours to complete – over foggy peaks, crags and incredibly rough terrain (no electric quad bikes here!).
As the fog lifts to expose the breathtaking landscape, and the small pockets of sheep merge into one big group, the voice of Lakeland shepherd Andrew Harrison allows us to see this unique world through his eyes – the knowledge of the dogs, farmers and sheep passed down from generation to generation for centuries, the challenges of life in the fells, and the conflict posed by visitors and the 21st century. Harrison explains that some of the smaller farms have been sold and the farmhouses converted to holiday homes. There are less and less experienced farmers and shepherds remaining to pass on knowledge acquired over generations. Harrison talks movingly of the pride and respect he holds for the land and the privilege of doing what he does
The documentary is beautifully put together – with the shepherd’s insights, poetry (written by Mark Pajak), bleats, barks and birdsong echoing down the valley creating an evocative natural soundtrack (no background is required!).
And, of course, once the flock has assembled at the farm, five hundred sheep now have to be sheared! It’s a shepherd’s life…
It’s a quite, quite wonderful and a hugely humbling account of the challenges, skill, knowledge and bravery needed to care for a flock in this rugged land.
PS: I’ve previously read the wonderful James Rebanks’ books ‘English Pastoral’ and ‘The Shepherd’s Life’ - about the Rebanks’ family having been sheep farmers in the fells of the Lake District for several generations and, like Harrison, about his love and pride for the land he farms; for his family; for the knowledge that has been passed down to him (and that he, in turn, will pass on to others); for the way of life (and duty, obligation, continuity, respect…).
PPS: I read an excellent interview with Rebanks’ wife Helen in last Sunday’s ‘Observer Review’… she’s written a book of her own – shining a light on small-scale farming and the pressures of Brexit and the women who frequently hold things together. It’s on my booklist!
PPPS: Will environment minister Thérèse Coffey have a clue about the lives of sheep farmers like Andrew Harrison and James+Helen Rebanks? I suspect not (she’s SO keen on sorting out the state of our rivers, obviously!).

Thursday, August 24, 2023

august 2023 books…

Books And Island In Ojibwe Country (Louise Erdrich): This is our next Storysmith Bookgroup selection. I’d never previously read any of Erdrich’s books (American author of novels, poetry, and children's books featuring Native American characters and settings). Our bookgroup theme was ‘Travel-related’ and this book describes her travels (with her 18-month-old daughter in tow) to the terrain of her ancestors: the lakes and islands of southern Ontario… and yet, it’s rather more than just a journal of her travels. It takes in history, language, songs, spirits, mythology and memoir of her native homeland… and also links ancient stone paintings with a magical island where a bookish recluse built an extraordinary library (note: this recluse, Ernest Oberholtzer, born in 1894, suffered with a heart condition and was told by his doctor that he had just one year to live… so he decided to paddle a canoe through the wilderness of Ojibwe Country… and kept on paddling. He lived to be 93!). As a lover of books and the owner of her own bookshop, Erdrich was clearly in her element. I enjoyed it too.
The Provincial Lady In America (EM Delafield): First published in 1934 (the third volume of Delafield’s “The Diary Of A Provincial Lady”). I loved the first two ‘Provincial Lady’ books and just knew that the third would provide similar amusement and light relief (which it did!). The publishers decide to send the author on tour to America and the book starts by how she imparts this news to her family and neighbours. Her circumstances have somewhat changed - by now, she is ‘somewhat famous’, travels First Class (except that travels back to the UK ‘tourist class’ as the publishers are no longer trying to impress Americans!), and is photographed as she disembarks the ship at New York. The trip is a series of whirlwind tours - being whisked from mansion to mansion, combined with endless cocktails and pompous speaking engagements - and all surrounded, it seems, by a host of millionaires (which, given that the diary was written in the throes of the Depression and never mentioned, seems somewhat puzzling). Her observations of the characters she met and the circumstances in which she found herself are rather wonderful and very amusing. I enjoyed the book enormously (just one more book left in the series!).
The Satsuma Complex (Bob Mortimer): This is Mortimer’s first novel (I very much enjoyed his autobiography ‘And Away’). It’s a crime novel, set in south London, involving police corruption, domestic violence, murder… and LOTS of absurd, surreal humour. The main character, Gary, is a shy, legal assistant at a firm of solicitors - who lives something of hum-drum life and conducts conversations with a passing squirrel (you perhaps wouldn’t have expected anything less from the author!). In truth, it‘s quite page-turner… although there’s a large part of me that somewhat resents how readily ‘celebrities’ are able to write work that achieves the ‘Sunday Times’ bestsellers list when far more gifted authors fail to get recognised (or even published). Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the book and liked the main characters… but Bob Mortimer is no Richard Osman!
Stories We Tell Ourselves (Richard Holloway): The book’s sub-title is: ‘Making Meaning in a Meaningless Universe’. I’ve long been an admirer of Holloway’s writings and thinking and I’ve read several of his books. This book (published in 2020) explores the stories we’ve been told about where we come from and about getting through “this muddling experience of life”. It’s thought-provoking, challenging, compassionate and wise. I continue to find myself agreeing with Holloway’s views on a lot of things in his own personal spiritual journey. In 2000, he’d basically given up on the church (you might recall that he’d previously been Bishop of Edinburgh) but, over subsequent years, he’s found himself slowly “slipping back” into the place where his prayers had once “been valid”. He’s an advocate of Jesus, but definitely NOT of the Church (or, some respects, even of God)… and, clearly from reviews of the book, such views attract strong support and opposition from both sides of the argument (I’m tending to go along with Holloway!). “The resistance goes on, though the Church that calls itself after Christ has rarely ever tried to join it, or never for long. Often it has done the opposite. It has followed the world’s style in its own institutional life. It has been one of the cruellest and least forgiving institutions in history… No, the Church never really tried to live the Jesus-life. What it did was to keep his story alive. Even as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats, Christians were compelled to listen to it. Week after week and day after day, the story was read to them”. I could go on… but I trust you get the general drift (and, again, I’m with him in large part). I think now might be a good time to re-read his book ‘The Heart of Things: Memory and Lament’.
Girl (Edna O’Brien): This is a novel (published in 2019) based on the horrific trauma of Nigeria’s abducted schoolgirls from the Government Girls Secondary School in the town of Chibok in 2014 by the Islamic terrorist group Boko Haram. One of the girls, Maryam, is the story’s narrator. Following her ‘capture’, she has given birth, and she and her daughter have somehow escaped from the compound, where she had been raped many times and then forced into marriage and motherhood… the trauma of her abduction wrecks her family (or what’s left of it). It’s all pretty devastatingly shocking (and feels amazing ‘real’). Politicians trying to take credit for other people’s actions and sacrifices… but also the kindness of some brave women who helped some of the other ‘Maryams’ survive. O’Brien spent several months in Africa researching for the book - meeting women who’d suffered at the hands of Boko Harum, together with a whole host of volunteers, doctors and trauma specialists… and such experiences obviously played a vital part in helping her convey the terror so palpably real. I’m a huge fan of O’Brien’s writing and I found this book incredibly powerful and impressive (no surprises there). Man’s inhumanity to man laid bare. 

Tuesday, August 08, 2023

july-august 2023 books…

Drawn From Life (Steve Hurst): An account of the author’s experiences and reflections on his life as a student at Oxford’s Ruskin School of Drawing and Fine Art (1949-1953). Set against the background of an austerity Britain in the immediate aftermath of WW2 (and leaning heavily on Hurst’s contemporary diaries), it explores his journey as he tries to assess if the world of art has a place for him. The book is both a personal and a social history of that time. Moira came across this book while we were staying in Oxford for a few days and so, given that Hurst was describing places that we knew well (from Sandford village on the edge of Oxford to numerous city locations) and that resonated with our own student days – albeit that they were some 20 years after Hurst’s own time… the ‘growing up’ challenges; relationships; class differences; self-confidence (and the lack of it!); self-questioning etc. Things had changed quite considerably by the time we began our studies in Oxford (eg. available grants, no national service etc) but, nevertheless, Hurst’s account makes fascinating reading.
The Solace Of Fierce Landscapes (Belden C Lane): This is a rather special book… exploring desert and mountain spirituality. I love reading about mountains and deserts (over the years, I’ve read several books about them) – despite having never really experienced any of them first hand (and I have a fear of heights!). In some ways, I suppose I’d hoped that the book would help point the way out of my own spiritual wilderness, but it didn’t. But I did find it incredibly helpful in a variety of ways. I found his references to the lives of the desert fathers and mothers fascinating and also how these challenging locations and experiences haven’t just been limited to the Christian faith… the book contains numerous references to Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists as well as Tibetan mythology and Chinese traditions. I was relieved that the book wasn’t full of biblical references (these days, I find I’m struggling with a lot of biblical stuff!), but it did include words which resonated for me, such as: “If you cannot go into the desert, you must nonetheless ‘make some desert’ in your life”. It was good that Lane didn’t over-romanticise the desert and mountain experiences/references… and that he was able to point to some of the terrors and tussles of the wilderness/mountainous terrains as well as providing glimpses of their majesty. Throughout the book, the author interweaves his mother’s long struggle with Alzheimer’s and cancer with meditations of his own “wilderness experiences” – which I found both helpful and illuminating. I could write so much more on Lane’s book, but I think I’ll leave it at that. Beautifully written and something of an oasis, perhaps, for me.
More Work For The Undertaker (Margery Allingham): First published in 1949. The book focuses on Apron Street, an isolated neighbourhood in London… going ‘up Apron street’ has become a byword for a criminal vanishing. Undertakers are kept busy accordingly and bankers become involved with the eccentric Palinode family, which has inherited shares of stock once thought worthless. I’d read a number of Allingham novels, but had never really ‘warmed’ to her Campion character – unlike a number of my good friends who very much rate him. So, this was another attempt to become a fan… Yes, it’s an impressive, clever, complex storyline and, yes, I was rather more impressed by Campion, BUT I also found the novel rather annoying at times. There were far too many characters for my liking and it took me ages to get them clear(ish) in my head (on the other hand, it might just be my lack of intellect of course!). In addition, I frequently found Allingham’s written dialogues very confusing… and kept having to re-read them to discover who was actually speaking (again, it might just be me – but I did find this happening time after time). It took me about a third of the book to properly ‘get into the story’ and, once I did, found it intriguing. I’m a great lover of crime novels but, frankly, have yet to become a huge fan of Allingham’s writing (sorry!).
A Terrible Kindness (Jo Browning Wroe): It’s October 1966 and 19 year-old William Lavery has just qualified as an outstanding embalmer (I know!) and is about to celebrate at a posh black-tie dinner, but news comes through of a landslide at Aberfan… and there are lots of fatalities. Lavery feels the need to help as a volunteer. The story fluctuates from his time, nine years earlier, when he’s a chorister in Cambridge to perhaps 6 years beyond the Aberfan disaster. The novel’s about families, relationships, grieving and kindness (among other things). It’s very readable (I read the 380-page book in less than 3 days) and is full of quite moving passages… but I also found it somewhat annoying (and frequently predictable). I didn’t warm to the William character (or his mother) and frequently found the writing style and narrative (particularly in the first third of the book) somewhat clumsy and ungainly as far as character and dialogue were concerned. I became regularly irritated by what I felt was the author ‘showing off’ that she’d done her research about Aberfan, choristers, ‘pop music’ of the time, homophobia, embalmers and locations in the West Midlands (where she grew up) and Cambridge (where she now lives). The book-cover is full of glowing praise for the book – but I noticed that they ALL seemed from female writers/critics(?). To sum up: I enjoyed it and was exasperated by it in equal measure!
The High House (Jessie Greengrass): This incredibly moving novel describes the climate crisis as not just a possibility, but grounded in REALITY (as the book’s cover puts it: “You think you have time. And then, all at once, you don’t”). Perched on a hill above a village by the sea, the high house has a mill, a vegetable garden and a barn full of supplies. A girl and her younger half-brother arrive there one day and find it cared for by an elderly man and his granddaughter (I’ll the background details!). They learn to live together and care for one another… in a world that is fast disintegrating – islands are disappearing due to rising tides; weather extremes are becoming normal; the changing climate is even starting to have devastating effects on those privileged countries of the ‘western world’… in the UK, villages are being abandoned during the ‘winter’ months (and, even in the ‘summer’, are only occupied by those with second homes); flooding has become a dangerous reality for people who never imagined that their homes would be at risk etc etc. The novel doesn’t have a specific time-scale, but there are references to the grandfather listening to “Children’s Hour” on the radio as a youngster (so I suspect he was born around the same time as me – say 1949)… and, in the book, he’s reached a somewhat doddery ‘old age’ – so, I imagined the book being set perhaps ten or fifteen years hence(?). I’ve read a lot about the Climate Crisis (and all the frustrations that go with it – the lack of action by governments, including ours, throughout the world etc) and, yes, I appreciate that this is a novel and not an academic analysis but, for me, this book has provided the most effective and compelling description of the REALITY of the nature of the Climate Crisis we face and its imminent threat to our world. In the circumstances, it might seem rather frivolous to say that I REALLY enjoyed this book (but I did!). It’s beautifully written and, as the Sunday Times’ reviewer puts it: “full of elegant, resonant sentences about human fallibility, complacency, selfishness and our unquenchable capacity for love”. I think you definitely need to read this book.   
Footnote: I started reading ‘The High House’ on the same day that I’d finished ‘Terrible Kindness’ and was immediately struck by the huge difference in the quality of the writing. Wroe’s ‘Kindness’ showed her skills as a storyteller (despite her ‘clunky’ writing style), whereas Greengrass’s ‘High House’ was altogether more impressive and accomplished (like suddenly being to relax when a brilliant actor arrives on stage and spoke his/her first lines and you just KNEW everything was going to be ‘ok’). 

Monday, July 24, 2023

oxford recollections…

Moira and I have just returned from a few days in Oxford, enjoying re-visiting some old haunts from our student days. As you might imagine, the trip brought back lots of memories for both of us…
For me, arriving in the city in September 1967 to begin my studies at Oxford School of Architecture… coming from Handsworth in Birmingham, Oxford was a huge contrast (understatement).
Looking back, I realise just how lucky I was to have been able study away from home and, obviously, in such a beautiful city like Oxford. Exploring new places from scratch, meeting new people, facing new challenges… such as coping financially, dealing with problems, accommodation, food… and, of course, making one’s own mistakes (and sorting them out!).
I feel sorry for those in higher education who don’t have the opportunity to live away from home for a while.
Oxford is clearly a very beautiful, small city – dominated by its University Colleges – but also one in which ‘privilege’ has prevailed (and, perhaps one would say, continues to prevail). Fortunately, I had very little to do with the university… apart from watching cricket in University Parks; attending a May Ball at Exeter College; being present at a number of outdoor theatrical performances in various College grounds; standing along the riverbank watching Eights Week activities; and I vaguely remember attending some disco or other at Queens College.
I got to know my way around Oxford quite quickly – thanks to fellow first year students Steve, Age and JohnTrem (who became lifelong friends). We decided to meet up for a cheap omelette lunch (at an upper floor café on the High Street) every Saturday during the first term before exploring various colleges and their grounds. By our first Christmas in Oxford, we knew the city pretty well.
From the start, I absolutely loved the Cherwell and Thames rivers running through the city… Christchurch Meadow was (and still is) a real favourite place; University Parks; Port Meadow; Shotover Hill; Boars Hill; Osney; Jericho; Botanical Gardens; Magdalen Bridge; Iffley; the ‘Turf’, ‘Trout’ and ‘Perch’ pubs.… so many places.
The punting in the summer (I got to become quite a good punter!)… from Magdalen Bridge or the Cherwell Boathouse up to the Vicky Arms.
You could buy half a pint of mild at the White Hart in Old Headington for 6 pence halfpenny (that’s 6.5d OLD money!) and we regularly used to go drinking at the Turf on a Friday night… and each drink 8 pints @ 2s 6d a pint (spending £ONE POUND in the process!)!
There were few ‘Rag Weeks’ during my time at college… one of which included a 24 hour café and an attempt to ‘Drink the Turf Dry’ (which I endeavoured to do single-handed as I recall… and ending up slumped in a fireplace at the 24 hour café having completely failed to do so).
May Morning was a rather special time… huge crowds gathering below Magdalen Tower at 6am while the choir sang. Crowded streets, Morris Dancers, people jumping off bridges… people queuing for breakfasts (and beer!). Mom and Dad joined Moira and me on one occasion and were absolutely mesmerised by it all (in a good way!).
There was also St Giles Fair… taking over St Giles every Autumn.
Of course, crucially, Oxford was also the place where Moira and I first met (31 October 1969!)… she was studying languages at the Poly.
Sunday afternoon walks with Steve, Bev, Age, Jane, Ted and Val became part of a regular routine… and always finished off with our homemade “Mrs Blenkins’ scones”.
Later, when I worked for The Oxford Architects Partnership (35 Queen Street, 1972-76), the office had a cricket team (of sorts) and we were hugely fortunate to be able to play on various College pitches (after the end of the summer term)… Worcester, New College, University/Corpus Christi.
Moira and I married in 1972 and continued to live Oxford until 1982. We rented places in Oakthorpe Road and Osberton Road, Summertown before buying our first home in Percy Street, off the Iffley Road… and, of course, our three daughters (Ruth, Hannah and Alice) were all born in Oxford.
So, Oxford: a very special place!


Saturday, July 22, 2023

june-july 2023 books…

The Company Of Heaven (Catherine Fox): This is the fifth Catherine Fox book I’ve read over the past eight years or so. As with the previous books, it’s based in the fictional diocese of Lindchester and, once again, follows some of its beloved characters. It was originally written in real time (more or less) in the form of a weekly blog and continues (from the writer’s previous book) on Easter Monday 2021 – just as the pandemic’s third lockdown draws to a close. Fox is a wonderful writer and she manages to convey the uncertainties of the incredibly challenging times with heart, humour and insight… as well as providing us with a compelling, powerful reminder of what we all went through (with some pertinent political ‘digs’ and observations). At times (as with her previous Lindchester books), it almost felt as if we were following the characters from BBC radio’s ‘The Archers’ (except that I haven’t actually tuned in for more than 30 years, so how would I know?!). Frankly, such thoughts would have put me off from reading Fox’s books… but, ridiculously perhaps, she does have the ability to make you want to know more about the story’s characters as well as leaving you with a sense of hope and a reminder of the goodness of people, even in the darkest times. Another enjoyable read.
The Clocks (Agatha Christie): More ‘comfort reading’ (from our huge pile of Christie books)! This one first published in 1963. For the first 100 pages or so, I was utterly intrigued by this ‘mystery novel’… a blind woman; an unidentified dead man found in her house; four strange clocks all showing the same time left in the house; a woman from a typing agency specifically asked to meet at the house – only to find the body. As ever with a Christie novel, it’s a clever, intricate plot but, for me, the storyline became a little too far-fetched (and with some unnecessary romantic tangents) with eventual revelations about A being linked to B… who was subsequently found to be associated with C etc etc (and, of course, with various red-herrings along the way). Clever, but not altogether 100% convincing in my view (by 1963, she was 73… so might have been losing her touch?!) but, hey, another enjoyable read nevertheless.
Take Two At Bedtime (Margery Allingham): I think I’ve previously read three Allingham books and, while I’ve enjoyed her writing style, I have to say that I found her ‘Albert Campion’ character a little ‘wearing’! This book (first published in 1950, but originally published in US magazines in the 1940s) does NOT feature Campion(!) and takes the form of two novellas/short(ish) stories: ‘Wanted’: Someone Innocent’ and ‘Last Act’… and, I have to say, I really enjoyed them. Two stories of tension and suspense. One concerns a young woman hired as ‘a sort of social secretary’, but who has no idea of the atmosphere of evil that goes with the job. The other relates the last act in the career of an old French actress, who names her murderer before the final curtain. Unfortunately, both stories included romance at the heart of the mysteries – but, hey!
Lessons In Chemistry (Bonnie Garmus): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (theme: debut books). The story starts in the early 1950s, in the world of the Hastings Research Institute, Southern California – where we follow the relationship of a brilliant, prize-winning scientist (despite his grudge-holding grumpiness) and a very determined research scientist (who found it almost impossible for people to take her seriously – because of her sex). In the words of the novel’s opening chapter: “Back in 1961, when women wore shirtwaist dresses and joined garden clubs and drove legions of children around in seatbeltless cars without giving it a second thought…”. Chemist Elizabeth Zott’s all male team at the Institute take a very unscientific view of equality. Ridiculously, she is forced to resign and, very reluctantly (without any experience of such things), she signs on as a host of a 6pm television cooking show… and “so a legion of overlooked housewives find themselves daring to change the status quo” (according to the book’s cover). I really enjoyed this book (despite its too-good-to-be-true positivity). It’s funny, very readable and ridiculously joyful (it WILL lift your spirits!)… and I loved the characters – especially the dog (named ‘Six-Thirty’!).
Seven Dead (J Jefferson Farjeon): I bought this book (first published in 1939) while we were away in Oxford – having finished the one book I’d taken with me. The story tells of an amateur thief who discovers seven dead bodies in the house he’s chosen to rob. A detective inspector takes on the case with the help of a passing yachtsman (as you do!). The search for the absent owners takes the yachtsman across the Channel to Boulogne, where he finds “more than one motive to stay and investigate” (in the words of the book’s flysheet… note: there’s an attractive woman involved!). I’d previously read one of Farjeon’s books and enjoyed it – but that’s more than I can say for this one! I found the characters here one laughably wooden; the dialogue utterly appalling (it seems that all thieves and police constables are basically ‘thick’, while the inspectors and yachtsmen are frightfully well-educated and middle-class); and the plot implausibly concocted for my liking. Clearly, it’s a book of its time and is very ‘dated’ accordingly – but I really did think it was pretty awful. 

Thursday, July 06, 2023

'as you like it' at the RSC and my ageing brother…

It’s my lovely brother’s 70th birthday next month and so, as one of the activities for his ‘Birthday Festival’, we went to the RSC at Stratford to see Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It’ (directed by Omar Elerian).
Somewhat fittingly (I’ll pretend it was all part of my cunning plan), the current production featured actors who were 70+ years (as well as four young, talented actors at the beginning of their careers) and focussed on age and the ageing process in general… and with lots of humour. Rediscovering the themes of freedom and love from the perspective of older age.
 
This was a somewhat different version of the play: Set in a rehearsal room, the cast are presented as gathering to remember a production they created when young (back in 1978). Reflecting on the memories – both happy and sad – and the wonder of it all. There’s something rather wonderful about acknowledged performers in the ‘later stages’ of their careers being able to demonstrate their undoubted skills and experience while enjoying the camaraderie of the past, while performing roles written for actors 50 years their juniors! It’s all played out with lots of humour – the ‘fight scenes’, for example, being little more than awkward grappling as opponents readily acknowledged that they ‘couldn’t do it anymore’!
The quality of the acting was predictably high and, in particular, I was really impressed with the performances of Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando) – and I thought GJ was looking rather wonderful for a 72 year-old! – capturing the innocent of excitement of first love.
The play is also about memories – both happy and sad – the people we love; the things we recall; the things we’ve forgotten; the places we’ve seen; the things we might have done; the things we have achieved; the wonder of it all… and, of course, the things still to come.
But, what about the Forest of Arden? The audience is left with imagining the forest until the very end, when the forest was revealed in all its glory. The only disappointment for me about this dramatic scene was that the cast spoke their words from the very back of the stage AND with their backs to the audience – which made audibility less than ideal (I’m sure I wasn’t the only audience member to think this). Fortunately, this was followed by Rosalind’s rather beautiful adapted epilogue (performed facing the audience!) endorsing love at all ages.
But, as ever for me, what I REALLY love about theatre is the ‘live performance’ of it all… what you’re seeing is a one-off… the excitement, the uncertainty, the promise and the drama of it all.
I REALLY enjoyed this production… an absolute treat.
Photo (copyright RSC): Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando).

Tuesday, June 27, 2023

june 2023 books…

The Provincial Lady Goes Further (EM Delafield): Delafield’s novel ‘The Diary Of A Provincial Lady’ is in four parts (this is number two, published in 1932; I read the first one last October). Again, I thoroughly enjoyed this book – it’s beautifully-written, satirical diary of a social climber living in rural Devonshire. Once again, the provincial lady faces the problems of never having enough money, an unruly house and garden, problems recruiting staff, never well-read enough, never attractive enough etc. In this account, she becomes a published author and, as a result, feels she needs to find herself a London ‘flat’ where she can focus on her writing. Needless to say, not much actual writing gets done – as her city social life rather ‘gets in the way’ (and, of course, she’s always fretting that she hasn’t got the appropriate clothes, compared with her friends, or money to compete with them). Her wonderful, boring, mono-syllabic husband, Robert, is again a star. As before, an absolute joy to read.
The Hollow (Agatha Christie): First published in 1946 (our copy 1961, priced 2s6d)… another of the extensive batch of Christie novels on our bookshelves! In some ways, opting to read Agatha Christie feels like a ‘cop out’ but, in the complex and often depressing world, knowing you can rely on her to come up with an intriguing, entertaining plot feels sufficient! Yes, this mystery has all the usual clichés – the titled upper class family, the country house, the servants, a murder… oh, and, of course, Hercule Poirot! Cleverly plotted (with lots of pointers towards different individuals as being the ‘guilty party’) - occasionally a little too contrived perhaps – but satisfying nevertheless.
Rogue Male (Geoffrey Household): First published in 1939. I bought this book for Moira initially, but she decided that it wasn’t quite her ‘thing’ as far as ‘classic thrillers’ were concerned. It’s considered to be “one of the classic thrillers of the 20th century”. An Englishman plans to assassinate the dictator of a European country, but is foiled at the last minute and captured by ruthless torturers and then thrown over a cliff. But he falls into a marsh whose softness saves his life. He takes refuge in a tree, and then begins, desperately wounded, to make his way towards the coast. The hunter has become the hunted. That’s as much as I’ll explain… All that I’ll add is that it’s a brilliant, intricate plot – carefully compiled and entirely convincing in all its details. A real escape and pursue adventure.
Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Dog (Dylan Thomas): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup selection: ten, wonderfully evocative short stories by the exceptional Dylan Thomas (first published in 1940). The stories – written in his 20s - are a wonderful mix… autobiographical, with boyhood recollections of family life (and his relatives); dreams of fame and fortune as a budding poet; poverty and unemployment; searching for love (and all the frustrations). Some are just very funny; some are pure nostalgia; some are achingly poignant. As you would expect, the prose and the descriptions are rather brilliant… and made me attempt to read long passages/meandering sentences to myself out loud(!). Think it’s time I re-read ‘Under Milk Wood’!
H Is For Hawk (Helen Macdonald): This is our Blokes’ latest book. As a child, the author was determined to become a falconer(?)… and read all the classic books on the subject. Years later, when her father died and she was deeply affected by grief, she became obsessed with the idea of training her own goshawk… and ended up purchasing ‘Mabel’ (the author’s choice of name) and taking her home to Cambridge and beginning the long, strange business of trying to train this ‘wildest of creatures’. It’s a rather beautiful book (she’s an excellent writer). It’s not just about the long process of training a goshawk, it’s also a book about memory and grieving. Part of the book is taken up with her fascination of TH White’s book ‘The Goshawk’ (first published in 1951), telling his own story of trying to train a wild goshawk. Although I could understand how White’s experience had been the trigger for Macdonald’s own determination to train a goshawk, I felt that it took up too much of her ‘story’. On the other hand, I thought her description of the twin challenges of trying to deal with the death of her father and training Mabel were both heartfelt and quite profound. Macdonald is a writer, naturalist, and an Affiliated Research Scholar at the University of Cambridge Department of History and Philosophy of Science (she had studied English at Cambridge) – but one of the things that struck me most in reading the book was that she was, essentially, quite a lonely person and that her love of her goshawk made up for needing relationships with people… but, hey, what do I know? I’m probably wrong. As someone who loves to watch birds in flight, but absolutely hates the very idea of actually touching one (having a bird trapped in our house in Thame – it fell down the chimney – was an absolute nightmare!!), reading a book about birds was a mixed blessing… BUT Macdonald is a very good writer and I enjoyed her story (and learnt a lot about hawks!).