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Two More Poets

John — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 20:19:24 +0000

In brief, I’ve just finished reading two slim volumes that proved well worth studying. Just published is Graham High’s “The Range-Finder’s Field Glasses” from Oversteps Books — tight yet lyrical love poems, reminiscences of his father, sustained metaphors arising out of nature, a fascination with the sea shore.

From 1993, Mairi MacInnes Bloodaxe publication “Elsewhere and Back — New and Selected Poems”, the record of a long life lived thoughtfully and adventurously both in the UK and the US, observing hardships and joys, the shape of people’s lived lives.

Getting Around to Wuthering Heights

John — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 17:51:56 +0000

As someone who got a IIi Honours Degree in English and American Literature in 1970 I might be forgiven if I said I had read “Wuthering Heights” and forgotten much of it — less understandable perhaps will be the admission that I had never read Wuthering Heights until last week. What was your University thinking, you may ask, to award a degree to someone who had ignored the Brontes ? I wondered this too, but was greatly encouraged to discover one acquaintance with an English Degree who hadn’t read anything pre-1900, and another who hadn’t read any Chaucer for his. O tempora, o mores !

Anyway, I’m really glad I left “W.H.” until I was old enough to appreciate it. I found that the 19th century device of having a first person narrator to provide a frame, sometimes irritating, was in this case fascinating — the first layer of an onion-skin of narrators, of which the main one, Ellen (Nelly Dean), is far from a detached observer, and whose actions and interference, or lack of interference, drive the plot. There’s so much we don’t know, because we only see it through her eyes, or by her recounting what she has been told by yet another narrator. Illness and isolation; loneliness and lust; power and greed; nature and nurture. I won’t say good and evil, for that’s too glib an interpretation. I shall pass the gift shops of Haworth with a bit more respect in future. Incidentally, I gather I have been fortunate not to have seen the recent film.

Unwontedly Warm

John — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 20:20:49 +0000

Talk about going to Birmingham by way of Beachey Head. Low Catton via Escrick, Wheldrake, Elvington, Sutton-on-Derwent and Wilberfoss is also pretty perverse, and that was before a drop had been taken. A glorious and unseasonably warm autumn day — countryside as beautiful as I have ever seen it in a combination of low sun, leaves beginning to turn, harvested fields, ploughing begun, and green still the predominant colour after the comparatively wet summer. At Low Catton the Gold Cup inn was happy to serve a refreshing pint of Theakston’s bitter, and provide some tasty sandwiches. (Top Tip — go for the crusty roll version, it’s worth the extra quid to avoid the sliced version of bread.) And so back via the old viaduct at Stamford bridge, across the fields to Dunnington, and the Tang Hall cycle track, now through the at last under way housing development at Derwentthorpe, with nary a newt in sight.

Yorkshire delights

John — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 18:34:20 +0000

A whole weekend of them ! Scarborough for sandcastles, sea, donkey rides and ice cream,

then the gallopers / carousel in York, and finally a circular bike tour to the south-west of York past the harvest in progress, to Bolton Percy and the deservedly famous D’Oylys tea rooms where we managed to fight the wasps off our scones laden with butter jam and cream. And it didn’t rain !

Great Yorkshire Show, Again

John — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 11:30:05 +0000

Not a lot changes at the Great Yorkshire Show but it’s re-assuring to see that there are still pigs, cows, goats, sheep, pigeons, and horses and willing to come and be judged. And so much tempting food ! I didn’t make the jellied eels mistake this year, but stocked up on Seabrooks Crisps — all the wondrous flavours that the supermarkets don’t keep in. One thing that stood out, however, was the contrast in commentary styles. The main arena is all very straight-laced and measured, whereas the two blokes commenting on the sheep-shearing were clearly from another, non-PC, misogynistic era, picking on “posh totty” in the audience, and generally pandering to the imagined interests of macho sheep-shearing men.

But I love it all, the stands selling waxed jackets, rosettes, hoof oil, the sort of trousers that go up at the back where you fix the braces, the men in suits and bowlers who ride on electric buggies, the dairymen’s bar, the pigmen’s bar, the British Charolais society’s clubroom, the leggy models in clumps of feather and fur at the fashion show, the Semen world hospitality caravan, morning prayers round the bandstand, the cattle parade and of course, the show-jumping. Sitting on the grass in the early evening, the crowds thinning, watching the beautiful strong horses soaring over the rails, the walls, the water, against the clock, is a pleasure I want to go on enjoying for many more years yet.

Remembering Lawrence

John — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 20:13:17 +0000

For years I have been saying what a great film “Lawrence of Arabia” was — the Peter O’Toole version. And how wonderful the opening shot was, of Omar Sharif riding out of the desert sunset towards Lawrence. Then, seeing it again, the surprise that it wasn’t the opening scene at all (though I did remember what is the opening scene, the motorbike death crash). In fact, I’d conflated three shots: one of the sun rising over the desert horizon, the one with Sharif coming out of the desert, which is not a continuous shot, but interrupted by cuts to Lawrence and his guide, and a later one of Lawrence coming out of the distance having rescued an arab comrade. And there were great stretches of the film that I didn’t remember at all. Of course, it is nearly 40 years since I first saw it — a lot of sand across the desert since then.

Wolds Ride

John — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 21:38:13 +0000

A beautiful Spring day so off by train to Brough and through Elloughton and up onto the Wolds through a delightful gentle long wooded valley from Brantingham. Dogs’ Mercury about the only wild plant daring to show itself, though the trees were just beginning to bud, the beginnings of that wonderful green sheen when Spring has really taken. On a long descent near Kiplingcotes, the hedges ahead had just that purplish tinge that Hockney lends to his Wolds paintings. No hares this time, even on the high chalk fields, and no lambs yet.

East was East, now West is West

John — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 18:26:07 +0000

Follow up film — taking the mixed race Salford chip-shop-owning family back to the father’s roots, and first wife, in Pakistan. Whereas East is East was largely a comedy, this is much darker, filling in the background which the father … Continue reading →

Bleak Midwinter

John — Mon, 03 Jan 2011 17:46:14 +0000

Readers with long memories may remember concerns about the fish in our garden pond. At the moment several fish are visible — at least two are swimming very slowly around, two more are trapped in a persistent layer of ice just below the surface of the pond. The surface layer melts as the temperature rises to 4 or 5 degrees C but there’s a persistent thickness of an inch or two below that, dating to the minus 9 or 10 nights we had a fortnight ago. When that melts we shall be able to compile the full casualty list — including frogs, at least one of which is likewise inelegantly trapped in the ice.

On the bright side, the goldfinches and bluetits have returned from wherever little birds go when it’s so cold, also blackbirds, a chaffinch or two, and more woodpigeons than I really want. My squirrel-shooting water pistol has unfrozen too, but the varmints scapa as soon as I pick it up.

Query: is “scapa” from “scapa flow” = “go” ?

Another Pleasurable Transit

John — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 14:27:25 +0000

Fleeing yet another night under canvas in the muddy fields of Holland, having arrived at the Hook I made for the ferry. The terminal is next to the rail station, and has level access with travelators right up to the ship. You can check in until 45 minutes before departure. Blissful hot shower en suite in cabin. On arrival at Harwich, again level access right to the platform — trains all connected through to York with no delays (3 changes) so home by 11am. Travel the way it ought to be.