tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67438817612921403562024-03-13T12:40:13.743-07:00Objects of InterestRebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-7725691208156463802024-03-12T07:35:00.000-07:002024-03-13T12:39:10.477-07:00#66: Watching the detectives <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-l9E8VccJcZ1WKi7NB3_2S-adNLJIRDh_mQOj1yQsgrpA4GtTm1u_iCPyzZPk720tL8yBmJZwsnvGGGTP77iJpcOj1tmVK7bAYqF6UZKgGeLZYGh5_M_nJddmd3mVKyJVexBClxVlaJ0sz7YZdnd7yWguJeNhyn8sThzBnjSVG0j8CqDA7ICBITj9qw/s1600/Detective%20agency.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd-l9E8VccJcZ1WKi7NB3_2S-adNLJIRDh_mQOj1yQsgrpA4GtTm1u_iCPyzZPk720tL8yBmJZwsnvGGGTP77iJpcOj1tmVK7bAYqF6UZKgGeLZYGh5_M_nJddmd3mVKyJVexBClxVlaJ0sz7YZdnd7yWguJeNhyn8sThzBnjSVG0j8CqDA7ICBITj9qw/s320/Detective%20agency.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal">On a list of my favourite luxuries, listening to detective
stories would come pretty high. Intricate plotting, puzzling details which are
all smoothed out at the end, broadbrush and bold
characterisation — the flirt, the unhappy lover, the observant housemaid — and an
action-centred story with little introspective agonising. And on top of that,
characterful, endearing, quirky detectives. Here are my favourites.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>My top six detectives</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">In no particular order:<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aYQ0ui5UitGNE7ld4DATzDl6QL_DTYJi7uU7cllfbEjkcmrm1BDYFHllG-rlUbLZQNFxh40zGysE5y6Ko3NZes_04MiA_ympb2H-VoumbEn4gNr-N9-N9GIZ1aih2akiuXGBpNLcmVWeuITFcBaI6ZNf5Obir0ENquSsuspjK5D9BTWh_uw8f0Wvv-A/s640/whimsy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aYQ0ui5UitGNE7ld4DATzDl6QL_DTYJi7uU7cllfbEjkcmrm1BDYFHllG-rlUbLZQNFxh40zGysE5y6Ko3NZes_04MiA_ympb2H-VoumbEn4gNr-N9-N9GIZ1aih2akiuXGBpNLcmVWeuITFcBaI6ZNf5Obir0ENquSsuspjK5D9BTWh_uw8f0Wvv-A/s320/whimsy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian Carmichael as Lord Peter Wimsey</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">1. <b>Lord Peter Wimsey</b>, Dorothy Sayers’s tweedy sleuth, as portrayed
by Ian Carmichael in the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03j865z/episodes/player" target="_blank">BBC Radio 4 series</a>. His dropped gs (havin’, goin’ to)
and question tag ‘ain’t it?’ are an endearing part of his upper-class speech.
His faithful, stolid, literal-minded manservant Bunter provides the crucial
assistance in untangling intricately plotted, usually rural, crimes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">2. <b>Mma Ramotswe</b>, proprietor of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_No._1_Ladies%27_Detective_Agency" target="_blank">No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency</a>, in Alexander McCall Smith’s series of novels. She initially employs a
secretary, Mma Makutsi (proud recipient of 97% in the Botswana College of
Secretarial and Office Skills), not because she has enough work (she doesn’t),
but because no self-respecting detective can work without a secretary.
Motivation for crimes runs deep and moral choices must be made by the two
ladies. For example, should a client be told about his wife being adulterous with
a richer man if spilling the beans would mean his son would be deprived of an
expensive education?<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbglFKtM1SJr1GU-RNh9vSA8KSGTtEauIu_qIzQofKqdzO_e92oRPK3r52RvXXkvNKzCXfHsOwkesSsQ2v1F-vSMBf6bECc51duqDm-revgESezibpO1w8kxhB3WryIZxJ8yR8AqLAFsfZsRWySQQAkIhgT7gjlAFNJVeYUotb78dwOzrH3KQTA1Lz3U/s640/Pyro.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbglFKtM1SJr1GU-RNh9vSA8KSGTtEauIu_qIzQofKqdzO_e92oRPK3r52RvXXkvNKzCXfHsOwkesSsQ2v1F-vSMBf6bECc51duqDm-revgESezibpO1w8kxhB3WryIZxJ8yR8AqLAFsfZsRWySQQAkIhgT7gjlAFNJVeYUotb78dwOzrH3KQTA1Lz3U/s320/Pyro.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Moffatt as Hercule Poirot</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">3. ‘Hastings! Hastings! I have been blind!’ exclaims <b>Hercule
Poirot</b> to his friend on finally seeing how the details fall into place. The vain
Belgian who can solve everything with his ‘little grey cells’ is portrayed
memorably by John Moffatt on <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03js5pl/episodes/player" target="_blank">BBC Radio 4</a> or of course by David Suchet in the TV
series – the latter worth it for the costumes and lavish art deco clothes and
interiors alone.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">4. <b>Sherlock Holmes</b>. The prototype, with his solitary musings
and slow, often clumsy sidekick Dr Watson, the proxy for the thick audience
(us) as we need matters explained simply. My favourite story? '<a href="https://sherlock-holm.es/stories/pdf/a4/1-sided/soli.pdf" target="_blank">The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist</a>', for its plucky young woman who comes to Holmes because she wants to know why she is being stalked by a man on two wheels on her way to and
from a job in an out-of-the-way spot. On examining the shape of her fingers, Holmes almost
decides she is a typist, but then realises she is a musician because ‘there is
a spirituality about the face… which the typewriter does not generate’.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">5. <b>V I Warshawski</b>, in Sara Paretsky’s series. Radically
left-wing Vic’s jobs usually involve uncovering murky doings by big business
and defending the marginalised, such as victims of big pharma, or those who
need to use her friend Lottie Herschel’s abortion clinic. Kathleen Turner and
Sharon Gless portray her memorably on the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00f85ps/episodes/guide" target="_blank">BBC Radio 4 series</a>.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutb5C0_ChYBufh2L1t61RAt-FH9nBfbktA29c0zDE94JPizFKIuvHAO6B7pislv5V9OKNlOh-UyPcYbJSD-sn7y5GQnUXTg22ktipPNl6ko_KRfAunxEckjkmDRA77Gv9M8OjjwEJdFE4CIqH-iePE8ePMkuAPRPVKJ4C_-12a9tOXPFJyjcvKhzVTfg/s375/the%20big%20sleep%20small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="245" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutb5C0_ChYBufh2L1t61RAt-FH9nBfbktA29c0zDE94JPizFKIuvHAO6B7pislv5V9OKNlOh-UyPcYbJSD-sn7y5GQnUXTg22ktipPNl6ko_KRfAunxEckjkmDRA77Gv9M8OjjwEJdFE4CIqH-iePE8ePMkuAPRPVKJ4C_-12a9tOXPFJyjcvKhzVTfg/s320/the%20big%20sleep%20small.jpg" width="209" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Penguin edition of <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/stores/author/B000AQ4ZNW" target="_blank"><i>The Big Sleep</i></a></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">6. <b>Philip Marlowe</b>. Wild behaviour and wild plots at the
hard-bitten end of Los Angeles society where no one gives anything for free.
The hard-drinking sleuth turns up in his car to poke innumerable hornets’ nests
and see if the response will help him resolve matters for clients who are often
themselves hiding things from him. Great sardonic lines, e.g. ‘my face was
stiff with thought. Or something else my face was stiff with.’</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>What do they have in
common?</b> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some curious common themes emerge:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">- All but one (Mma Ramotswe) have relationships with local
police, seeking help when they need to, keeping them at arms’ length if they
can, sharing information when they must. Warshawski and Marlowe almost end up
in prison themselves on various occasions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"> -All except Marlowe and
Warshawski have dependable, though limited, assistants. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">-Transport is important – cars feature heavily in stories
about Marlowe and Warshawski. And let’s not forget Mma Ramotswe’s little white
van, always on the verge of giving up, and the trains and horse-drawn carriages
in the Conan Doyle stories. The detective must be able to travel easily and
quickly to far-flung places and crime scenes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">-The detectives are all, apart from Mma Ramotswe and Lord
Peter Wimsey perhaps, eccentric to various degrees. They could even be called
outsiders, though they want to do good in society (why else solve crimes?) and
are themselves regarded with various degrees of affection (though there’s not
usually much love lost between Marlowe and the local police). Perhaps being an observer
means being somewhat of an outsider. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">-All except Wimsey (whose wife is crime novelist Harriet
Vane – they have to solve a crime on their honeymoon) and Mme Ramotswe (married
to the kindly mechanic Mr J. L. B. Maketoni) are single.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>A critic speaks</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Literary critic <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_J._Ong" target="_blank">Walter Ong</a>, in his charting of the movement
from oral to literate societies, cited modern detective stories as the example <i>par excellence </i>of narrative in literate
culture. Narrative in purely oral societies had necessarily been full of
repetitions so the audience could keep on track, and was episodic rather than
tightly plotted. But in a detective story ‘ascending action builds relentlessly
to all but unbearable tension, the climactic recognition and reversal releases
the tension with explosive suddenness, and the dénouement disentangles everything
totally’. This thorough, intricate plotting is possible partly because the
reader can notice intricate clues, turn the pages forward and backwards, check details,
all of these impossible if one depends on listening to a story. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>The joy of audio</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yet I often enjoy <a href="https://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/search/label/Listening%20to%20literature" target="_blank">listening to</a>, rather than reading,
detective stories. I may not be able to keep abreast of all the clues, but
enjoy the feeling of being swept along in a story which will come right in the
end – the delight of observing a charismatic maestro or maestra who finds their
way through a thicket of puzzling and contradictory detail. Mon ami! Let me
tell you how it happened…<o:p></o:p></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span></p><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-29594080702848346022024-02-04T04:06:00.000-08:002024-02-15T02:21:25.827-08:00#65: Ghosts of Adderbury<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidi3_e7ZIpVufNCX8MEizzw-pPdFD4GqLH9H9Z1iS_ZhfEeuiiqdGICDREIquWvKXxFTvG65Oyj5THiftygtAnnKI7zrYuT4LhmVuAuga_m-ak-Xqy_lOz3Rrbq-zHpS3rRDWB3zIAq0bbjT1TFdmCGPB38AdZI1VN7njHbT77qtmPopszw8_TCxqBmY/s630/modern%20Adderbury%20small.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="630" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidi3_e7ZIpVufNCX8MEizzw-pPdFD4GqLH9H9Z1iS_ZhfEeuiiqdGICDREIquWvKXxFTvG65Oyj5THiftygtAnnKI7zrYuT4LhmVuAuga_m-ak-Xqy_lOz3Rrbq-zHpS3rRDWB3zIAq0bbjT1TFdmCGPB38AdZI1VN7njHbT77qtmPopszw8_TCxqBmY/w403-h180/modern%20Adderbury%20small.png" width="403" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cross Hill Road in Adderbury</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adderbury" target="_blank"></a>Adderbury is a village north of Oxford, south of Banbury,
which has enchanted me since I did the first of five catsits there in May last
year. ‘Essence of the Cotswolds,’ said a visiting friend and yes, it is a beautiful
village whose houses, some thatched, boast honey-coloured brickwork, famous in this area.
Yet walking around the village, through some of those buildings you can trace
the physical and even social outline of an older place.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>School, Mill, Hole, Kennels</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">There’s the sixteenth century manor house next to the church
with its ornate chimneys, which between 1780 and 1851 was ‘Dr Woolston’s
boarding school for boys’, or The Rookery, an impressive house dating from the
fifteenth century, which contains (says this <a href="https://www.cherwell.gov.uk/downloads/file/7870/adderbury-circular-walk" target="_blank">guide</a>) a priest hole. The Old Mill
(working until the 1930s) was moved by the Duke of Argyll in the mid-eighteenth
century because it spoilt the view of his grounds. The bluntly named Dog Close
used to house the kennels for the Duke of Buccleuch’s hunting dogs. The guide
mentions reminders of the other end of the social scale – the village green had
stocks and a whipping post, as well as a cross.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Music and meetings</b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.davidgorman.com/4quartets/2-coker.htm" target="_blank">Four Quartets</a></i>
TS Eliot speaks of hearing music in the long ago English countryside:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In that open field<br />
If you do not come too close, if you do not come too close,<br />
On a summer midnight, you can hear the music<br />
Of the weak pipe and the little drum<br />
And see them dancing around the bonfire<br />
The association of man and woman<br />
In daunsinge, signifying matrimonie—<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(East Coker, ll. 23-29)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So if you do not come too close, what music and rituals can
be heard and seen here? Perhaps that coming from the frieze under the
eaves of Saint Mary’s church, where strange creatures play the drums, pipes and
trumpet, and a mermaid seems to hold open her tail, split in two. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLYqAoejwT1pN7qpe_Bn3UqYK25PssCUHKQVFKQJxDXPMGxwEuKlTlRRPqoeqKKl0aOsU4OtL13CVb0umBezWf7t0VpALSlBZsDlQYncuW-yd0E020Rs6yoeeEWJbHefjCi3FfaF5iKL7ZVoEs8MS_rai_HI1S5Ae9lkb4j_4lSlOgjp2OJTel7fmx9I/s4032/figures%20on%20church.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLYqAoejwT1pN7qpe_Bn3UqYK25PssCUHKQVFKQJxDXPMGxwEuKlTlRRPqoeqKKl0aOsU4OtL13CVb0umBezWf7t0VpALSlBZsDlQYncuW-yd0E020Rs6yoeeEWJbHefjCi3FfaF5iKL7ZVoEs8MS_rai_HI1S5Ae9lkb4j_4lSlOgjp2OJTel7fmx9I/s320/figures%20on%20church.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotBsO5SLsXUe31oMTUY_Y9AlUQhd-Kxa2oLPuOo5WpTSLVyy5hpaJXwigWQoK-cZ1DPAwyoMRmeZElLFtzBcFFK0uhnaqhe5EYnxELF7ke9O15EIx2T7G2Vsg_UhPnsVlTIW1elNRN3WBYaSAiGZyHdOgNIAhB5yMcisNaItrWYRA2uIGPk095sQLDwo/s4032/more%20figures%20on%20church.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotBsO5SLsXUe31oMTUY_Y9AlUQhd-Kxa2oLPuOo5WpTSLVyy5hpaJXwigWQoK-cZ1DPAwyoMRmeZElLFtzBcFFK0uhnaqhe5EYnxELF7ke9O15EIx2T7G2Vsg_UhPnsVlTIW1elNRN3WBYaSAiGZyHdOgNIAhB5yMcisNaItrWYRA2uIGPk095sQLDwo/s320/more%20figures%20on%20church.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Music-making figures on St Mary's Church</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">Or you might
glimpse the lowered heads in a Quaker meeting – there is a Friends Meeting
House, built in 1675, and Quaker gravestones nearby. The village was a home for
many religious dissenters, with 27 family names recorded as Quakers. Bray
Doyley, Lord of Adderbury West, went to prison for his beliefs.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To these voices I would add modern ones I have encountered –
the groups who go out in all weathers on the very friendly <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1044942502973731" target="_blank">Adderbury Health Walks</a>, as well as dog walkers, library staff, attendees at a concert in the church.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0pbVSUzqWCZpkKCgNnEjVjSdOk0hED1lzFDeBLzgH0YhXHRz-xjJ_gT3JXvzj6rhlYKMI7ZLjMvuVBalh7qRDzevw0t3xC5QjY1a55WxAlKLnSh8z5uQ8BNdvpNL_FNLnKjopaU2EBex2EnU3hxrq1y4qPPYP9mIloKDhfVg4Uy_xnkwAgp6TfsY0hU/s969/Adderbury%20walkers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="969" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0pbVSUzqWCZpkKCgNnEjVjSdOk0hED1lzFDeBLzgH0YhXHRz-xjJ_gT3JXvzj6rhlYKMI7ZLjMvuVBalh7qRDzevw0t3xC5QjY1a55WxAlKLnSh8z5uQ8BNdvpNL_FNLnKjopaU2EBex2EnU3hxrq1y4qPPYP9mIloKDhfVg4Uy_xnkwAgp6TfsY0hU/s320/Adderbury%20walkers.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Adderbury Health Walk. Walk leader John Bellinger is fifth from left with blue walking poles. I am on the far right at the back with a pink scarf.</td></tr></tbody></table><b>Stories on the stones</b><p class="MsoNormal">And the golden stone? Apparently this is local ironstone, not Cotswold stone, which is lighter. I wish I could read it better. Looking
more closely, you can see how various the brickwork is, from clear-cut brownish material
to different shades of yellow, brown and orange, all supplemented with the
moss, lichen, ivy, periwinkle and other plants which seem irresistibly drawn to
it. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f0UNMCBCj10n24RIfGUK3OzTFG7A18cqRdeqFKHcQmXbPewHQT9JOv5PC9KxSasiXbIZyWNzuoBzjWWDcHPZZXZ57fv3LRefe5Peqhji_DkyMcXuUtLUGYeIaZuu3S2FtV6LZjd-XB_8-7362Ad_8YGGJ3NBdrQiGtnC1B4y09ux5onmkwxq2UBd-9E/s4032/Ivy%20on%20more%20modern%20wall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f0UNMCBCj10n24RIfGUK3OzTFG7A18cqRdeqFKHcQmXbPewHQT9JOv5PC9KxSasiXbIZyWNzuoBzjWWDcHPZZXZ57fv3LRefe5Peqhji_DkyMcXuUtLUGYeIaZuu3S2FtV6LZjd-XB_8-7362Ad_8YGGJ3NBdrQiGtnC1B4y09ux5onmkwxq2UBd-9E/s320/Ivy%20on%20more%20modern%20wall.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim51qEtEBiAzTOZ4Z33eVRe_77xHNkQzDGXyziYzacTEz9nBykBXwwTUH6_CJH21e1w4WURXtMGbD0xI_uwbiE9tEb3GN2ENL9hHtRoNh8TNwdv3LzFFUlF0meCsk3Hvaf1zirc9t8Mb2pOytCcO8j51XaAb48MOnEONjkfjxh_HchPnFTjSrOmqOKllc/s4032/wall%20and%20climbing%20plant.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim51qEtEBiAzTOZ4Z33eVRe_77xHNkQzDGXyziYzacTEz9nBykBXwwTUH6_CJH21e1w4WURXtMGbD0xI_uwbiE9tEb3GN2ENL9hHtRoNh8TNwdv3LzFFUlF0meCsk3Hvaf1zirc9t8Mb2pOytCcO8j51XaAb48MOnEONjkfjxh_HchPnFTjSrOmqOKllc/s320/wall%20and%20climbing%20plant.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zfFTDSWx9gbpOASj1w8EXNYqJ69hqh41UEN6HrwcQuBFA9hNj5SSCLzOSPsqCTFNSN0FVZZVW1d2OcTJ_OUIMjYuCkOudOYVK-KcHxQ3NcfdW6HqqaHUG84UYo_N_V9kpQqIwpwAl6lMA-2IV34QtgLauUjro11U8dUU_o2RXFY0K6rvluFJ-HljcA4/s4032/wall%20and%20periwinkle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zfFTDSWx9gbpOASj1w8EXNYqJ69hqh41UEN6HrwcQuBFA9hNj5SSCLzOSPsqCTFNSN0FVZZVW1d2OcTJ_OUIMjYuCkOudOYVK-KcHxQ3NcfdW6HqqaHUG84UYo_N_V9kpQqIwpwAl6lMA-2IV34QtgLauUjro11U8dUU_o2RXFY0K6rvluFJ-HljcA4/s320/wall%20and%20periwinkle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">It also has signs of older structures and patterns, such as
these:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5zuXJg3K-7ruqvmUz5MsoNEu7GAFTesa_KkgX5svVTed-gZBsjbhZTTf7rwPjxEcL5JHpTuS2fEyrCcYfXWD80zt2khj30tfP6VgcAiknuvMttEJHjAW1QhT1UaNpXWOd_ENz30FpmTITeJLdJ9fxJ7N3YSEenTHfadXixmzhLHZBedxNeOPjq18310/s4032/remains%20of%20arches%20in%20wall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5zuXJg3K-7ruqvmUz5MsoNEu7GAFTesa_KkgX5svVTed-gZBsjbhZTTf7rwPjxEcL5JHpTuS2fEyrCcYfXWD80zt2khj30tfP6VgcAiknuvMttEJHjAW1QhT1UaNpXWOd_ENz30FpmTITeJLdJ9fxJ7N3YSEenTHfadXixmzhLHZBedxNeOPjq18310/s320/remains%20of%20arches%20in%20wall.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6V9y8kpClpcQ3OodgW3yCJftbbfwKI8fjsnaLVXUsNs1WqklP1TNXAjMBFiuCFATPFLUFJVi83jj7KpegraXfXG3v5CXvrcCBsTSn8_2BTppwuKKKAktvnoYLduaqg9lWfyEgVlURZsDO0dUfzqMRZiIjNYeYPk0U-n7Sm2BbCHv2WAjm1pln_zbAlaY/s4032/further%20patterns%20in%20the%20wall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6V9y8kpClpcQ3OodgW3yCJftbbfwKI8fjsnaLVXUsNs1WqklP1TNXAjMBFiuCFATPFLUFJVi83jj7KpegraXfXG3v5CXvrcCBsTSn8_2BTppwuKKKAktvnoYLduaqg9lWfyEgVlURZsDO0dUfzqMRZiIjNYeYPk0U-n7Sm2BbCHv2WAjm1pln_zbAlaY/s320/further%20patterns%20in%20the%20wall.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Other lines from Eliot’s <i>Four Quartets</i> seem appropriate
here:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In succession<br />
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,<br />
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place<br />
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.<br />
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,<br />
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth<br />
Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,<br />
Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(East Coker, ll. 1-8) <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5XG3ZSV11JwsXSdEUFnYqItRdoKVWxIdwZRS51qSqYoMiSPUaJAoXt7dyRrMh54QgzEAjr6udBCO85nzLkxJd7pFtqFio_tIgdGwz7Wafv4_8-gXQsRlCiL7hJnWceS36RGxptWzL1zFwesrJ78yA8ucPcOk0AnxMoiFfkdrh_6zsOYIYa_bBKLa2bQ/s4032/weathering%20in%20wall.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5XG3ZSV11JwsXSdEUFnYqItRdoKVWxIdwZRS51qSqYoMiSPUaJAoXt7dyRrMh54QgzEAjr6udBCO85nzLkxJd7pFtqFio_tIgdGwz7Wafv4_8-gXQsRlCiL7hJnWceS36RGxptWzL1zFwesrJ78yA8ucPcOk0AnxMoiFfkdrh_6zsOYIYa_bBKLa2bQ/s320/weathering%20in%20wall.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">More information about the village is <a href="https://adderbury.org/our-village/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /></p><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-70219276211547673622024-01-06T10:22:00.000-08:002024-01-07T03:24:12.231-08:00#64: The Dancing Master<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOSO1Ys4IHqhGCfr3Q1I7C1ZFjWy1eyKAm0dogRgnshZ771idJdWn-oo7ML9k2TJOmSUbIYBzXv8KP9fCX3P2oojJ4-vACyX4Y0dXaFhrfMDZo_yH1I8Jq0wHr2bpbx2SE6Qw_zQkaD9F-WIVjOwWgt99kqPFLqmDPMO-xico65sZibm8QwbFFQnltH0/s4032/lifting%20the%20hat%20again.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOSO1Ys4IHqhGCfr3Q1I7C1ZFjWy1eyKAm0dogRgnshZ771idJdWn-oo7ML9k2TJOmSUbIYBzXv8KP9fCX3P2oojJ4-vACyX4Y0dXaFhrfMDZo_yH1I8Jq0wHr2bpbx2SE6Qw_zQkaD9F-WIVjOwWgt99kqPFLqmDPMO-xico65sZibm8QwbFFQnltH0/s320/lifting%20the%20hat%20again.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Instructions for taking off one</span><span style="text-align: left;">'s</span><span style="text-align: left;"> hat</span></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Time to dance</b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">‘I long for a dance. Mary — play Grimstock!’ demands Lydia
Bennet of her bookish sister at the piano during a tea party in the BBC’s 1995
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUwjt70Pdvo" target="_blank">Pride and Prejudice</a>. And so three couples get up, including Lizzie Bennet and her
favourite, Wickham, who throws a flirtatious glance at a certain Miss
Gray on the way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">‘Grimstock’ is one of the dances in John Playford’s book<i> The Dancing Master</i>, the centrepiece of
a tiny <a href="https://visit.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/event/the-dancing-master" target="_blank">exhibition</a> in the foyer of Oxford University’s Weston Library. The book was
published from 1651 right through to the nineteenth century and the exhibition has
no less than eight editions on display. It is small, neat and rectangular,
probably ideal for the master to tuck next to his pocket fiddle (also
displayed) to use with the young masters and mistresses eager to learn the
latest steps.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObUpgtwUj-Wi6e28s1YQvX902O6Qf0ZYQpZ_Ppp75ox1I4QM4u5Cr1QH0M55SqNu5b-9O3kByVtDsN8UmorovCIzzKZWbTQiR3QBtxemI7NNSzVt4CYlS-H8T9pOwZISUUKXP-JA0Gg29KxLyAQfySIJDwcl4YOZ966EurdMZuCEKmzpEufCPDRYpGTM/s1007/book%20with%20QR%20codes%20small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="435" data-original-width="1007" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObUpgtwUj-Wi6e28s1YQvX902O6Qf0ZYQpZ_Ppp75ox1I4QM4u5Cr1QH0M55SqNu5b-9O3kByVtDsN8UmorovCIzzKZWbTQiR3QBtxemI7NNSzVt4CYlS-H8T9pOwZISUUKXP-JA0Gg29KxLyAQfySIJDwcl4YOZ966EurdMZuCEKmzpEufCPDRYpGTM/s320/book%20with%20QR%20codes%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYQamWmoc1KKn0A-CChbIlwwD17vN6uHhn7vM4AU0qzgFcMId358GsxslyFNyBkNs4a8nxtDrpMgjtQ3ihMad9zgeQFwt6gDrbAqpWLn2jot4M-zZ6yPfjxNO-eh6w2jZTZbEVEd1TQ610p6wDZom5kG9hD2j5tmLV5HseEv3XruJ9eKblnf9Czggrx8/s442/pocket%20fiddle%20small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="442" data-original-width="344" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYQamWmoc1KKn0A-CChbIlwwD17vN6uHhn7vM4AU0qzgFcMId358GsxslyFNyBkNs4a8nxtDrpMgjtQ3ihMad9zgeQFwt6gDrbAqpWLn2jot4M-zZ6yPfjxNO-eh6w2jZTZbEVEd1TQ610p6wDZom5kG9hD2j5tmLV5HseEv3XruJ9eKblnf9Czggrx8/s320/pocket%20fiddle%20small.jpg" width="249" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Leaping and… farting</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Other dancing books
displayed include John Weaver’s <i>Anatomical
and Mechanical Lectures upon Dancing</i>,
which gives a guide to ‘leaping or springing’. This is different from walking,
he tells us, because ‘in leaping the whole body is thrown into the air, both
feet being at the same time elevated from the ground or floor’ and ‘cannot be
performed, except the joints of the limbs are first bent’.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Song lyrics were
often ‘amusing, irreverent and coarse’. So one dancing book tells the story of
how a lady and her maid ‘made a match at farting’ and the lady manages to both
light candles and put them out with her farts. ‘In comes my lady with all her
might and main, and blew them out, and in, and out, and in, and out again.’ One
can only imagine what Mary Bennet would have made of that.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DlK1-eX8Uhz03WJ7naKFq1AZf1vol5S1pPqWKnfhSVRckyS72ie6xy0u-FHQPJHFQ0BbwyYCo7V7D1TtJ1Bqg9XV6GPPu39QdFO8nUXl25WhR3gTzAJaY5bZ6vrC3wcb-_LKbOtVv6gE6PaoYaSQhIb3YfZTzWwNMCKX6ltFygfdxaQsVnRZz0oqbOk/s670/farting%20small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="670" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DlK1-eX8Uhz03WJ7naKFq1AZf1vol5S1pPqWKnfhSVRckyS72ie6xy0u-FHQPJHFQ0BbwyYCo7V7D1TtJ1Bqg9XV6GPPu39QdFO8nUXl25WhR3gTzAJaY5bZ6vrC3wcb-_LKbOtVv6gE6PaoYaSQhIb3YfZTzWwNMCKX6ltFygfdxaQsVnRZz0oqbOk/s320/farting%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Dancing symbols</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">A freestanding audio-visual display with
choreographic symbols from Mr Isaac’s ‘the Union’ invites the visitor to try
dance themselves, though the symbols, which look like graceful, willowy music
notes, are not easily understood. This visitor had a go:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dydscBnPJ6hiC0Yn1i8jeQ1JtRo2kttKwfAVjF6ZVGn8ozD9nYaFXb2sA6tlBoOVcJxRuDPmdFn2HVnOVjLpA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Lovely labels </b></p><p class="MsoNormal">What of the labels and audiovisuals? The top-notch labels will delight any interpretation nerd (such as me):<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">1. Connections with what the audience knows – Jane Austen:<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgjnQtIBJw7pm1Z1q4hbxdYo9c2pnX6fn62PkIPeuKOD5FF4fPwwRxUj4k5ol-XYOp01XSi9hU6k2uS0hpDkBD0H4qL5ubM9vUL9g84mLwYili6xfaYrdCQ2Mwl-i9wU8uGwVI6UktVB67MwGwXtpHzvTaD83T4gIQL2TaWxbkeJ_H3PnB9Y5aJegGag/s637/Jane%20Austen%20small.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="637" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgjnQtIBJw7pm1Z1q4hbxdYo9c2pnX6fn62PkIPeuKOD5FF4fPwwRxUj4k5ol-XYOp01XSi9hU6k2uS0hpDkBD0H4qL5ubM9vUL9g84mLwYili6xfaYrdCQ2Mwl-i9wU8uGwVI6UktVB67MwGwXtpHzvTaD83T4gIQL2TaWxbkeJ_H3PnB9Y5aJegGag/s320/Jane%20Austen%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">2. Especially delightful! Present tenses on a label:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Z_HTRuXLhMcGBfRk8ResrXSFNRLFnjq8tyWKyVnHSW_3F4hss-ZG1ZNkFRn2K0NXcedByyZcBXDtZbAYnU-2qPDinsoEnkeZmRCVrJK3G-Q72MF2hhoGAIpHVZmDVfBGZZS_IcoJg8wKIVbpM_k0VNuoGcFBiLF6BtlLhS-FNeD3zlW7CU94XVwY5nY/s716/present%20tense%20small.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="283" data-original-width="716" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Z_HTRuXLhMcGBfRk8ResrXSFNRLFnjq8tyWKyVnHSW_3F4hss-ZG1ZNkFRn2K0NXcedByyZcBXDtZbAYnU-2qPDinsoEnkeZmRCVrJK3G-Q72MF2hhoGAIpHVZmDVfBGZZS_IcoJg8wKIVbpM_k0VNuoGcFBiLF6BtlLhS-FNeD3zlW7CU94XVwY5nY/s320/present%20tense%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">3. Humour, and research presented with a light touch:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsHybxFmaiJIWquDoiF2_sUt7WfnXof_F6KpmwkvH_zpA6dM_FsxoVBsRM0tPrt6aDGoqOPisyepybhUuqtplUM4PE0PWyJwPbKVSHmju0uMiGGhDi9hPNA3GzL4OW_JpKwQID7_RbZP-vmmQm1DaSrrcAnUOk6687s7HJUeGVjk2tzgyTjajwJM8ZII/s590/strictly%20curse%20small.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="590" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsHybxFmaiJIWquDoiF2_sUt7WfnXof_F6KpmwkvH_zpA6dM_FsxoVBsRM0tPrt6aDGoqOPisyepybhUuqtplUM4PE0PWyJwPbKVSHmju0uMiGGhDi9hPNA3GzL4OW_JpKwQID7_RbZP-vmmQm1DaSrrcAnUOk6687s7HJUeGVjk2tzgyTjajwJM8ZII/s320/strictly%20curse%20small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Tiresome tech </b></p><p class="MsoNormal">But the technology was mainly a letdown. Each book has a QR code next to it, promising to let
us hear the songs. However, activating one on my phone led to a frustrating and
unsuccessful 10 minutes trying to register with the SoundCloud app, which I
suspect not many visitors would have the patience to navigate. The display
could have used a few more sets of screens and headphones and a bit more video
to add colour and movement. Why not just link to the YouTube videos instead of
an app which needs registration? Failing that, try <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hNsK_-3Yik" target="_blank">Grimstock </a>or<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WyW91zcGFE" target="_blank"></a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WyW91zcGFE" target="_blank">the Black Nag </a>at home.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9hNsK_-3Yik" width="320" youtube-src-id="9hNsK_-3Yik"></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://visit.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/event/the-dancing-master" target="_blank">The Dancing Master</a>
is at the Weston Library until mid-January 2024.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p>
<br /></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-57072844469699523152023-11-20T02:40:00.000-08:002023-11-23T00:08:14.348-08:00#63: The Order of Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeDKkdpYB7PbmrIs3oxzU7t5CTsYDHdhet7m1kLkaIBvHEgQthEhCO2Ij8zF6GG0l4m7XEFbliMqTbU2YFyAVtpHQz6TQm-gJrPk8ONF_a6pWJ9CG6pDQ91T7eb-yYifTAKpQWZB8cy2rJ43aEGxFxIB20kFvCy1t2jB866viBgPxajIRtXNTzuFgFJI/s4032/book%20cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeDKkdpYB7PbmrIs3oxzU7t5CTsYDHdhet7m1kLkaIBvHEgQthEhCO2Ij8zF6GG0l4m7XEFbliMqTbU2YFyAVtpHQz6TQm-gJrPk8ONF_a6pWJ9CG6pDQ91T7eb-yYifTAKpQWZB8cy2rJ43aEGxFxIB20kFvCy1t2jB866viBgPxajIRtXNTzuFgFJI/s320/book%20cover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">There’s nothing like theoretical physics for making you feel
that words are floating, untethered to any normal experience. Or to put it another way, that a
self-supporting explanation for phenomena is being built without reference to
anything verifiable on an everyday level.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is at times how I felt on a first head-spinning reading
of Rovelli’s <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Order-Time-Carlo-Rovelli/dp/0735216118" target="_blank">The Order of Time</a>, in which he tries to explain to ‘my dear,
cultivated reader’, as he puts it, what time is in terms of physics. Why does
time move from the past to the future? Does the present exist? Is time an
objective ‘container’ for events which exists independently of them, or is it
measurement of change, so that if nothing happens, time stops?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well, here is my stab at a summary of the book’s answers to
these questions:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Why does time move from the past to the future?</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is a tough question. Rovelli explains physicist Ludwig
Boltzmann’s idea that the direction of time is due to our ‘blurred’ vision of
microscopic events. If humans could ‘take into account all the details of the
exact, microscopic state of the world’, the difference between past and future
vanishes. What gives rise to our understanding of time passing is that the world
is moving from a state of low to high entropy, meaning that disorder is
increasing. One example of this is the sun, a source of low entropy when it emits photons, after which entropy increases when the earth emits 10 cold photons is
in exchange for every one from the sun. This increasing disorder causes events
to happen, and means traces of the past are found in the present. No? Me
neither, well… maybe a little. This footnote from the book helps:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>The point is not that what happens to a cold teaspoon in a
cup of hot tea depends on whether I have a blurred vision of it or not.… It
just happens, regardless. The point is that the description in terms of heat,
temperature and the passage of heat from tea to spoon is a blurred vision of
what happens, and that it is only in this blurred vision that a startling difference between past and future appears.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Entropy itself is a result of our blurred vision, as is the
‘particularity’ of our universe which means that it is, extremely unusually,
moving from a state of low to high entropy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Does the present exist?</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Rovelli thinks an ‘objective global present’ does not exist,
since the most we can speak of, post-Einstein, is ‘a present relative to a
moving observer’; time has been shown to be relative to qualities such as speed
and proximity to an object. However, he acknowledges voices arguing for ‘a
privileged time and a real present’.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEhcln9qov1r3_LSLhCKCBCHh4Ha3JzWPLiQwJ7SVDyT3dYcK3-Qtvn-v4jDP3v4i3mGQOzh2xdQPg-_fWnCdr1aDVeR3WX_oV5E5goPlEX7xAs0fkApvfJOzDiOKmkCD0pugonQaqjIbt9PKW6jeevVhDunHTzeZUUwndWgy6Xts8xffrk8uh837Yp0/s4032/Aristotle%20and%20Newton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEhcln9qov1r3_LSLhCKCBCHh4Ha3JzWPLiQwJ7SVDyT3dYcK3-Qtvn-v4jDP3v4i3mGQOzh2xdQPg-_fWnCdr1aDVeR3WX_oV5E5goPlEX7xAs0fkApvfJOzDiOKmkCD0pugonQaqjIbt9PKW6jeevVhDunHTzeZUUwndWgy6Xts8xffrk8uh837Yp0/s320/Aristotle%20and%20Newton.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Aristotle</span><span style="text-align: left;"> and Newton,</span><span style="text-align: left;"> p.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> 59</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Is time an objective ‘container’ for events which exists
without them, or is it measurement of change, so that if nothing happens, time
stops?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Rovelli explains how the first view was that of Newton, the
second of Aristotle. He brings in Einstein to create a synthesis of them:
space-time is one field among many. (‘Fields’ are substances which ‘constitute
the weave of the physical reality of the world’). Space-time is a field which
exists independently of matter, but ‘stretches and jostles’ with other fields.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXofrGMllPqttL5kfSq8CfPQrr3-_q1XNAUHNP0bKzb8fm48GK5oeyORuVz2FcQUiUVNV4XDwwTJvGkjAlSkNIBjIsgNIK1G9r-571u8I4sDROBlTK_OOgNoAf_SMQ8PvRPKubxXnu5DtHXe1Yhr7yzN_IK3kvpwvvluLaeohWCfiKTCwEIOljpy2nipQ/s4032/the%20gravitational%20field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXofrGMllPqttL5kfSq8CfPQrr3-_q1XNAUHNP0bKzb8fm48GK5oeyORuVz2FcQUiUVNV4XDwwTJvGkjAlSkNIBjIsgNIK1G9r-571u8I4sDROBlTK_OOgNoAf_SMQ8PvRPKubxXnu5DtHXe1Yhr7yzN_IK3kvpwvvluLaeohWCfiKTCwEIOljpy2nipQ/s320/the%20gravitational%20field.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">The</span><span style="text-align: left;"> 'curved' space-time field, p. 69</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Connecting physics with other worldviews</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bravely, the book moves outside physics, into biology,
philosophy and religion. Rovelli believes physics allows us to study time free
of ‘the fog of emotion’, but he also celebrates our emotional need for time,
its necessity for making us who we are through memory. Perception of time is
also crucial for survival, since we have evolved neural structures that allow
us to predict the future based on our understanding of the past. <o:p></o:p>He also speculates that it is anxiety about time that caused Plato to imagine timeless, abstract ideas and philosophical constructs. A meditation on death comes at the end of the book. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These departures from physics into
different areas seem somewhat disconnected from the physics-based approach of
the rest of the book, and less well-developed. For example, Rovelli thinks our
sense of our identity comes from interaction with others, not introspection.
But have not psychologists been studying this for decades? Perhaps these
attempted connections with more human concerns exist to add interest to what
could otherwise be a very dry book, or to clarify that physics coexists and is
separate from other levels of understanding — psychological, biological,
philosophical. How physics may, or may not, connect with these areas is
something that, for me, awaits another book.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/301539/the-order-of-time-by-rovelli-carlo/9780141988269" target="_blank">The Order of Time</a> is published by Penguin.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-64787125373610538232023-10-26T07:30:00.002-07:002023-11-20T02:14:09.496-08:00#62: Otherlands: A World in the Making<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv25iJgrxt-lMtrpzfYCom_M8nfconfIsfjyHmbtwjZpIy9pLD5EoNSv1QG6JKtE-5BbhFiQZWyfUgYJS76KiS00zHw0QL-3FB8KOKp30z-_8yuyzG3AFh1wwtAvNBcUhpH6fbaUSqezi6Y-pOejtIjQI69-TgS77-POGcoreWaT19XrcJJBpzCdK17yA/s1280/otherlands%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="830" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv25iJgrxt-lMtrpzfYCom_M8nfconfIsfjyHmbtwjZpIy9pLD5EoNSv1QG6JKtE-5BbhFiQZWyfUgYJS76KiS00zHw0QL-3FB8KOKp30z-_8yuyzG3AFh1wwtAvNBcUhpH6fbaUSqezi6Y-pOejtIjQI69-TgS77-POGcoreWaT19XrcJJBpzCdK17yA/s320/otherlands%20cover.jpg" width="208" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thomas Halliday’s book is a biography of the Earth, told backwards. He
starts 20,000 years ago, at the beginning of the decisive thawing of the
mammoth steppe, or grassland, in Beringia, now northern Alaska and the Arctic. The
steppe rings the Pleistocene world and is home to creatures such as horses,
bison and the now-extinct cave lion.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">As the world warms over thousands of years, seas rise and
the land fragments into islands, so these animals can no longer migrate widely.
The decisive breaking up of the area will occur about 11,000 years before the
present. Native species such as mammoth ‘will not survive for long, battered by
the warming world and… versatile new predators.’ Who are these new predators
able to move north because of the rising temperatures? Humans, of course. In
our day only the caribou, brown bear and muskox survive of the species the
steppe once hosted (the muskox as a reintroduction).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Time and space travel </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The book then travels the Earth, moving backwards in time to
land at different times and places. So there are abundant giant penguins 41
million years ago, some taller than modern humans; a gorgon 253 million years
ago with a painful mouth tumour and a leg which has never been the same since
she fractured it hunting <i>Bunostegos</i>
(a creature looking like a stumpy, tall crocodile); and rock-eating bacteria in
the Devonian, 407 million years ago, which make the surface of the water in
which they live, intolerably hot to every other lifeform, shimmer with bubbles. The book ends in the pre-Cambrian 550
million years ago, with no life on land, a 22-hour day before friction slows
the Earth’s rotation, and a closer moon shining 15% brighter. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The climate and
geological processes are given as much space as plants and animals. Heading
each chapter are helpful maps showing how landmasses and seas have changed, as
well as illustrations of animals now unfamiliar to us. Halliday is at pains to
explain scientific terms, for example on the difference between a ‘fundamental
niche’ (the possible survivable conditions for a species) and its ‘realised
niche’ (the way its niche is actually limited by interactions with other
organisms).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>In thrall to human language </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the pre-Cambrian world are the earliest creatures we can
call animals. One of these is ‘a centimetre-scale flying saucer’ with eight
arms, ‘spiralling clockwise from the tip of the cone to its base… floating
hypnotically’. This is <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eoandromeda" target="_blank">Eoandromeda</a></i>,
‘so called because when flattened in fossilisation, its eight arms resemble the
spiral galaxy Andromeda’. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Eoandromeda</i>’s name<i> </i>shows how in thrall we are to our
language and ways of seeing, and also to the limited range of evidence we have.
So we discover this creature flattened as a fossil and name it after a galaxy
at the limits of our world (which we have also previously named), a charming
link between the earthly and extinct with the unearthly and infinite. So this
creature has achieved a kind of immortality, in human terms.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Drama… with no
humans? How?</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How does Halliday
add drama and interest to processes that happen over huge timescales, mostly
with no humans involved?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Firstly, he picks
varied moments — differently configured landmasses and oceans, with different
climates and ecosystems, for example before or after mass extinctions. Secondly
he focuses on movement. Movement of wind, waves and water and therefore of
land; communities of animals migrating; individual creatures on the move.
Thirdly, he mixes together disparate information — so as well as watching a
short-faced bear rummaging in a mammoth carcass, we learn about Korean, Russian
and European bear mythologies.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lastly, he embraces
human-centred ways of description. Literary quotations head each chapter (the
last has Hardy’s ‘Drummer Hodge’, commemorating the death of a young soldier in
the Boer War — ‘Yet portion of that unknown plain/Will Hodge forever be’). He
chooses anthropomorphic language such as ‘cyanobacteria discovered the magic of
photosynthesis’, which would not get past an academic editor. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He is also happy to
translate from the academic to the literary; so the academic term ‘index
fossils’ (fossils which are so abundant they can be used to date the rocks they
are in) becomes ‘fossil timepieces’ later in the same paragraph. The book ends
with a plea to work together to stop climate change. It tells us the world will
never stop being in the making, or making. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/314443/otherlands-by-halliday-thomas/9780141991146" target="_blank">Otherlands: A World in the Making</a> is published by Penguin.<o:p></o:p></p></div><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-26271951890988638952023-09-27T03:08:00.003-07:002023-10-12T00:15:30.296-07:00#61: Academic supervision<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1j8hk4N0wBVT3FiNgYsUfIYIuIvpOlszBdohCLPuZ5RoRDYUIF5KOzQyEt0m5jHB2zQ0C8zekx_USKPg9719ixqMng1avDpr7jQ-URQME2rKWVqb_SkjMDzxj7GVCqDrNR2VHgv4FU7nyiotSd5d4e6hH7PD5RYsJI5Utk43GYDHsAxxs_S97FG3CuWY/s4032/Sidney%20and%20Wordsworth.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1j8hk4N0wBVT3FiNgYsUfIYIuIvpOlszBdohCLPuZ5RoRDYUIF5KOzQyEt0m5jHB2zQ0C8zekx_USKPg9719ixqMng1avDpr7jQ-URQME2rKWVqb_SkjMDzxj7GVCqDrNR2VHgv4FU7nyiotSd5d4e6hH7PD5RYsJI5Utk43GYDHsAxxs_S97FG3CuWY/s320/Sidney%20and%20Wordsworth.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><a name="OLE_LINK1">An academic supervisor is probably the person who reads your writing more closely than anyone else, more closely than an editor, than friends and acquaintances, or even eventual readers of the finished product.</a><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="OLE_LINK1"><b>What does a supervisor do?</b><br /></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Good supervision is
demanding. ‘Typically, the supervisor acts as a guide, mentor, source of
information and facilitator to the student,’ says University College London’s
<a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/teaching-learning/publications/2019/aug/research-and-project-supervision-all-levels-introduction" target="_blank">advice to doctoral supervisors</a>. Their list of things supervisors can help with
is long and includes formulating the research question, evaluating the research
results, making sure the work is good enough and presenting work. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The guidance
acknowledges that there are different ways of supervising: ‘Supervisory styles
are often conceptualized on a spectrum from laissez-faire to more contractual
or from managerial to supportive,’ it says. Hmmm… I would be a bit suspicious
of that ‘laissez-faire’ — in my view good supervision is essential to the
success or failure of a Masters or PhD, and a supervisor needs to take an
active part in its conception and development.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">PhD student <a href="http://www.missendencentre.co.uk/phd/dirk%20fr+ans%20reflects.pdf" target="_blank">Dirk Frans</a>,
looking back on successful completion, comments: ‘there must be a “click”
between student and supervisor. I spent 10 years looking for a supervisor who
would suit me. Not only did we “click” but he is a world expert, committed to
the poor and still doing grassroots work. Only then did I apply for a place.’ Not
everyone will spend 10 years looking for a supervisor, but I agree that “click”
is important.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>My experience of supervision </b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;">I’ve just submitted a 35,000-word
dissertation for my Masters by Research (MRes) in English Literature at
Liverpool University. Rather than being taught through set modules, a Masters
by Research consists mainly of a long dissertation, the research topic decided
by the student. It is a little like one third of a PhD, although it is given a
grade at the end rather than passed, failed or changes required (as happens
with a PhD). <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIu0WWIP-t2X70YLIRFE8WMe9drIZERVWr9isLoCLBS4G8TlrTMNezZajlvBBVVaiYllyarqX2O3lSB-PobT4vCWgmsovUkt4vr4ox4ddlY73zYH3NMJG56d-C5vKWm9HqPPy7gvTp2IrV5JlGDvO-YZ8TdbVIKXLtOeo1GGeN1RsaCVzNZ7nl9DTyE3M/s4032/Ong%20books.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIu0WWIP-t2X70YLIRFE8WMe9drIZERVWr9isLoCLBS4G8TlrTMNezZajlvBBVVaiYllyarqX2O3lSB-PobT4vCWgmsovUkt4vr4ox4ddlY73zYH3NMJG56d-C5vKWm9HqPPy7gvTp2IrV5JlGDvO-YZ8TdbVIKXLtOeo1GGeN1RsaCVzNZ7nl9DTyE3M/s320/Ong%20books.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The supervision I had was
excellent and I wanted to share three of the reasons here.
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><b>1. The supervisor read
and engaged with my work seriously and in detail. </b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;">The high quality of the
feedback comments, which were both encouraging and demanding, meant that I
returned to them at later stages of research as well, beyond the particular
piece of writing they referred to. These comments referred to different areas:
content, organisation, expression, method, further reading, general progress
and formatting. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;">For example, feedback on content was: ‘I think it would be good
to register the instantaneousness of the transformation which is underlined by
seeing it, rather than hearing it.’ (Talking about transformation of the
meaning of a word by repeating it within a line of a sonnet). A comment on
expression was: ‘this opening was very difficult to make sense of and might
require amendment’. A comment on method was: ‘this is good and interesting but
do due diligence on analysis of the final lines first, before moving to this
conceptual level’. (Meaning I had not devoted enough time to analysing the poem
— I found the idea of ‘due diligence’ helpful as I continued).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><b>2. The supervisor drew
out and helped me refine and develop my own best ideas</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;">She helped me develop my own strengths rather than expecting,
either implicitly or explicitly, a particular understanding or even a set of
ideas which I needed to reach, which would be more difficult and discouraging. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The above two points
chime in with a reflection by<a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/teaching-learning/sites/teaching_learning/files/dan-long.pdf" target="_blank"> Dan Long</a>, who studied for his PhD while a secondary
school teacher. According to his 'PhD diary', his supervisor Linda’s ‘enthusiasm as a reader’ was
crucial. He said: </p><p class="MsoNormal">‘As a teacher I was always sensitive to the knack of encouraging
people through the right balance of praise and criticism. Linda has this knack
but the most important thing about her approach to supervision is the way in
which she will allow you to develop your own ideas without butting in or
annexing them to her own take on a subject. With the comments on my writing she
has pointed me in the right direction on certain writers or approaches without
being prescriptive or didactic. Thus I find myself going back to her comments
for pointers and find that I’ve taken the path suggested without really having
realised it. This process is difficult to articulate and much of it hinges on
the supervisor being a good or pleasant personality – it’s a mixture of being
positive, supportive, questioning, sceptical, appreciative, empathic,
judicious, kind etc.. Often I can see that some of my ideas might be a bit
inane and Linda has the knack of hoeing these ideas over in a supervision and
putting oxygen and nutriment in them. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>3. The supervisor
recommended not only sources to read, but how to approach my reading.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b> </b>For example, she gave me guidance about how
much attention it might be necessary, or not necessary, to pay to different
things. She also helped me work in different ways sometimes — for example,
there was a stage when I definitely needed to take a step back, let things
disentangle and see which ideas ‘floated to the top’.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;">The supervision process
meant that I’ve been able to explore the questions I had when I started the
project (although it’s changed quite a bit since then). So to a large extent
I’ve been able to build on the preparation I did before the course started,
rather than having to put it to one side. It also means I’ve been able to
progress with ideas I’m genuinely interested in. I won’t be asking for my money
back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A very useful bank of
PhD students’ reflections on the supervision process can be found <a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/teaching-learning/professional-development/arena-open/research-supervision/phd-diaries" target="_blank">here</a> (scroll
down to ‘students being supervised’), with a more extensive bank <a href="http://www.missendencentre.co.uk/phdiaries.html" target="_blank">here</a>. These
focus on the student-supervisor relationship, institutional attitudes and
processes, and the many problems that can occur.</b><o:p></o:p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-11724317863193773052023-08-08T13:07:00.007-07:002023-10-12T00:41:57.481-07:00#60: Pet sitting<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYWRTffjZlPauFQ1yztEVzSu8-PukvjAWq2hX_jdXy9rtdnKvblPyzOQynxknMRzTFo_EOCp9fgTH1fcdxB-VV2uBGsEbNGSDrIWQxnILGkBJH4NUp6FwxwZYx9ZV8458vgguzXHIGka6Z_7dW_6Rve5ENRCp8jT_EKkzbzXFMNTF3GTqjs18SHGfyZM/s3840/Mercer.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYWRTffjZlPauFQ1yztEVzSu8-PukvjAWq2hX_jdXy9rtdnKvblPyzOQynxknMRzTFo_EOCp9fgTH1fcdxB-VV2uBGsEbNGSDrIWQxnILGkBJH4NUp6FwxwZYx9ZV8458vgguzXHIGka6Z_7dW_6Rve5ENRCp8jT_EKkzbzXFMNTF3GTqjs18SHGfyZM/s320/Mercer.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Mercer in Hythe</span><span style="text-align: left;">, South Kent</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Over the past five years I’ve been welcomed into the houses of
people I’ve never met and trusted with some of the things dearest to them —
their pets. I’ve also welcomed strangers to my flat to look after my cat mate
Indi.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is pet sitting — to find sits and sitters I use the
website <a href="https://www.trustedhousesitters.com/" target="_blank">Trusted Housesitters</a>, but others are <a href="https://mindahome.co.uk/" target="_blank">Mindahome UK</a> and <a href="https://www.mindmyhouse.com/" target="_blank">MindMyHouse</a> (there’s also <a href="https://housesitsearch.com/" target="_blank">HousesSitSearch</a>, which aggregates different sites). Some sitters travel solo or in
couples, some with families or even with their own pets. No money changes
hands, but the sitter gets accommodation and the owner a pet-loving live-in
carer, so there are no kennel or cattery fees and the pet stays in their home
environment. Truly a win-win, I think. <o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbs62ZLXATo6qLPZRVMnof_ttmndmy_HSGak-oX3-3vxcrg7XsQ4NPI13A55Q7t8O1yJtITIO_R0SKfwbml-82-8X-RqgeYbia5_RlPjLV7GEyc7Fx4q8O2vQmrXxM0HdgfRtG8mAtfn8O1KKGrPPy524Jjj_DDddVeEIvGXBdjoEXNEM3MU1sVNXC2g/s3840/Tiny%20man.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbs62ZLXATo6qLPZRVMnof_ttmndmy_HSGak-oX3-3vxcrg7XsQ4NPI13A55Q7t8O1yJtITIO_R0SKfwbml-82-8X-RqgeYbia5_RlPjLV7GEyc7Fx4q8O2vQmrXxM0HdgfRtG8mAtfn8O1KKGrPPy524Jjj_DDddVeEIvGXBdjoEXNEM3MU1sVNXC2g/s320/Tiny%20man.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Tiny Man in Andalucia — 'why, what else are plant pots for?'</span></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Why petsit?</b><p class="MsoNormal">For me, one of the benefits of sitting is an opportunity to
discover places I never would normally. I’m currently in <a href="https://www.visitlincolnshire.com/destinations/market-rasen/" target="_blank">Market Rasen</a>, a
pleasant Lincolnshire town, but hardly on the beaten tourist track. But if I
hadn’t come here, I would never have visited the wonderful Lincoln Museum or
seen the only statue I know incorporating an algebraic calculation (the statue
is to George Boole, whose development of algebraic logic laid the foundations
for modern computer design, and who grew up and taught in Lincoln. Photo at the end). <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Cats are lovely companions and need less attention than dogs,
but they can be characters — a rather hyper pair near Bath had to be kept apart,
and one of them was not above running into the kitchen and nipping my ankle to
remind me to feed her. But such forward behaviour is unusual.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiYGcI7_AWF3IVkYmEfsgjfWiooN8R1KpMWlSh-AZ3TdCrdMmayfdCtaJ4f6VZCTFcsfARrSEUDD8pZOY6Dcv5Sjto-x3T_ku3CcFZUHurex5Ge2ry3i-Jc3_E8MQR3cu56RfSzkcXxUpeCbm17fGZJppoPAWpPJL9ChoT0iFfcfc8oxQVvsTZ1Dw-p0/s4032/Kipper%20spring.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiYGcI7_AWF3IVkYmEfsgjfWiooN8R1KpMWlSh-AZ3TdCrdMmayfdCtaJ4f6VZCTFcsfARrSEUDD8pZOY6Dcv5Sjto-x3T_ku3CcFZUHurex5Ge2ry3i-Jc3_E8MQR3cu56RfSzkcXxUpeCbm17fGZJppoPAWpPJL9ChoT0iFfcfc8oxQVvsTZ1Dw-p0/s320/Kipper%20spring.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Kipper, an aged Oxfordshire gent</span></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Memorable pet sitting experiences </b><p class="MsoNormal">Some other memorable moments and experiences I’ve had pet sitting
are:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">•<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>walking
between the beautiful Oxfordshire villages of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adderbury" target="_blank">Adderbury</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deddington" target="_blank">Deddington</a> as
abundant Red Admiral butterflies flew up around my feet<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">•<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>making firm
friends with the first people I sat for in 2018, in the Suffolk town of
<a href="https://www.thesuffolkcoast.co.uk/suffolk-coast-towns-and-villages/woodbridge" target="_blank">Woodbridge</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">•<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>seeing a
deer raise its head from the grass in the twilight on Farnham Park in Surrey (I
never expected deer so close to the town)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">•<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>sitting in
a top floor flat above the bustling streets of Brixton reading <a href="https://tiffanyjenkinsinfo.com/repatriation/" target="_blank">Keeping their marbles: How the treasures of the past ended up in museums… and why they should stay there</a> by Tiffany Jenkins — the most detailed case in favour of retaining ‘contested’
objects in museums I’ve read (raiding new bookshelves — with permission of
course — is one of the pleasures of sitting)<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaeWTZckT7MYAXgynxiF7AyGSHf65mr9XyyNApQfqX6aTmz-zlj5oqdRtHT3jQeTekZdEoSTljKSJQsAlAUmKHydlNNccFamgQDf4FUlEnhPqpnVrC3jnVI1IoCYsyH0fyUe6iHAUVIRcoYRGS5s5SN0iZAMwmePQziIyEUwE8jbXVbu0-3xOhT9QzfU/s4032/Arnold.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaeWTZckT7MYAXgynxiF7AyGSHf65mr9XyyNApQfqX6aTmz-zlj5oqdRtHT3jQeTekZdEoSTljKSJQsAlAUmKHydlNNccFamgQDf4FUlEnhPqpnVrC3jnVI1IoCYsyH0fyUe6iHAUVIRcoYRGS5s5SN0iZAMwmePQziIyEUwE8jbXVbu0-3xOhT9QzfU/s320/Arnold.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Arnold in Sheffield changes the settings on my laptop</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Are sitters or sits in more demand?</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Supply and demand? Sits seem to be taken very fast in
London, as do longer-term sits anywhere. Those in remoter places may take more
time, but my impression from the Trusted Housesitters site is that sits and
sitters are fairly evenly balanced. And like me, many people have both sitters
in their home and sit for others. So if you are either looking for care for
your furry one(s), or a chance to travel with free accommodation and
four-legged companionship, it is well worth considering.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFvnH9QHYrC8Caja6cLBXPUm7FxytLGcnEz3m7MMNXD1Rd_q4KNnd9n4Q2RkR9xnRlJTOcRuVG8cwP4zCEKB-DiiB0khpTyGsXEJ6tIR0i0mSKFFedVkcMZqdJGKtEZ-uwBzoZjULKy4XfbDUSv15DOQApl1VcT7uOZOrZ4MvZvnwJhyyhe31EaLP3XA/s3840/Tony%20on%20the%20sofa.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFvnH9QHYrC8Caja6cLBXPUm7FxytLGcnEz3m7MMNXD1Rd_q4KNnd9n4Q2RkR9xnRlJTOcRuVG8cwP4zCEKB-DiiB0khpTyGsXEJ6tIR0i0mSKFFedVkcMZqdJGKtEZ-uwBzoZjULKy4XfbDUSv15DOQApl1VcT7uOZOrZ4MvZvnwJhyyhe31EaLP3XA/s320/Tony%20on%20the%20sofa.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Tony the little lion in Suffolk</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuZOmDpyaGD_Pkp0_stZYMU1y5u9GZhrHXtwyoL4pg-usIZczux8LNaDjqKTmW0J4hYoQPjFqBXtrIbqAW6QQD0OveyuSxAZWghQeWIMkYn8hf2sIgKuf7dWViqDjRAnPVg_4TRJ-4vpk56YGZYWFap63Zb9r5uohzQBZqFTsjz9CZLi7ECjRLSaP1d8/s4032/statue.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuZOmDpyaGD_Pkp0_stZYMU1y5u9GZhrHXtwyoL4pg-usIZczux8LNaDjqKTmW0J4hYoQPjFqBXtrIbqAW6QQD0OveyuSxAZWghQeWIMkYn8hf2sIgKuf7dWViqDjRAnPVg_4TRJ-4vpk56YGZYWFap63Zb9r5uohzQBZqFTsjz9CZLi7ECjRLSaP1d8/s320/statue.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">statue of George Boole with two students…<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeg5l6R7DVPPe49aI6n1DGEJFBrYdNI-kbFriBZZsnlQCqvcAI4Ek9K0CkDVAW6Qvh4jwJx3Fo_vUfftleuV4xmpdwDDFjCzHOwWusRc99MRdOZA414WOmb_x3kgeI79zQZvF7iwbC5dpcs0j4EknoC42LEptvLDwnFmrBq8VBDJWXrHdOXZVEMIxuC0/s4032/equation.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeg5l6R7DVPPe49aI6n1DGEJFBrYdNI-kbFriBZZsnlQCqvcAI4Ek9K0CkDVAW6Qvh4jwJx3Fo_vUfftleuV4xmpdwDDFjCzHOwWusRc99MRdOZA414WOmb_x3kgeI79zQZvF7iwbC5dpcs0j4EknoC42LEptvLDwnFmrBq8VBDJWXrHdOXZVEMIxuC0/s320/equation.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">… and the equation</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-15617334949685714092023-06-17T10:16:00.001-07:002023-10-14T03:52:20.798-07:00#59: Teapot<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3cuigxa9DhJMIEyOwKJ3k4v6LToPmH2y0DrPUeE-n84EItR8v9IF6SPpzCbnahJweD23w5JMGK1v2_CP9Sw_lT6HsmP-OvXpmTKX46DxgRMrTeegXp1Y33eE67EgHdRA2TlNHmiYK1fvkgOfkz8Nj_dHfwLir2jPukV5kGLpjijeHST-YAwoehlAM/s4032/broken%20teapot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3cuigxa9DhJMIEyOwKJ3k4v6LToPmH2y0DrPUeE-n84EItR8v9IF6SPpzCbnahJweD23w5JMGK1v2_CP9Sw_lT6HsmP-OvXpmTKX46DxgRMrTeegXp1Y33eE67EgHdRA2TlNHmiYK1fvkgOfkz8Nj_dHfwLir2jPukV5kGLpjijeHST-YAwoehlAM/s320/broken%20teapot.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Teapots in life</b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Time to say goodbye to a beloved teapot, due to a broken lid
and chipped spout. This morning saw me in a charity shop examining another, but
I reluctantly decided the lack of draining holes to the spout meant it was
impractical. Plus it didn’t have that friendly chubby shape.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wonder what is so appealing about teapots? Two things I
think – first, they are a sign of company – ‘tea for two’, even if you are
making tea for one (a teapot for one which holds exactly two cups is ideal, to
my mind). Secondly, using a teapot is more of an event, a longer break, than
bunging a teabag into a cup.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnxPwyDEl8lRqY3UdRPN8Ml7QU3DRNx3qt5qSoQTHebhf-0VVym6ZeD2xPj56l38dcrh7gbsVcZI21b7TneehK7YMB0QYN9idt5Ap7cEuq4KxjUhSbqJP8FBiHU9zTN6tSgpzT-KYtoG0-CnBlYULy-JDzgqr8wV2oq-1bmxH_RNYc7RffdXASh1A/s4032/Tea%20for%20one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnxPwyDEl8lRqY3UdRPN8Ml7QU3DRNx3qt5qSoQTHebhf-0VVym6ZeD2xPj56l38dcrh7gbsVcZI21b7TneehK7YMB0QYN9idt5Ap7cEuq4KxjUhSbqJP8FBiHU9zTN6tSgpzT-KYtoG0-CnBlYULy-JDzgqr8wV2oq-1bmxH_RNYc7RffdXASh1A/s320/Tea%20for%20one.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tea for one</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Teapots in literature</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What about teapots in literature? There’s Intelligence Service
landlady Millie McCaig’s ‘ministrations with the teapot’ in le Carré’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tinker_Tailor_Soldier_Spy" target="_blank">Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy </a>on the climactic night when the mole is unmasked. Then there
is Fanny visiting Lady Polly in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_in_a_Cold_Climate" target="_blank">Love in a Cold Climate</a> by Nancy Mitford. Fanny
discovers Polly ‘amid the usual five o’clock paraphernalia of silver kettle on
flame, silver teapot, Crown Derby cups and plates and enough sugary food to
stock a pastrycook’s shop’.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But my favourite is Arthur Dent in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy " target="_blank">Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy</a> losing patience with the Nutri-Matic Drinks Synthesiser which always
produces ‘a plastic cup filled with a liquid which was almost, but not quite,
entirely unlike tea’. Arthur sits and tells the machine how to make a proper
cup:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>He told the Nutri-Matic about India, he told it about China,
he told it about Ceylon. He told it about broad leaves drying in the sun. He
told it about silver teapots. He told it about summer afternoons on the lawn.
He told it about putting in the milk before the tea so it wouldn’t get scalded.
He even told it (briefly) about the history of the East India Company.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘So that’s it, is it?’ said the Nutri-Matic when he had
finished.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘Yes,’ said Arthur, ‘that is what I want.’<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘You want the taste of dried leaves boiled in water?’<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘Er, yes. With milk.’<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘Squirted out of the cow?’<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘Well, in a manner of speaking I suppose…’<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoQuote"><b>‘I’m going to need some help with this one,’ said the machine
tersely. All the cheerful burbling had dropped out of its voice and it now
meant business.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The machine joins forces with the ship’s computer to try to
solve this problem, with potentially disastrous results (although the tea they
produce is wonderful). <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Back to Earth. I would nominate the <a href="https://www.westleton-whitehorse.co.uk/" target="_blank">White Horse Inn</a> in
Westleton, Suffolk, for ‘the most generous teapot award’ for this year – tea
for one turned out to have about 6 cups. There are much worse ways to spend a
sunny afternoon then sipping it away in an East Anglian pub garden. Now, time
for another cup.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWazUdt4ENOXnWkEluCKE4lhEN9WH0OjqSLmhxhXICwPhqh23FtfHYPlCgLRkqSyPaDo9M0NcLMGwYjAV9MAFYQtyWCyerdF5evclBOriGaexcbwzRpehMhoLeZQXEl87HC8-x0nUp2nxDcTSQ3KkuCCJUL-AQPINNNnQEUxPCLTHX1Un3BAQPhoQO/s4032/Whitehorse%20Teapot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWazUdt4ENOXnWkEluCKE4lhEN9WH0OjqSLmhxhXICwPhqh23FtfHYPlCgLRkqSyPaDo9M0NcLMGwYjAV9MAFYQtyWCyerdF5evclBOriGaexcbwzRpehMhoLeZQXEl87HC8-x0nUp2nxDcTSQ3KkuCCJUL-AQPINNNnQEUxPCLTHX1Un3BAQPhoQO/s320/Whitehorse%20Teapot.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tea at the White Horse Inn, Westleton</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-82371363874837253622023-03-24T11:56:00.003-07:002023-09-24T02:27:48.499-07:00#58: Prejudice warning<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3cX4ecR5NiBWpjltE3YtAwhj2L3EWJwY7gWIxzj587i8ZxBzDlFPjJGXVQ31mWko4fOKJCxOZ_6BoSGImWpriX-C2EpXVfJRamyvy9SiaNvDX0t_OeBu9e78VSgRgn6AsGecZOZls8bbJJRu4vQRyIswuf04OIDVCpMvQl5w1-Icu0pjifrZuX0P/s4032/book%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynDOzxijrMq5jTgtmFOi7rwwVn-vvA5djukJHsOSh1o00Ao-9ZIcUEC5aIVZL-lON9QlZQz6xaKWRMwOtoYfxExrEjzaXlYQmIc2DzhkAgNXN5_G6oABfucRrO8Y1kuok00_FEsBOo8_qDiJ0_WW-_e0Fk5jVeL9gizGxje9ddUznb3vT4MfxP5Vb/s4032/book%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynDOzxijrMq5jTgtmFOi7rwwVn-vvA5djukJHsOSh1o00Ao-9ZIcUEC5aIVZL-lON9QlZQz6xaKWRMwOtoYfxExrEjzaXlYQmIc2DzhkAgNXN5_G6oABfucRrO8Y1kuok00_FEsBOo8_qDiJ0_WW-_e0Fk5jVeL9gizGxje9ddUznb3vT4MfxP5Vb/s320/book%20cover.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Love in a Cold Climate</i>,</span><span style="text-align: left;"> published by Penguin</span><span style="text-align: left;"> Random House</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I was dismayed to open a newly bought copy of one of my
favourite novels, Nancy Mitford’s <i>Love in a Cold Climate</i>, to find this on an
introductory page:<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
<tbody><tr>
<td style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 450.8pt;" valign="top" width="601">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p>In this book
are some expressions and depictions of prejudices that were commonplace in British
society at the time it was written. These prejudices were wrong then and are
wrong today. We are printing the novel as it was originally published because
to make changes would be the same as pretending these prejudices never
existed.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQer13fwU723EMcSUWDcdv3YZcMR4A-EYcJ_ErfQ_ySptdDDulorAkNSWafHKpM69LzYGjmFFG1xGxr68KJq898d4Stz4U71EzwcVZOOFTNSY0bVOEOB7FdolyOsQIL3IIOccocDCU_fmOJaRwZMjHQFbi8fqcERqYiCe-2UkmmCapqJUHREW4nmS/s4032/warning.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQer13fwU723EMcSUWDcdv3YZcMR4A-EYcJ_ErfQ_ySptdDDulorAkNSWafHKpM69LzYGjmFFG1xGxr68KJq898d4Stz4U71EzwcVZOOFTNSY0bVOEOB7FdolyOsQIL3IIOccocDCU_fmOJaRwZMjHQFbi8fqcERqYiCe-2UkmmCapqJUHREW4nmS/s320/warning.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>My objections</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These are my objections to this warning of prejudice:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">1. It is preachy, lecturing the reader on how they should
read and think.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">2. It denigrates British society as a whole, by saying these
prejudices were common.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">3. It implies a central purpose of publishing is to moralise
— it says the prejudices are only allowed to remain in order to show us they
existed. It does not consider that they were part of a complex culture and way
of thinking which forms the society portrayed in the book which, just like
ours, was not uniformly bad or good.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">4. It is inimical to the spirit of literature. Such
ideologically-based statements tend to kill literature since their broadbrush,
political, often fundamentalist approach does not sit well with individual
experiences, the food of the novel. (I have explored this more deeply in
another post on <a href="https://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/2021/01/jane-eyre.html" target="_blank"><i>Jane Eyre</i></a>.) <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal">5. It is especially inimical to Nancy Mitford’s funny, wry, gently
ironic tone.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>What are we being warned of?</b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So what are the editors warning us about? The story of Boy
Dougdale, the ‘lecherous lecturer’, molesting his young relatives and fascinating
them with it? ‘And I got some great sexy pinches as he passed the nursery
landing. Do admit, Fanny,’ says Jassy Radlett after one visit. Boy’s behaviour makes
his beautiful niece Polly Hampton fall in love with him, and eventually they
marry. Friend of the family Davey reports back on their wedded state when he
returns from Sicily, where the couple have gone to live: ‘Well, all I can say
is I know it is wrong, not right, to arouse the sexual instincts of little
girls so that they fall madly in love with you, but the fact is, poor old Boy
is taking a fearful punishment. You see, he has literally nothing to do from
morning to night, except water his geraniums, and you know how bad it is for
them to have too much water; of course, they are all leaf as a result.’ The
last sentence is Davey’s wonderfully true-to-life gay humour and Mitford’s
delicious comedy. Not exactly a prejudice, but a different take on sexual
behaviour with minors.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or perhaps we are being warned about this early description of
the Hampton family’s aristocratic ancestry: ‘… in 1770, the Lord Hampton of the
day brought back, from a visit to Versailles, a French bride, a Mademoiselle de
Montdore. Their son had brown eyes, dark skin and presumably, for it is
powdered in all the pictures of him, black hair. This practice did not persist
in the family; he married a golden-haired heiress from Derbyshire and the
Hamptons reverted to their blue and gold looks, for which they are famous to
this day.’ Oh dear — implied negativity about a dark complexion. Well, since
the book informs us this dark-featured man had ‘a great and life-long
friendship with the Regent’ perhaps we should not take it as the plain evidence
of British prejudice which the editors encourage us to.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Escaping the
ideological filter </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How boring it is to read literature in spot-the-prejudice
mode. Mitford’s wry comedy is, like Boy’s geraniums, a sensitive growth, one
which is spoiled by top-down moralising directives. But ideologies have
overwhelming voices. Despite my determination to the contrary, to my dismay
when I started to read the book alarm bells started ringing at examples of
wrong thinking, to the detriment of the story. But I recovered in time to enjoy
the story of this extended family: Polly and her exuberant young relatives
Jassy and Victoria; Cedric the heir from the colonies (Canada) who, as Polly is
cut off from our inheritance by her marriage, gains everything material that
she might have had. Does he feel guilty about this? Not a bit. ‘No cruel looks
at <i>One</i>,’ he says, referring to
himself. ‘Fair’s fair, you know’. He
changes the appearance, and the life, of Polly’s mother by giving her
the full-time occupation of becoming beautiful with ‘creaming and splashing and
putting on a mask and taking it off again and having her nails done and her
feet and then all the exercises, as well as having her teeth completely
rearranged and the hair zipped off her arms and legs’. And lastly, there is the
counterfoil, Fanny the plain narrator with her unruly heather-like hair and
unworldly academic husband.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>So what motivates
such prejudice warnings? </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12pt;">I assume such warnings are
inserted because the publishers do not want to be seen as endorsing everything
in the work they publish. But surely we don’t believe they do endorse
everything — freedom of imagination, and the often conflicting views this
produces, is one of the things which keeps literature alive, and publishers
can’t agree with everything. And in that case we should have warnings on the
<i>Bible</i>, <i>Silence of the Lambs</i>, <i>On the Road</i>, <i>The Naked Lunch</i>… and countless others.
There is certainly a place for warning people about upsetting content, but <i>Love in a Cold Climate</i> is no candidate for that. Publishers, please trust the
reader a little more to make their own judgements, and to realise that
societies of past times had different values to ours.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-70537751084593996882022-12-08T07:55:00.016-08:002023-10-14T03:46:21.696-07:00#57: Rhetoric<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh08RAcvaOt3-MWJYcieaht-zgX4PZTpxtH88R9dFmnmsXEAA6x817vBo20RBS5UdNn3GT_mJ8O6moEzFXFP1REYO8cS9m8swBT4i4H14jCtx9pOedgH1Vu5D3WQhYabtJS-oF4twFtT1kRS9hL4LryUtEcPZOfLKBycagyTfG_F_e6zsi-jeK93c1/s768/rhetoric-768x386.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="386" data-original-width="768" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh08RAcvaOt3-MWJYcieaht-zgX4PZTpxtH88R9dFmnmsXEAA6x817vBo20RBS5UdNn3GT_mJ8O6moEzFXFP1REYO8cS9m8swBT4i4H14jCtx9pOedgH1Vu5D3WQhYabtJS-oF4twFtT1kRS9hL4LryUtEcPZOfLKBycagyTfG_F_e6zsi-jeK93c1/s320/rhetoric-768x386.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #f2f2f2; text-align: start;"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #000066;"><span style="font-size: 11.2px;">'Rhetoric” by EpicTop10.com (CC BY 2.0)<br /><br /></span></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b>What do you think of when you hear the word ‘rhetoric’? I
asked a few friends and this is what they said:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>I think of Cicero and rhetoric — a spoken essay or
persuasive piece. Asking questions without opposition, or without having them answered.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>It’s often political, in my opinion. Sounds like a long
speech.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>I can see it began with Cicero — this is how you persuaded
people. But when you know the tropes it becomes <i>mere </i>rhetoric. As soon
as the cat’s out of the bag it’s not magic any more.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The word now seems to have a negative feel, perhaps paired
with the words ‘empty’ or, as the third speaker says, ‘mere’. It implies
insincerity. Also, it is often associated with politics, as the second speaker
says. For example, a Spectator article by Kevin Hague in June 2022 on the first
instalment of the Scottish government’s independence prospectus says:<span style="color: black; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;"> ‘</span>Instead of the
robust analysis and sound logical reason we might expect from a paper produced
by Scottish civil servants, we are instead offered pages upon pages of lazy
rhetorical assertion.’<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yet <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhetoric" target="_blank">rhetoric </a>was a central part of a young gentleman’s
education from Ancient Greece until the late nineteenth century, and is <a href="https://rhetoric.olemiss.edu/studying-rhetoric/what-is-rhetoric/" target="_blank">still taught today</a>. Aristotle laid out the first systematic ground rules. It was a
positive accomplishment, meaning the art of speaking and persuading. It
included a wide range of speaking skills, such as ways of exaggerating or
minimising your points; selecting words and phrases to surprise and delight
your audience; down to well-known epithets like ‘brave soldier’ or ‘sturdy oak’.
<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwEytKI6Y9Y885WpLqtQGbkw8fcvUZ5RWSP2QpXPiS0j8S_hVng1IIqEWbHDo72YNnO-aLHQM7bSM4WeEMf3JrTCtd1xHTXDOyF1LAJ2MKgL1RLh5k2_cg-SM3_MsNgOeu575NM5Vatrv_-aopPKUXaI0HpyOU-_YfITwN2c5qwm9xeeam_-LH-0s/s824/rhetoric%20Aristotle.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwEytKI6Y9Y885WpLqtQGbkw8fcvUZ5RWSP2QpXPiS0j8S_hVng1IIqEWbHDo72YNnO-aLHQM7bSM4WeEMf3JrTCtd1xHTXDOyF1LAJ2MKgL1RLh5k2_cg-SM3_MsNgOeu575NM5Vatrv_-aopPKUXaI0HpyOU-_YfITwN2c5qwm9xeeam_-LH-0s/s320/rhetoric%20Aristotle.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">So it was originally an oral form which moved to writing.
Rhetorical devices were catalogued as an aid for writers by critics such as George
Puttenham in the sixteenth century, and it was used in poetry, essays and other
written genres. To give just one example, literary critic Walter Ong points out
that Victorian prose writing drew on the rhetorical virtue of ‘copia’, speaking
in abundance, and this to us can seem irritatingly verbose.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Rhetoric on a private level</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">So how might rhetoric perform not to an audience, but on an
individual, private level? This is one of the questions I’ve been thinking
about recently while reading sixteenth century poet Philip Sidney’s ‘Astrophil
and Stella’, a series of 108 sonnets and 11 songs about unrequited love for the
lady Stella. In <a href="https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/astrophil-and-stella-sonnet-34" target="_blank">sonnet 34</a> Astrophil has a dialogue with an inner critic, who
tells him ‘wise men’ will think his complaints about his misery stupid. Then
those men shouldn’t tell anyone, Astrophil retorts, and no one will be
disappointed. But the inner critic is not happy with this reply — it is stupid
to speak without an audience:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>What idler thing, then speak and not be heard?</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Astrophil replies:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>What harder thing than smart, and not to speak?</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In other words, if you are hurting, you have to speak, no
matter whether there is an audience or not. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These two lines from the sonnet are both rhetorical
questions in our commonly understood sense, in that they do not require a real
answer. Not only that, but the second question responds to the first by echoing
its rhythms and retorting rather than engaging. The attempted answer is itself
a rhetorical question, batting the ball back to the critic, so to speak. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Much of Astrophil and Stella lies between these two questions
— written from pain out of necessity, but without a defined audience. It is not
clear who the series is written for in fact, and is not writing without an
audience pointless? But feeling without speaking is impossible, says Astrophil
here. So the rhetoric has taken us to a place outside the declamatory structure
of these two questions, to a place created by the tension between them.
Astrophil has not persuaded himself but the sonnet form allows these two
unanswered questions to stand, unresolved.<o:p></o:p></p><br />Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-37769197456283405252022-11-01T05:06:00.008-07:002023-10-27T02:38:37.790-07:00#56: The Light in Suburbia<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20kRIB8XwZb5GrdAa0_Ez3fo7yQHUmDBtT8zP14o_u4AEyW8hubNrhQyZBRexr4k-w79KJnx0NlV4gnD5JPK-Z_R0Dxq35mYVRiPz_rk0fhnP7-ce7Bs9ZCEgCHsZ5Luoj669siAfFEMo4cKfQOHJ5UmxBJcqYzwOLDgrYbB0oGbM1XKr6i2Ide5V/s4032/book%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20kRIB8XwZb5GrdAa0_Ez3fo7yQHUmDBtT8zP14o_u4AEyW8hubNrhQyZBRexr4k-w79KJnx0NlV4gnD5JPK-Z_R0Dxq35mYVRiPz_rk0fhnP7-ce7Bs9ZCEgCHsZ5Luoj669siAfFEMo4cKfQOHJ5UmxBJcqYzwOLDgrYbB0oGbM1XKr6i2Ide5V/s320/book%20cover.jpg" width="240" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Light in Suburbia: a Year of Lockdown Painting</i>s by Ian Archie Beck</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="OLE_LINK1">A man I once knew used to enjoy
strolling around neighbouring streets on Sunday mornings, looking at houses
with their front gardens, front doors with stained glass inserts, hanging
baskets, paths. Not in an intrusive way, but rather enjoying the homeliness and
even beauty of them. I used to accompany him, slightly mystified at what could
be so interesting.<o:p></o:p></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">These suburban streets
are the world Ian Beck conjures in <i><a href="https://unbound.com/books/the-light-in-suburbia/" target="_blank">The Light in Suburbia: A Year of Lockdown Paintings</a></i>, a book of watercolour and crayon
pictures. The shadow of trees thrown on the white curved walls of a 1930s art
deco style house; the corner of a garden shed with a trees flowing up next to
its corrugated iron roof; a lemonade jug next to a window in spring, its static
floral patterns providing an accompaniment to the glancing shadows of leaves
behind it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Observing light</b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The book is divided
into the four seasons and works best for me leafed through chronologically, so
the places and objects recur in different lights, just as the objects and
buildings around us do through the year. So the lemonade jug in spring appears
again in autumn, larger and with darker, more sharply defined patterns.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">In the preface Beck
describes how the pictures in the book arose from lockdown. Confined to his
local area in Isleworth, he used to wander the streets early each morning and
observe how the light struck objects. For example, on one trip he notices 'a
group of mature trees planted at the corner of a junction of two crossing
streets. The trees had been planted by the enlightened local authority at the
same time that the houses were built, sometime in the 1920s. I was struck by
the warm colour that the light gave to the trunks and branches. There was a
haze effect made by the fresh leaf buds and there was an almost golden light
beyond in the distance'.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Lockdown proved, says
Beck, that he could take a break from illustrating books and 'might just paint for
myself, something I had done very little of since the heady days of art college
in the 1960s'. Not having to paint to a narrative, he said, proved refreshing. <o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbJc7IleL6qivvPd9C9m0Q7_vwaOKXPizhfzoP9DKg3f-Xlhtu-lFJ8DHmy7lUOeYCuFmClaBFoA6nNCUGkWdYP-nPHmprfz3UVZhcOWeOcLW_Sltflk7h_6y5aNAqAysxCzrD9yBlJxLRTDAOKBshzGIoRwPhy6nlQd_j8o-oCBsFrG7nUBRCo3y/s680/Isleworth%20winter%20evening%20.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="680" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbJc7IleL6qivvPd9C9m0Q7_vwaOKXPizhfzoP9DKg3f-Xlhtu-lFJ8DHmy7lUOeYCuFmClaBFoA6nNCUGkWdYP-nPHmprfz3UVZhcOWeOcLW_Sltflk7h_6y5aNAqAysxCzrD9yBlJxLRTDAOKBshzGIoRwPhy6nlQd_j8o-oCBsFrG7nUBRCo3y/s320/Isleworth%20winter%20evening%20.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Isleworth winter evening © Ian Archie Beck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>A quieter lockdown story</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">This is part of the
quieter lockdown story then, not the story of vaccines, restrictions and
financial emergency but the smaller things that people discovered through
reacquainting themselves with their localities. It is a world where many
learned to appreciate their neighbourhoods anew, start different projects and
even make new friends. Since pets were important for so many during lockdown, I
was particularly pleased to learn that Beck was made to discover a new area by
his greyhound Gracie, who one day pulled him in a different direction to his
usual walk.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Perhaps pictures,
rather than words, are the best medium for expressing this quiet break from the
narrative of catastrophe in order to take pleasure in the shadows of trees on
the backs of houses, or a buddleia bush bursting into an alleyway or marble
busts in sunlight.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="https://unbound.com/books/the-light-in-suburbia/" target="_blank">The Light in Suburbia</a></i> is available from Unbound.<o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSw6dKBR51j43ygHEOl7TSi5jD3yxAelbh7pU0L-y7tBPDRmCMF8PX7r3hbPJ0VHagAakcy68tr3Yju_jUSyjQ3qayrHMXAj0SemSqLrcoOjps7E6E2DwTSfzvTIay7EOKva-C8C3FI7f39U-PIYVAqC3rueZAnIjo9M4aT3TO6wDaMvlqm3vzLtq/s4032/alleyway%20beside%20Pitt%20Park.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSw6dKBR51j43ygHEOl7TSi5jD3yxAelbh7pU0L-y7tBPDRmCMF8PX7r3hbPJ0VHagAakcy68tr3Yju_jUSyjQ3qayrHMXAj0SemSqLrcoOjps7E6E2DwTSfzvTIay7EOKva-C8C3FI7f39U-PIYVAqC3rueZAnIjo9M4aT3TO6wDaMvlqm3vzLtq/s320/alleyway%20beside%20Pitt%20Park.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Alleyway beside Pitt Park © Ian Archie Beck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p>
</p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-32875879024331401842022-08-28T03:53:00.080-07:002023-01-01T01:59:37.488-08:00#55: Ancestors<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ReUhJ5ioix487kSy3ue1WdfQay5mv2osnpHQr1zfDzH60-UKcjuKC9HcHAluB-9TUn8WoQX89Wx0qmULKVfyU6Q4TBsJEcYlMwZ2yHX-io-9_ycAVa4_ngC3OPEOgnWKcYna34f1G3F2042pH5_AFcu7zP4XYd5n3O_DD7ZBpQsJammIQp1oOQA5/s4032/IMG_0299.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ReUhJ5ioix487kSy3ue1WdfQay5mv2osnpHQr1zfDzH60-UKcjuKC9HcHAluB-9TUn8WoQX89Wx0qmULKVfyU6Q4TBsJEcYlMwZ2yHX-io-9_ycAVa4_ngC3OPEOgnWKcYna34f1G3F2042pH5_AFcu7zP4XYd5n3O_DD7ZBpQsJammIQp1oOQA5/s320/IMG_0299.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Ancestors </i>by Alice Roberts</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Seven <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">burials</span></b> <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Ancestors</i> is subtitled ‘<a href="https://www.simonandschuster.co.uk/books/Ancestors/Alice-Roberts/9781471188046" target="_blank">The Prehistory of Britain in Seven Burials</a>’. In the book, Professor of the Public Engagement in Science at Birmingham University <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Roberts" target="_blank">Alice Roberts</a> uses burials, skeletons and their associated grave goods to
talk about Britain and its populations, previous archaeologists’ practices, and
current archaeological and cultural thought. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Amesbury Archer, one of the skeletons Roberts chooses, was found with what looked
like wrist guards and flint arrowheads around his body as well as pottery
beakers which had been tipped onto their sides. There were also ‘decorated,
delicate curls of gold’ which may have been earrings or hair wraps. The archer
was 35-45 years old when he died and from the early Bronze Age — 2400-2100 BCE.
This is the ‘richest Beaker burial’ in Europe, representing the man’s warrior
status, and the grave goods are the earliest known pieces of metal in Britain.
Roberts uses the Archer to discuss migration patterns, since he probably grew
up in the Alps. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Buried ponies <o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another skeleton in the book is the Pocklington Chariot
burial, from two or three centuries BCE. This has an intact chariot with the
skeleton of the driver, ‘his body tucked into a crouched position to fit him in’.
There are also upright ponies in the grave — headless, probably from a later
ploughing of the earth. Roberts asks Iron Age expert Melanie Giles how
the ponies got into the grave, upright. Giles replies:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">‘Well, from what we can tell, they’re an old pair of ponies…
So they’re a tried and trusted team. And maybe they trust their owners — enough
to go down into the pit. I would guess they are encouraged to take that jump
down into the grave pit, on their own, and then you get the chariot in, harness
them up — and perhaps slit their throats as you back-fill rapidly around them.’</p><p></p></blockquote><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is in parts like these that the book is best — careful
recounting of detail together with a reasoned interpretation based on
observation and analysis both of the site and of the skeletons. So we learn
also that a sword and shield buried with an Iron Age skeleton in the Isles of
Scilly were deliberately broken and that the grave contained a rare mirror.
These objects, says Roberts: ‘could represent alliances; they could be gifts
from mourners; they could be about old battles, won or lost; they could be
about putting a version of the past to bed; they could be about imagining a
future’. No escape from those ‘could bes’, just as Melanie Giles
earlier had said ‘maybe’, ‘I would guess’ and ‘perhaps’. But this uncertainty
opens a space for the imagination. A novelist could do a lot with such informed
speculation about the ponies, the sword and the mirror.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The book also highlights the processes of archaeology —
discovery, excavation, interpretation — and the activities of past
archaeologists such as Henry Pitt Rivers, whose meticulous recording of the context of his discoveries were ahead of its time and who
inferred population replacement movements from skull shapes, movements which Roberts hopes to
confirm with DNA tests on the very skulls he collected.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The book starts and finishes with the Thousand Ancient Genomes Project, an attempt to use DNA sequencing of skeletons in
archaeological remains to trace migration patterns to and from Britain, as well
as ways in which diseases spread.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>A bit scattered</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The book is less successful in two main ways. Firstly, I
would have liked a drawing together of the evidence from the disparate burials.
A timeline and summary of what was found in each dig would be helpful, as would
a map of the British Isles with each burial marked on it, and perhaps some
kind of imaging of the islands’ main populations at each time. I could also
imagine an infogram about how each burial confirmed or cast doubt on previous
historical knowledge. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Archaeology and politics</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Secondly, in my view Roberts is on shaky ground when
she tries to hitch her archaeological wagon to current political preoccupations. For example, the bones of the charioteer mentioned above
could not be identified as male or female and the grave contained both a sword
and a mirror, traditionally associated with men and women respectively. ‘Perhaps’,
says Roberts, such burials, and those of female charioteers, ‘could represent…
a third gender. And then perhaps there was a fourth gender we haven’t even
spotted; a fifth; a sixth’. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I take Roberts’s point about not being too hasty
with a binary judgement of sexes. However, it seems unlikely to me that Iron
Age people were as preoccupied with gender fluidity as parts of twenty-first century
society. During the book Roberts gives a great many warnings to the reader not
to judge burials according to current views. But is this not what is happening
here?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Opinions <o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The book is also punctuated by basic homilies on topics such as race and gender — some connected with archaeology, some not. She labels as ‘wrongheaded
and futile’ the attempt to value a genetic connection to people from a particular place. She
also says the idea of race ‘makes no sense biologically or historically’ and
only racists believe in the idea. Well, my local council’s diversity unit sure
believe that race exists, as do any number of media outlets and campaigning
organisations. The book also contains a digression on the sexism of modern
Roman Catholicism, which she describes as a ‘religious empire and system of
political control’. I wondered if Roberts, vice-president of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humanists_UK" target="_blank">Humanists UK,</a> was letting
her opinions let rip in the way that cannot be done with a more cautious
approach to physical evidence needed as an archaeologist.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Go see the Archer</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">But we can see the skeletons, and judge some of these issues for
ourselves as far as possible. </span>Roberts
recommends a ‘pilgrimage’ to <a href="https://salisburymuseum.org.uk/collections/amesbury-archer/" target="_blank">Salisbury Museum</a> to see the Amesbury Archer. She
describes him as ‘a metal-bending, bow-wielding, time-travelling magician’.
This book would be, in parts, a good accompaniment to such a journey.<o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-63790386556532021052022-07-16T09:46:00.002-07:002022-07-23T11:26:18.795-07:00#54: E M Forster<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-LX67pu9z_-JHz3qSeXQL6WeerSBuPEtMfLMn1UCUEeioAzupxyfzYK_TZyfTQuuuQadXjnkiMCsgpJithjLF6N5HEEHukwTYwkR4G9Gl37VI_fzAcjK65ybM7PY2vxUnkSMJLpDWamn0SOUDnsjaFWugjW-EODlEekP4Pots-DRhaEXf4a27LHk/s640/p0cdwjq6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-LX67pu9z_-JHz3qSeXQL6WeerSBuPEtMfLMn1UCUEeioAzupxyfzYK_TZyfTQuuuQadXjnkiMCsgpJithjLF6N5HEEHukwTYwkR4G9Gl37VI_fzAcjK65ybM7PY2vxUnkSMJLpDWamn0SOUDnsjaFWugjW-EODlEekP4Pots-DRhaEXf4a27LHk/s320/p0cdwjq6.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Tamsin Greig as Vashti in<i> The Machine Stops</i> © BBC</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">The BBC blurb for their recent audio production of E M
Forster’s short story <i><a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0018fs6" target="_blank">The Machine Stops</a></i>
annoyed me. It said:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>In 1909, E M Forster took a break from linen suits, big hats
and unrequited love among the upper classes and wrote a story which predicts…globalisation,
the internet, Zoom, algorithms, social isolation and climate crisis.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I assume the linen suits and big hats is a reference to Forster's other novels, such as<i> A Room with a View</i>, <i>A Passage to India</i> and<i> Howards End</i>. I feel the blurb dehumanises a group of people because of their social status and unwontedly dismisses the talent which Forster showed in his other novels.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Machine Stops</i> is
indeed uncharacteristic for Forster in being science-fiction. It is the story
of Vashti, who like most other people lives underground with all reality
mediated by The Machine, so she never experiences nature directly. One day her
son Kuno returns to persuade her to visit him above ground. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">More familiar territory for Forster was indeed the early twentieth
century worlds of <i>Howards End</i> or <i>A Room with View</i>, in which cultures and
families collide and people work out how to respond. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRIe_iarHdBDOEKqmAZD2gYOZnMHWhElZjOyCa56_qaa7fZsNRuj8pb2QqTQTK1Uce9cbTolZsavPGE9Tny9-sAiHqoktUTFDnQXNVhr-NiO4M4TFRqjNP3RJeEM23Ti2e7uGilYJAYfH4lTD-Z44ZVujIhfHcEn_eIoP0et80ypYQ1ZM_w9lOygd/s4032/IMG_0233.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRIe_iarHdBDOEKqmAZD2gYOZnMHWhElZjOyCa56_qaa7fZsNRuj8pb2QqTQTK1Uce9cbTolZsavPGE9Tny9-sAiHqoktUTFDnQXNVhr-NiO4M4TFRqjNP3RJeEM23Ti2e7uGilYJAYfH4lTD-Z44ZVujIhfHcEn_eIoP0et80ypYQ1ZM_w9lOygd/s320/IMG_0233.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">The BBC blurb implies that Forster’s concerns in these other
stories were lightweight because they were about the upper classes, who wore
different clothes to us. It makes me wonder if the person who wrote it has read any of
his novels or appreciated the depth of his characterisations. For example Lucy, in <i>A Room with A View</i>,
is a young woman who has been taught how to respond to experiences before they have happened to her. She accepts the aesthete Cecil as a future
husband and has to learn in the short period of her engagement — backwards, as
it were — whether he really suits her. Helped by George, who she meets in
Florence on holiday and who kisses her twice before she has time to think about
it, she gradually learns that he does not, and breaks off the engagement.<b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Moving on to <i>Howards End</i>,
the novel shows what can happen when people of different backgrounds and beliefs are thrown together. The dying Mrs Wilcox’s pencil-scrawled bequest of the house to the Bohemian, literary Margaret Schlegel brings the Schlegel sisters together with the materialistic Henry Wilcox and his conventional family. At the same time, bank clerk Leonard Bast tries to implement his literary learning in his
financially straitened life. He meets the Wilcox and Schlegels with partly hopeful, partly disastrous results. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The novel also shows the power of a house and a location in nature in bringing people together and helping them feel at home in the wider, emotional and even spiritual sense of the phrase. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Discounting these sympathetic and profound portraits because
most of the people were comfortably off, as the BBC blurb seems to do, is
prejudice. It does not encourage the sharing of human experience, one of the
novel’s achievements. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forster did not believe in responding to events through already-worked-out schemes of judgement — ideologies or prejudices. To illustrate this I will go back to Lucy in <i>A Room with a View</i>, who has just dumped Cecil. But she is denying her own nature
by pretending that she does not love George:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk107842720"><b>(She was one of) the vast armies of
the benighted, who follow neither the heart nor the brain, and march to their
destiny by catchwords.</b><o:p></o:p></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Catchwords: White privilege. Homophobia. Levelling up. Such
shorthand should not replace proper thinking, as Orwell warned in <a href="https://files.libcom.org/files/Politics%20and%20the%20English%20Language%20-%20George%20Orwell.pdf" target="_blank">Politics and the English Language</a>:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>When you think of something abstract you are more inclined
to use words from the start, and unless you make a conscious effort to prevent
it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the
expense of blurring or even changing your meaning.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">An extreme post-modernist might claim that all language
consists of catchwords, in that it is a common currency invented by society
which implements power relations and has an uneasy relationship with reality.
On this reading, Lucy would only be swapping one ideology for another in
rejecting Cecil for George — and the novel shows us this is not true. He is
right for her, for her true self — which includes her physical responses. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Room_with_a_View_(1985_film)" target="_blank">The 1985 Merchant Ivory film</a> captures very well the stultifying effect of
conventional responses and the truth in one’s immediate responses — it is
Lucy’s pert, unconsidered replies, outbursts of laughter and anger where she is
most herself, where something can happen. And this is to do with the body, as Forster says in the novel.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To return to <i>The Machine Stops.</i> Bodily ‘intelligence’ is something Vashti has forgotten how
to use in that short story, as she
becomes very anxious when travelling and has forgotten to relate to others
face-to-face. When The Machine breaks down, Vashti and Kuno have to learn how
to experience the world first hand in the short time left to them. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The BBC blurb says that Vashti and Kuno are brought ‘to
the realisation that mankind’s only future is in shared humanity and a connection
to nature’. Not so far from Forster’s other novels then, linen suits notwithstanding.<o:p></o:p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-11845973817964091452022-05-23T06:35:00.005-07:002023-10-12T00:46:56.174-07:00#53: Greetings cards<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg165-hXpvggHpa-BR3RjWZIubD5kEyFbS4U1g-FsbJ4cNyUCryDKWIZzo9E5YwYQNacSWJ9419TtaHTtUlsJHnYDKmdZZravciHrcMWsIKXv0utx5eHDdyY6XJy0Gb4bQs04V0rYlB6pQhhQbSHv923bKVp7J__1YT9A-lQGvPRMaYYeu09ONBBhed/s4032/Victorian-style%20greetings%20card.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg165-hXpvggHpa-BR3RjWZIubD5kEyFbS4U1g-FsbJ4cNyUCryDKWIZzo9E5YwYQNacSWJ9419TtaHTtUlsJHnYDKmdZZravciHrcMWsIKXv0utx5eHDdyY6XJy0Gb4bQs04V0rYlB6pQhhQbSHv923bKVp7J__1YT9A-lQGvPRMaYYeu09ONBBhed/s320/Victorian-style%20greetings%20card.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Friends gave me these beautiful cards for my
birthday this year and last year. One is a delicately layered affair with lace,
a paper flower, a butterfly and a sparkly sequin, all on top of what looks like
a professionally distressed page from a French romantic novel. The other is an
origami-influenced geometric creation complete with real button. Inside both is
perfectly matched lining paper. They are now semi-permanent fixtures on my
dressing table — definitely too lovely to throw away. The card designer, Andalucia-based
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/LaGranjaOrgiva" target="_blank">Wendy Jackson</a>, told me how she started making cards after a back injury, and 33
years later is still in love with the practice.</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p><b>How did you start making greetings cards?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I
started making cards after a car accident about 33 years ago. I was off
work for about eight months with a lower spinal injury and my mum
decided to buy me some crafty goodies from a company in the U.K., Lakeland Plastics.
I think she was trying to get me to focus on creating, as a distraction
from the pain. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Once
I was back at work I mostly made cards for Christmas and family birthdays, but
then I would be asked by friends if I could make cards for them for special
occasions — it’s grown from there. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">My
job in the U.K. was sometimes very stressful, and being able spend a few hours
crafting at home afterwards really helped. I think a lot of my crafty friends
have embarked on crafting following some sort of illness or life
crisis. I suppose that’s why there are so many mindful colouring books on the
market for adults….. it’s a huge business!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL24kjAOUX9F_H-D8vX6840qurOsJPboKwDdrO0mIwN4Zvr5a2qM_hHeCwvT6yUjeCrOL8tZBvqnPS2dWGOEzBYIlY_UrZd-UswngTY6epW4KnXvhMqPUFmw8po71IopzKrnKCsS62AY6VhBcOO8yCPz6A8exDbEIiLRENkXdia0doAnI6YMmmp65y/s1080/Wendy%20picture%205.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="1080" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL24kjAOUX9F_H-D8vX6840qurOsJPboKwDdrO0mIwN4Zvr5a2qM_hHeCwvT6yUjeCrOL8tZBvqnPS2dWGOEzBYIlY_UrZd-UswngTY6epW4KnXvhMqPUFmw8po71IopzKrnKCsS62AY6VhBcOO8yCPz6A8exDbEIiLRENkXdia0doAnI6YMmmp65y/s320/Wendy%20picture%205.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p><b>How did your hobby progress?</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b> </b>At
the beginning I simply watched craft programmes on television which also meant
I would buy what was in the programmes — hence why I have so much crafty stash!
But now on Facebook and YouTube there are thousands of crafters giving tutorials,
demos or even just showing what they have bought! I suppose that must sound
very strange to a non-crafter. Over the years I’ve learnt lots of new
techniques.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p>I
was invited to join a design team for a U.K. designer, <a href="https://thatcraftplace.co.uk/" target="_blank">Lisa Horton Crafts</a>, a
couple of years ago, which was amazing. As part of the team, I would be sent
new products before they were available to buy. I would make card samples using
the new goodies and then post them back. These samples, along with others from
the team, were then used by Lisa on Create and Craft TV to demonstrate the new
products. Unfortunately I was forced to leave as post-Brexit the costs for me
to receive a free parcel of products was getting ridiculous. I paid €40
once!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI4YtqkDpaoIkwWv3t2C9exglMyuvc78syTy6ooTQqj9lPJLkwQq70GXJF381qEEoM7xL_cYfhAXDGp3ehmDbYc2hlJCnPP5BB_Rll0-BMTRHPjuGO1AZi9f9FSfNDloAgdCK7J_bSZg9b69WOQOGZVHKSCiPz1GuJZJ0i04JBg4gezNgN5jOzuYk/s1080/Wendy%20picture%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1017" data-original-width="1080" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI4YtqkDpaoIkwWv3t2C9exglMyuvc78syTy6ooTQqj9lPJLkwQq70GXJF381qEEoM7xL_cYfhAXDGp3ehmDbYc2hlJCnPP5BB_Rll0-BMTRHPjuGO1AZi9f9FSfNDloAgdCK7J_bSZg9b69WOQOGZVHKSCiPz1GuJZJ0i04JBg4gezNgN5jOzuYk/s320/Wendy%20picture%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p><b>How do you run the business now?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"> I’ve
called myself Olive Farm Crafts, simply because our house in Spain is La Granja
de Olivos. I don’t really see my greetings cards as a business — it’s just
what I love to do. If I can manage to sell any cards to friends and family then
that’s a bonus really — a few extra pennies to spend on craft supplies! I don’t
do anything other than share my makes online and rely on word of
mouth. I’m not good at marketing myself really — it’s not me!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p>I
am very lucky to have a large craft room here with loads of storage — but I do
share my craft space with my hubby (well he has a small corner for his computer…),
and when I’m in create mode I do encroach into his space and I’ve even
been known to cover the floor with things. I don’t think crafters ever have
enough room.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I
do love to buy new products as they are released by designers and craft companies.
I think that’s the addictive side of the crafting world — we all have to have
the latest products even if we don’t strictly need them. A lot of crafters also
have ‘full set syndrome’ — we have to have all of the inks or every marker
in a range. I’m not alone!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p><b>How does crafting in Spain compare to crafting in the
UK?</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Finding
supplies here in Spain has been challenging as card making isn’t really big
business here, though it’s definitely improving. I have a few go-to online
stores now. Ordering from the U.K. is tricky these days with the export/import
duties, but there are a couple of favourites that are registered now for IOSS
International One Stop Shop. This means I can pay Spanish taxes upfront and not
be charged by Correos on delivery.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p><b>Do you have any plans for the future?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I
would love to be on another design team, based the EU or otherwise purely
for digital stamps. I’m always on the lookout for an opportunity that would
work for me. I keep thinking of approaching one of the local shops but I’m not
confident enough to do that (in English or Spanish!), plus I still want it to
be enjoyable. Churning out hundreds of the same cards is not my idea of
fun really —<span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #1d2228; font-size: 10pt;"> </span>making something beautiful that I know will be
treasured or loved by the recipient is my motivation.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="background-color: white;">Find Olive Farm Crafts on </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/LaGranjaOrgiva" target="_blank">Facebook</a><span style="background-color: white;"> or
</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCs3rFkY3lmzoGsIptS9ClLg/videos?view_as=subscriber" target="_blank">YouTube.</a></p></div><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-65945821939239590352022-02-09T03:24:00.014-08:002023-09-22T12:07:10.372-07:00#52: Gallery label: 'The Promise'<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_sf5KenBRsGOL96Hj4s8IpnXcjGnnBOCSBVbu8eOhpscccArSCTP2IvVU9xXZMFWCucSRnyz3n03BSCfYl6aDtetb8J5bQixiQmrI5dQSO2kdtLMj09QFBGQys9o1UD2Hq4v11hKtf2gyuaNhai1xWYW8QeX_gFr1K8zTXoxI--sAWIJzZMLHJZj-=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_sf5KenBRsGOL96Hj4s8IpnXcjGnnBOCSBVbu8eOhpscccArSCTP2IvVU9xXZMFWCucSRnyz3n03BSCfYl6aDtetb8J5bQixiQmrI5dQSO2kdtLMj09QFBGQys9o1UD2Hq4v11hKtf2gyuaNhai1xWYW8QeX_gFr1K8zTXoxI--sAWIJzZMLHJZj-=w399-h300" width="399" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">' The Promise’ by Henry Scott Tuke</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">This painting is called ‘The Promise’. Take a look at it (there's a better image <a href="https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/the-promise-98337" target="_blank">here</a>). What might the boy and girl be thinking?
Who is foregrounded? The blossom takes up over half of the picture. What effect
does this have? What might ‘the promise’ be?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These are the type of questions I would sometimes ask an audience as a museum educator<span> </span>to get ‘inside’
gallery pictures and bring them alive a little. So I was very disappointed by
the accompanying label:<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9jjIuXUvyXIJrBONSKHj14iP6bQ5SpRZ7-DSENWySbjTBF8rxyFL1VjuzLJe5jW-rL16Vq0r-w5j9YPNpPDEG1ey5OrgM2Ul5xN--ESfv7BPYWFSTRfD-A4582TrYZWjX1uCJJxR16SGx-DRFPNOvIfwNss42Wgn0rkC2z86dXAhaCnFRubH0MujZ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9jjIuXUvyXIJrBONSKHj14iP6bQ5SpRZ7-DSENWySbjTBF8rxyFL1VjuzLJe5jW-rL16Vq0r-w5j9YPNpPDEG1ey5OrgM2Ul5xN--ESfv7BPYWFSTRfD-A4582TrYZWjX1uCJJxR16SGx-DRFPNOvIfwNss42Wgn0rkC2z86dXAhaCnFRubH0MujZ=w466-h349" width="466" /></a></div><br />
<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; margin-left: 35.2pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
<tbody><tr>
<td style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 375.65pt;" valign="top" width="501">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Evidence
suggests that Henry Scott Tuke would today identify as a gay man. By talking
about Tuke’s sexuality within the gallery, we are deliberately acknowledging
his importance to an established history of queer culture. By recognising
this history, it makes us more aware of it and less ignorant to its meaning.
It is with this awareness that the artwork then become something more
significant and a recognisable queerness emerges.<o:p></o:p></p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Histories of minorities need to be explicitly recognised. The problem is, as ceramicist Matt Smith said when I interviewed him for my book <a href="https://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/p/curiosities-from-cabinet.html" target="_blank">Curiosities from the Cabinet</a>, ‘museums deal with objects and there aren’t that many that are intrinsically gay’.<o:p> So interpretation has to fill in. This gallery has bravely tried to do this. </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Are brushstrokes sexual?</b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Nevertheless, I have some reservations about its style (the grammar needs improving) and the content: Even if Tuke was gay, did that inform his every brushstroke? He in fact painted many pictures of naked boys (see his <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Scott_Tuke" target="_blank">Wikipedia entry</a> for examples), but I can’t help feeling this label would fare even less well next to one of those, since it would explicitly ask us to look at the picture sexually and would diminish it. (According to the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Scott_Tuke" target="_blank">Wikipedia entry</a>, his paintings of nude youths are never explicitly sexual).</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The label gave me a similar uneasy feeling to seeing a
portrait of poet Gerald Manley Hopkins in a <a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/gayicons/exhib.htm" target="_blank">Queer Icons </a>exhibition at the
National Portrait Gallery exhibition in 2009; there is no evidence that Hopkins
might have wanted his supposed sexuality broadcast, or that it explicitly
influenced most of his work.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">More broadly, I think such an approach risks pigeonholing
artists as gay, female, disabled, white, black or whatever, undermining art’s
universality and ability to communicate with all. Labelling people in this way
amounts to making ‘identity-fragments’, according to blogger <a href="https://www.themarginalian.org/2018/01/01/john-o-donohue-walking-on-the-pastures-of-wonder/" target="_blank">Maria Popova</a>,
which undermine our wholeness. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>So how would I rewrite the label?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"> I think by using questions,
to invite the reader to look more deeply, which I regard as one of a museum label’s
two main functions (along with providing information):<o:p></o:p></p>
<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; margin-left: 35.2pt; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;">
<tbody><tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;">
<td style="border: 1pt solid windowtext; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; padding: 0cm 5.4pt; width: 13cm;" valign="top" width="491">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p>‘The Promise’
captures a moment in time which is both intense and fleeting. What are the
two youths thinking? What might the promise be?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tuke worked
in the Impressionist style, and lived in Newlyn, Cornwall, with a colony of
artists.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>If I wanted to mention Tuke’s supposed sexuality, I would
clarify that this is part of the museum’s interpretation, for example: ‘the
museum has chosen to place Tuke in its “queer history” group of painters’.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Another label in the same gallery is much more successful in
my view in pointing out the artist’s role in activism.The second paragraph reads: 'The artist believed in equal opportunities for women in art. She was a founder of the Manchester Society of Women Painters and in 1922 became the first female associate of the Royal Academy since the 18th century.' I like the way
description of Annie Swynnerton’s activism is in a separate paragraph and the
first paragraph focuses on the painting itself:<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiv-HbRzgrkkr3YB1vy_UveiERsxlb1u_DSfAI0BGSNLOXbioIYvoL-3OgQcUR85ztwNgUX_zwXqg55AMtWush1GVb-nB2NPrDggp8uGkuNv3EoolPi3iItFOvaSo8y-uDl_J6RC6opdgi6WP4DUHaX7uteC26vCEdUIMcRU74kVba4Sn1KeXkXRRJP=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiv-HbRzgrkkr3YB1vy_UveiERsxlb1u_DSfAI0BGSNLOXbioIYvoL-3OgQcUR85ztwNgUX_zwXqg55AMtWush1GVb-nB2NPrDggp8uGkuNv3EoolPi3iItFOvaSo8y-uDl_J6RC6opdgi6WP4DUHaX7uteC26vCEdUIMcRU74kVba4Sn1KeXkXRRJP=w411-h309" width="411" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">An image of the painting is <a href="https://artpaintingartist.org/the-sense-of-sight-by-annie-swynnerton/" target="_blank">here</a>.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I wonder if readers have other examples of ways in which
museums (successfully or unsuccessfully) integrate an artist or writer’s
sexuality into their interpretation?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-6236777395895163002021-12-19T09:10:00.003-08:002021-12-19T09:10:40.174-08:00#51: Charles Dickens Museum<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDJoN2x0_nF-GYQ_H6_we5CsMW_-DnX454uMJo-S7f3O9W_PgG3nrsUrLTUxgoPtpLhD54g1MdLxfLTveC2nulyjWtTTf5_RyeTNKjRNQdy4VMHGebO34xLpHy9WRrWYo9bwIGXSS0WPG0R9IelwmWrEtLE9rKHRgoD_JI5sXUYRJDyXMj8YSiKeRK=s400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDJoN2x0_nF-GYQ_H6_we5CsMW_-DnX454uMJo-S7f3O9W_PgG3nrsUrLTUxgoPtpLhD54g1MdLxfLTveC2nulyjWtTTf5_RyeTNKjRNQdy4VMHGebO34xLpHy9WRrWYo9bwIGXSS0WPG0R9IelwmWrEtLE9rKHRgoD_JI5sXUYRJDyXMj8YSiKeRK=s320" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">48 Doughty St<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal">‘Colour in Oliver’ says a leaflet for children I took away
from the <a href="https://dickensmuseum.com/" target="_blank">Charles Dickens Museum</a> at 48 Doughty Street, near Russell Square in
central London. On the top floor of the museum is a cartoon by <a href="https://www.coldwarsteve.com/" target="_blank">Cold War Steve</a> doing
just that, showing Boris Johnson as fat Mr Bumble saying ‘no’ to Oliver, with Home
Secretary Priti Patel grinning smugly behind. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dickens moved into the house in 1837 as a journalist, along
with his wife Catherine and son Charlie, and moved out two years later having
finished <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Pickwick Papers</i>, <i>Nicholas
Nickleby</i> and the hugely popular <i>Oliver Twist</i>, well on the way to
making his name. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8StBGSgt20cRxeHZ1-dlzA4QL7gUGf-7ZukbLJbmCRwXYi09HKLUxdVNZidv7YNEquoc8agztbNbCgPlZET8bwdinG7HbbD2KOzcHx7XBJDV3AsMR5Gj2mdirZWufVMOIu1QVKZp850Ur0Eeul8L1gj6i4dvt37Nh3dXM9XcKIdmaaOeoGHeZf2e3=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8StBGSgt20cRxeHZ1-dlzA4QL7gUGf-7ZukbLJbmCRwXYi09HKLUxdVNZidv7YNEquoc8agztbNbCgPlZET8bwdinG7HbbD2KOzcHx7XBJDV3AsMR5Gj2mdirZWufVMOIu1QVKZp850Ur0Eeul8L1gj6i4dvt37Nh3dXM9XcKIdmaaOeoGHeZf2e3=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Inside the house</b><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Initially I was sceptical about visiting the house since I
had read that Dickens’s furniture from Gad’s Hill Place in Kent, where he moved
20 years later, was arranged here. I envisaged rather a miscellaneous jumble of
objects in a house with little real connection with the writer.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But as I started to explore the house I was proved wrong, as
it dawned on me what attention, planning and knowledge the curators had spent
evoking what went on there, as well as Dickens’s life story and the life of the
novels, then and now. In the downstairs dining room, where the Dickenses loved to
entertain, are plates painted with the names of guests such as Thackeray, a
recipe book (so many courses!), silver ladles featuring characters from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Pickwick Papers</i>, and Dickens’s
minute instructions to his butler to close the inner hall doors as soon as the
gas was lighted.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The house gives a literal structure to Dickens’s life for
us. On the first floor is Dickens’s writing desk, its surface a mass of
scratches and marks. Next to it is a magazine showing an illustration of that
very desk with an empty chair next to it, marking Dickens’s death in the Christmas
1870 edition of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Graphic</i>. Then one
floor up is a large print of that very photo enlarged on the wall opposite a
bed. Nearby is the lock of Dickens’s hair along with the last instalment of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Mystery of Edwin Drood</i>,
half-finished when the author died. Nearby is a photo of the graves of his wife
Catherine, daughter Dora and sister-in-law Mary Hogarth. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This repetition — first the actual desk with a picture of it
in a contemporary magazine, then the same picture enlarged a floor up — is
quite rare in museums and made me think of the house partly as an artwork as
well as a scholarly creation, as though it were repeating a theme, appealing to
the emotions as well as conveying information. Inside the death-themed room too
it felt like an evocation of the writer’s death, a few metonymic objects standing
in for the reality, rather than a scholarly explanation. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The exhibitions included so well parts of the books — the
laundry copper, like the one where the Cratchits in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Christmas Carol </i>boiled the Christmas pudding (in the book the
pudding still smelt a little of boiled clothes); parts of Dickens’s life, such
as a note from his doctor showing he had a high pulse rate after he had publicly
read the episode where Bill Sikes kills Nancy in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oliver Twist</i>; and ways Dickens has influenced others, like an
advert showing Barnaby Williams as Fagin at the Birkenhead Hippodrome in 1921. It
tactfully acknowledged the life, while seeming to accept that museums can never
capture the life and fun of one of the Dickens’s dinner parties.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>The ghost of Dickens</b><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I left the house onto the terraced streets in the outer
edge of Bloomsbury, I found by worldview had momentarily changed – I noticed a
dreadlocked Deliveroo driver – what would Dickens have made of the gig economy?
– and bought a hot chocolate for a man begging outside Pret. A woman with a
white cane was being led away from the Royal National Institute of Blind People.
The ghost of Dickens, noticing those on the fringes of society, was briefly at
my shoulder.<o:p></o:p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjbEzFMj6JSWzAMm4wETAnfDKg4zxSKm7jI0txAPngI_zU06iVARFMp5cDh6kGkIO-3Kh2ti_ux_EemBIaYAWr6nC50wDlos6L0AncRsbZv3H2Pof9XUwNtZmZx4XUG13UUFXhHKqALDtweDpOM02tCbboplfbcTxXvzWC4YRatsT9DQF4obVT-Ghq=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjbEzFMj6JSWzAMm4wETAnfDKg4zxSKm7jI0txAPngI_zU06iVARFMp5cDh6kGkIO-3Kh2ti_ux_EemBIaYAWr6nC50wDlos6L0AncRsbZv3H2Pof9XUwNtZmZx4XUG13UUFXhHKqALDtweDpOM02tCbboplfbcTxXvzWC4YRatsT9DQF4obVT-Ghq=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br />Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-23217369120895835952021-10-17T12:18:00.000-07:002021-10-17T12:18:18.903-07:00#50: Egyptian stela<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYnB0fBZbR3bPhyphenhyphenq838YiB9ipzEkZJOmQ9b5zA03T45d1mRn9MgWt6yG4qIisukAunt7fjBy_kgkhobE7PcwfyA2a8nDOH6todnnPa7INECg7yn8ojrrBiuabaXaBb4LDJJYK93toqg8/s472/stela+small.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="363" data-original-width="472" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYnB0fBZbR3bPhyphenhyphenq838YiB9ipzEkZJOmQ9b5zA03T45d1mRn9MgWt6yG4qIisukAunt7fjBy_kgkhobE7PcwfyA2a8nDOH6todnnPa7INECg7yn8ojrrBiuabaXaBb4LDJJYK93toqg8/s320/stela+small.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"You'll be fine"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>This stela<a name="_GoBack"></a> (commemorative stone tablet)
in Liverpool University’s <a href="https://www.liverpool.ac.uk/garstang-museum/" target="_blank">Garstang Museum</a> caught my eye. Two Egyptian figures lead
a man in Greek dress to the afterlife. I had no idea the Egyptian and Greek
civilisations overlapped. But more than that, the figure from a different
culture, in between those two familiar side-on Egyptians, enlivened the piece
for me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The first Egyptian figure, with the head of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anubis" target="_blank">Anubis</a>, god of
death and the underworld, looks back, grasping the man’s hand reassuringly. The
figure behind seems to encourage him forward, or says goodbye.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure why an alien figure in Greek dress should bring
this to life for me more than it would if it had three Egyptians figures. It
breaks it out of my expectations, I suppose, and makes the figures’ gestures
less a matter of artistic form and more human. The middle figure is somehow my
way in to that tableau. Were I to give it a title, I would call it<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> The Reassurance of the Gods</i>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Can anyone enlighten me as to the Greek-Egyptian mix here?<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-KQFjUyL5DuYq06ODSHWL5Rb6b9hUzoosLzZQfUeHmLSsy23hCb_GulpbHCI5g0cLqu7c4RrzBKCrMDCWgCLrSS1UCOg4Kei4LpbLoXw_vz5PsPoSLBJvQF0gPw_tWsRUUdx3YxxasSo/s2048/stela+best.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-KQFjUyL5DuYq06ODSHWL5Rb6b9hUzoosLzZQfUeHmLSsy23hCb_GulpbHCI5g0cLqu7c4RrzBKCrMDCWgCLrSS1UCOg4Kei4LpbLoXw_vz5PsPoSLBJvQF0gPw_tWsRUUdx3YxxasSo/s320/stela+best.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-80789478379407911052021-08-15T04:20:00.003-07:002023-10-12T00:47:35.986-07:00#49: Listening to literature<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXypxLWzSwSqlBkMxvrRWTiz3idKlZKOHKhyphenhyphenIxjQgm2kaW6DFlSgOBgDKl9KZnMlm9dOexMGIo20u9PY17OUwzqoTMi-zAx68lPYuccSXfV_NfXeukHKesbhWsAz8G-gaA_eyxOe6HgwU/s2048/IMG_1791.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXypxLWzSwSqlBkMxvrRWTiz3idKlZKOHKhyphenhyphenIxjQgm2kaW6DFlSgOBgDKl9KZnMlm9dOexMGIo20u9PY17OUwzqoTMi-zAx68lPYuccSXfV_NfXeukHKesbhWsAz8G-gaA_eyxOe6HgwU/s320/IMG_1791.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Lately I’ve been listening to, rather than reading,
literature, partly because of some eyestrain and partly because of reading
Walter Ong’s 1982 work<a href="https://monoskop.org/images/d/db/Ong_Walter_J_Orality_and_Literacy_2nd_ed.pdf " target="_blank"> <i>Orality and
Literacy</i></a>, in which he recommends ‘liberating our text-bound minds’. He
describes how reading has shaped the human psyche, causing an ‘inward turning’,
enabling ‘strenuous, interiorised, individualised thought’ of a sort ‘inaccessible
to oral folk’.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">In his view literacy has been necessary for consciousness to
evolve and writing has enabled people to reach a greater potential by storing
and passing on knowledge. In addition, writing is now our collective memory,
freeing up our mental capacity to innovate instead of memorise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Sight dissects,
hearing unifies </b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Yet he warns against any devaluing of cultures which are or
were oral, and rejects in particular the term ‘pre-literate’, which in his view
is like defining a horse by saying what it lacks in comparison with a car. He
speaks of thought and experience in oral cultures as ‘empathetic and participative
rather than objective’. He comments that vision tends to a dissecting function,
hearing to a unifying one, saying memorably: ‘sight situates the observer
outside what he views… sound pours into the hearer’. Written text, he says, is
divorced much more easily from the human life-world than speech is.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Listening now<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">But of course we don’t live in a culture wholly based on
writing. Most of what we say is never written down, and despite the popularity
of texting over voicemail (why?) continue to speak and listen. According to Ong
we live in a ‘secondary oral culture’ in which radio and TV are types of ‘literate
orality’. And of course our ways of listening and writing have expanded along
with the types of technology we use, just as the particular characteristics of
reading and listening are blurred. So listening, say, to a podcast can be just
as solitary as writing. And with communication technologies written text can
reach a group of people and be read simultaneously, no longer a solitary act.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So have I liberated my mind, as Ong recommends?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Noticing different
things while listening</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was surprised, listening to Wordsworth’s<i> The Prelude</i> (on the excellent <a href="https://www.scribd.com/home" target="_blank">Scribd </a>app),
how much things I would normally focus on when reading — <a href="https://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/2020/01/40-depth-in-literature.html" target="_blank">line endings</a>,
ambiguities — disappeared. But what came through strongly was the rhythm,
Wordsworth’s iambs, which I would not notice so much on the page. Overall form
came through strongly, especially the overflowing, cascading shape of ‘It Was
an April Morning, Fresh and Clear’ (which I still haven’t read on the page).
Initially this seemed a mass of levels, perceptions, feelings going well with
the movement of water which the poem describes. In ‘Tintern Abbey’ Wordsworth
talks of ‘the language of the sense’ — I wonder if this is the structure of the
sense. Ong speaks of sound ‘pouring into’ the hearer but I would say this is
more like being enveloped, the sound flowing around me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Loss of control</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Along with this reduced time to pause went a loss of
control, and with that a relaxation. Less strenuous, as Ong says. And I do tend
to fall asleep often while listening, not so much while reading. Another aspect
of this loss of control is giving control to someone else’s interpretation and
voice. So a kind of liberation, yes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Other people’s
experiences</b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I was curious about other people’s experiences of reading or
listening, and did a straw poll of some friends (most names changed here).
Jenni, doing a PhD in Shakespeare, said she preferred listening to his plays
even than seeing them:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 49.65pt; margin-right: 47.3pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 47.3pt 10pt 49.65pt;">‘To fully engage with [the text] in radio/CD
performance without the noise of visual clues or stage business is to engage
directly, with only the actors’ intonation to guide you to THAT production’s
interpretation. All the acting must come out of the voice and all the voice has
to work with is the text, the text and nothing but the text.’<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Another friend, June, said she doesn’t like listening, even to audiobooks,
because the actor’s voice distracts her and she starts wondering about the
actor as a person, for example how much work they have. In Ong’s terms, the ‘human
life-world’ of the speaker disrupts the way she wants to enjoy the work.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Robert, a translator, said that he prefers listening because
a health condition makes it difficult for him to read, and since he spends so
much time with written words during his job wants a break.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Peter, who both reads and listens, spoke of storytelling as ‘an
act of service’, even if recorded.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">What’s clear is that
listening and reading is no longer an either/or — they can complement each
other, happen simultaneously or separately. Also people have rich ways and
different reasons for choosing and even thinking about these two modes of
communicating.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89lA1uD1W9I8uKAdPk471jLCG_LWkmx8FfJn9yKEysBqkVunPDrwy6ttFGkL7ziAlq0hKTh1Ggne54DOdUrZ7I28JMgG0tDP1xU1UNBpyUCY7YvGHAbdZF3Xb6OX2xQ0iuLClNpY_hWM/s2048/IMG_1792.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89lA1uD1W9I8uKAdPk471jLCG_LWkmx8FfJn9yKEysBqkVunPDrwy6ttFGkL7ziAlq0hKTh1Ggne54DOdUrZ7I28JMgG0tDP1xU1UNBpyUCY7YvGHAbdZF3Xb6OX2xQ0iuLClNpY_hWM/s320/IMG_1792.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span> <p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-32600718017987163822021-06-23T04:06:00.014-07:002023-10-14T03:49:18.940-07:00#48: Aphorisms<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FMDDX3X7SFhh48-tA3GXRaNyBSxydGTCL53oOZYWFqHHFGEnyKcVUTSb_nOdrqCqlhRg10qpPGZ5w5FjsuKZlGan8_lbqY8xNCxCEQJPhcUry8d_t-bdsqdQUCES0jJDcI2qbuHq-ZQ/s2048/be+careful+with+fears+1.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FMDDX3X7SFhh48-tA3GXRaNyBSxydGTCL53oOZYWFqHHFGEnyKcVUTSb_nOdrqCqlhRg10qpPGZ5w5FjsuKZlGan8_lbqY8xNCxCEQJPhcUry8d_t-bdsqdQUCES0jJDcI2qbuHq-ZQ/s320/be+careful+with+fears+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be careful with fears — they like to steal dreams<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Sugar packets in Spain usually come with an aphorism; here
are two:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Ten cuidado con los miedos<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Les encanta robar sueños</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(be careful with fears — they like to steal dreams)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3opdGrXK7FBturjvi6jMD1yRSxF7QczWFf8qlU1pEflHzIPFBqIKQ85s8K9Un139TBLtap1zAA5_Kw0tEQTttTaJbIyhpXbAsFOivtw3fuUIE2TyCKEUnVqShhPPRBEHOtaornn4ORI/s2048/makes+you+strong.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr3opdGrXK7FBturjvi6jMD1yRSxF7QczWFf8qlU1pEflHzIPFBqIKQ85s8K9Un139TBLtap1zAA5_Kw0tEQTttTaJbIyhpXbAsFOivtw3fuUIE2TyCKEUnVqShhPPRBEHOtaornn4ORI/s320/makes+you+strong.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Quien te lastima hace fuerte,</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><a name="_GoBack"></a>Quien te critica te hace importante,…</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(Those who shame you make you strong, those who criticise
you make you important…)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of these I prefer the first, and in fact have it as a
reminder on my desk. The second seems more questionable to me, though perhaps
it is partly self-fulfilling — if you believe hard experiences make you
stronger they are more likely to.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>The power of aphorisms</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Many of the aphorisms, like these, encourage strength in
adversity. But whatever the advice, I find it a charming custom — it implies
coffee time gives a moment to take stock and energise the spirit as well as the
body. Aphorisms, according to literature professor <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_J._Ong" target="_blank">Walter Ong</a> and others, were
characteristic of oral cultures since they encapsulated the maximum amount of
wisdom in an easily memorisable, concentrated form. They are ‘mnemonically-tooled
grooves’, in Ong’s striking phrase.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>My sugar packet suggestions</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">So what would I put on a packet? I would keep the aphorisms, but add
some packets with hard data which might surprise some — sourced of course. Here are my top three sugar
packet suggestions:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the last 20 years, the proportion of the world population
living in extreme poverty has almost halved. (The World Bank and the United
Nations, via <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Factfulness:_Ten_Reasons_We're_Wrong_About_the_World_%E2%80%93_and_Why_Things_Are_Better_Than_You_Think" target="_blank">Factfulness</a> by Hans Rosling).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Average life expectancy in the world today is 72.81 years.
It has risen every year since at least 1950 and the UN expect it to be almost
80 by 2100. (<a href="https://www.macrotrends.net/countries/WLD/world/life-expectancy#:~:text=1%20The%20current%20life%20expectancy%20for%20World%20in,was%2072.28%20years%2C%20a%200.39%25%20increase%20from%202017." target="_blank">The United Nations</a>)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">and one for those seeking to increase equal opportunities in
the UK: <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In 2020, the percentage of state school pupils getting a
place in UK higher education was: Chinese 71.7; Asian 53.1; Black 47.5; Mixed 39;
White 32.6. (<a href="https://www.ethnicity-facts-figures.service.gov.uk/education-skills-and-training/higher-education/entry-rates-into-higher-education/latest" target="_blank">Universities and Colleges Admissions Service</a>)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYBwXpzWGC_-mppcYJDh2iGeDdcxoV1S1G6cc1RQIq83bDkhyyUkoICS5_2Jt5ScTyd0PX_MXj8nQExEQQrvZrEuhUHnrCUFFbMQitoGt9WH4bc_W9WduOCM8Xz-pYdyFvjqLmfcQuv8/s2048/don%2527t+do+unto+others.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYBwXpzWGC_-mppcYJDh2iGeDdcxoV1S1G6cc1RQIq83bDkhyyUkoICS5_2Jt5ScTyd0PX_MXj8nQExEQQrvZrEuhUHnrCUFFbMQitoGt9WH4bc_W9WduOCM8Xz-pYdyFvjqLmfcQuv8/s320/don%2527t+do+unto+others.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't do to others what you wouldn't like done to you</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Ong quotation comes from Orality and Literacy, p. 35. (second
edition 2002 Routledge).</span><o:p></o:p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-46463113400672663402021-04-04T02:27:00.003-07:002023-10-12T00:48:30.855-07:00#47: Literary heritage<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLB5UcSZ1fNx2ZzK30Ask7XePNaoCYnZb_SrpdlEIZ1yKlHcxUQjLj9Whjkt1GZayYnf-fCT2q32X6pjjW9T4irmfm9-a3cXPAT1qE8H-owqAfCJQkItmWb8WDnzFVBswphRtVeeK7Is/s400/KingArthurKnightsOfTheRoundTable1953.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="249" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLB5UcSZ1fNx2ZzK30Ask7XePNaoCYnZb_SrpdlEIZ1yKlHcxUQjLj9Whjkt1GZayYnf-fCT2q32X6pjjW9T4irmfm9-a3cXPAT1qE8H-owqAfCJQkItmWb8WDnzFVBswphRtVeeK7Is/s320/KingArthurKnightsOfTheRoundTable1953.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal">copyright: Puffin Books By Source, Fair use, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35076834">https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35076834</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Childhood reading and literary inheritance</b><p class="MsoNormal">‘I now know that was the week I stepped into my
inheritance,’ says children’s author Frank Cottrell-Boyce, speaking of first
reading a children’s version of the Greek classics, edited by Roger Lancelyn
Green, while on holiday as a child in Wales. ‘His retellings have stayed with
me and they have become part of the matrix through which I see and think about
the world.’ (<a href="https://www.thereader.org.uk/what-we-do/the-reader-magazine/" target="_blank">The Reader Magazine</a>, issue 71).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Strangely enough, one of my most vivid early reading
memories is of a retelling by Green, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Arthur_and_His_Knights_of_the_Round_Table" target="_blank">King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table</a>, also on holiday as a child, though in a caravan in Suffolk. In that caravan
Merlin brought the child Arthur, wrapped in his cloak, along the cliffs to
England; Sir Gawain married the loathly Lady Ragnell to save the King’s life and
then had to choose whether she would be beautiful by day or by night; and Sir
Galahad leapt up from the Round Table one stormy night, his companions asleep,
to follow the Grail wherever it might lead. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On one of the local holiday walks we would pass a dark
wooded driveway with a metalwork gate bearing the name Greyfriars and a metal
outline of a monk in silhouette, his hooded head bowed over his hands. This
somehow blended in my mind with the realm of Logres described by Green, peopled
by monks, ladies, knights and hermits, so that for all I knew real monks lived
at the end of that driveway.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Why define a literary heritage? </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have never felt the need to define my literary heritage
before, but I do now that much of the literature I love, and the traditions it
comes from, seem to be under attack for being part of a world in which huge
injustices and cruelties were practised (we are still in such a world — does
that invalidate today’s literature?). Or, equally crudely, because some of
these stories were written by people now regarded simplistically as ‘elite’. But
enough negativity.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Is it important to have heritage? </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think so. Why?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Partly confidence and reassurance of stability. When Queen
of Carthage Dido rescues the refugee Aeneas, in Virgil’s<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Aeneid-Oxford-Worlds-Classics/dp/0199537488" target="_blank">Aeneid</a></i>, he and his men are ‘utterly spent by/Every disaster on
land and sea, deprived of everything’, having come from Troy, destroyed by the
Greeks after a 10-year siege. Young and old have been slaughtered and Troy
burnt. She welcomes him: ‘Being acquainted with grief, I am learning to help
the unlucky.’ She offers him a banquet with a service<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of solid silver on the tables; and golden vessels chased<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With the legends of family history — a long lineage of glory<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Traced through many heroes right from its earliest source. (I/640-642)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She is sharing her heritage with him — ‘the legends of
family history’ — along with the food and drink, and you can feel how much
Aeneas needs this reassurance of stability, along with physical comfort. He has
lost confidence in himself and in the worth of his achievements and those of
his country – when he tells Dido the story of the fall of Troy he says not even
a Greek would be able to tell it without crying (II/7).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Why do the Classics form part of a modern British heritage? </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And why should I, along with Virgil and Frank
Cottrell-Boyce, consider stories written 2,500 years ago in a faraway country
(Greece) part of my heritage? Because they have formed an important part of my
subsequent reading, writing and thinking, and are part of the literature,
philosophy, art and architecture I have lived and grown up with (for example, Lancelyn
Green’s <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tale-Troy-Puffin-Classics/dp/0141341963" target="_blank">Tales of Troy </a>was another of my childhood favourites). <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In fact I have lived in both Greece and Italy but would
certainly not regard the Greek and Roman myths as part of my heritage on that
account. I think it is connected with the country, England and later the UK,
where I come from and where the writers I am most familiar with do and did.
It’s also connected with childhood and education. Personal preference and
ability also come into it — there are other parts of Britain’s heritage I don’t
feel so strongly about; for example, the proud tradition of technological
achievement, such as the Bletchley Park code-breaking during World War II and
development of the world’s first programmable electronic computer, the
Colossus. But not being a computer specialist, this doesn’t feel part of my personal
heritage, ‘the matrix through which I see and think about the world’, in the
same way.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Local places </b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For me at least, it is tied up with place in a more
intimate, local way as well. I think I will forever associate King Arthur with
that mysterious shadowy driveway in East Anglia and with the nearby woods (now
diminished through cliff fall, though otherwise marvellously similar to how I
experienced them as a child). And another poem I return to fairly often, the
<a href="https://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/2020/02/41-rubaiyat-of-omar-khayyam.html" target="_blank">Rubaiyat of Omar Kayyam</a>, I would not consider part of my heritage, since it
comes from the Arab world, which does not figure strongly in the English or British
literary tradition. But because it was first translated into English and
popularised in the UK in the 19th century by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_FitzGerald_%28poet%29" target="_blank">Edward Fitzgerald</a>, now buried in
the village of Boulge (coincidentally not so far from our childhood caravan),
in countryside which I love, and where I have heard it recited (in Woodbridge
library), it has added meaning to me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Writing this, I’ve been surprised how much my heritage is
connected with place, both in the sense of country and of localities. I
expected something more free-floating, more in tune with being a world, or at
least a European, citizen. But no. <o:p></o:p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAp3OI4qrUZPbeXp1JJmhC480MwbmNJNV2_6uSN4v8fUNPNRfunlZnE0RBYRFywWjl_i6vJ_U_oMwxkmm4BwyRF9HV9qdhwgL1lOmjV_KfYp3sgaRPHTS_nRIUhVSPgYvYP2ErR9qV-T8/s605/heritage+diagram+small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="605" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAp3OI4qrUZPbeXp1JJmhC480MwbmNJNV2_6uSN4v8fUNPNRfunlZnE0RBYRFywWjl_i6vJ_U_oMwxkmm4BwyRF9HV9qdhwgL1lOmjV_KfYp3sgaRPHTS_nRIUhVSPgYvYP2ErR9qV-T8/s320/heritage+diagram+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal">Basic diagram of influences on my literary heritage — in
reality the different elements overlap<o:p></o:p></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Heritage is part of thinking and feeling</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Heritage is not a package of national achievements to be
accepted or rejected wholesale, and which can be slipped on or slipped off at
will. My literary heritage is part of how I feel, how I think, what I enjoy, how
I see the world Orwell’s (I think) ‘mental furniture’. Traditions are sometimes
tied up with the desire to nation-, culture- and even empire-build, just as in
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aeneid </i>Virgil wanted to bolster
the legitimacy of the Roman Empire at the same time as tell a touching,
thrilling story. But that does not mean they have to be rejected, just
modified, understood and acknowledged in various ways.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Notes and sources</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Virgil,<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Aeneid-Oxford-Worlds-Classics/dp/0199537488" target="_blank"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> The Aeneid</i>,</a>
(OUP’s World’s Classics series, 1986) edited by Cecil Day Lewis in 1952,
introduced by Jasper Griffin.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>King Arthur and His
Knights of the Round Table was <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Arthur-Knights-Round-Puffin-Classics/dp/0141321016" target="_blank">reissued in 2008 </a>with an introduction by David
Almond and a cover like a modern children’s fantasy, but still illustrated with
the same paper silhouette pictures by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lotte_Reiniger" target="_blank">Lotte Reiniger </a>which fascinated me as a
child. While writing this I learned that Reiniger was a groundbreaking German
film animator and director.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Greyfriars turns out to be the childhood home of journalist John Simpson, which I learned after reading part of his <a href="https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/john-simpson/1883" target="_blank">autobiography</a>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m aware I’ve used the words ‘inheritance’ and ‘heritage’ interchangeably,
and that the latter in particular has become a politically loaded word, in the
hands, mouths, leaflets and websites of people with a wide range of political
beliefs. On this score, I agree with this statement from a candidate in the
2021 London Mayoral Election (although I will be voting for another party): ‘Our
modern United Kingdom was born out of the respectful inclusion of so many
individual voices.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">…</i>The people of the
United Kingdom are tired of being told that we represent the very thing we have
in history stood together against. We are all privileged to be the custodians
of our shared heritage.’ (<a href="https://reclaimparty.co.uk/" target="_blank">Laurence Fox, Reclaim Party</a>).<o:p></o:p></p><br />Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-17277061405894518412021-01-09T00:05:00.009-08:002021-01-31T03:09:34.081-08:00#46 Jane Eyre<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOkN4KAgz4SndwcFMmNR6my44vHnpSApAhGMGI-iX85GRNUp48NxI7_hi5dJ848hVRDlwoopdqkUsmGPvhd8zr_BfLh4iPWO9fY1w1iekt-N6lEuIDUuVURp5j7OrDoOfEgLz7TrgJr8/s1024/Jane+and+Rochester.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="683" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHOkN4KAgz4SndwcFMmNR6my44vHnpSApAhGMGI-iX85GRNUp48NxI7_hi5dJ848hVRDlwoopdqkUsmGPvhd8zr_BfLh4iPWO9fY1w1iekt-N6lEuIDUuVURp5j7OrDoOfEgLz7TrgJr8/s320/Jane+and+Rochester.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A scene from Blackeyed Theatre's Jane Eyre, currently available to stream<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Blackeyed
Theatre’s </span><a href="https://blackeyedtheatre.co.uk/shows-2/on-demand/jane-eyre-on-demand/" style="font-size: 15pt;" target="_blank">production of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre</i></a><span style="font-size: 15pt;">,</span><i style="font-size: 15pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i><span style="font-size: 15pt;">wrote a </span><a href="https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/absorbing-and-beautifully-designed-jane-eyre-reviewed" style="font-size: 15pt;" target="_blank">reviewer</a><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> last month, ‘has
rejected the fashionable habit of presenting Jane as a rad-fem freedom fighter
surrounded by grotesque male oppressors’.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">I
should hope so too. I’ve loved the novel ever since I first read it aged 11 or
12, and thankfully it’s never occurred to me to read it as men versus women. If
it had, I would have enjoyed it much less. Such a reading would be part of ‘the steamroller
of our cultural moment’, as blogger Maria Popova <a href="https://www.brainpickings.org/2018/01/01/john-o-donohue-walking-on-the-pastures-of-wonder/" target="_blank">puts it</a>, which levels the
‘beautiful, wild topography of personhood' into variations on identity politics,
demolishing context, dispossessing expression of intention, and flattening
persons into identities’. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Even
an outline of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre</i> shows us that
it is more complex than male oppression of women. It is Aunt Reed who locks
Jane in the terrifying red room and sends her to an orphanage where children
die from disease and semi-starvation. Rochester himself has been cheated and
pressured into a tormenting marriage with Bertha Mason, his first wife. Jane’s cousin St
John Rivers suppresses his natural instinct for love so he can work, single, as
a missionary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>The ‘beautiful, wild topography of personhood’</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">But
enough. This is too easy and is on the same level as the identity politics it
rejects. What about the ‘beautiful, wild topography of personhood’? Where is
that in the novel?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">What
about this, when Rochester, who wants Jane to marry him, is lying to her? He
tells her she must leave his home Thornfield Hall to go to another governess post
in Ireland before his chosen wife, Blanche Ingram, arrives. In doing this he
nudges, even forces her, into a confession of her feeling for him:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘It is a long way off, sir.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘No matter – a girl of your sense will not object to the voyage or
the distance.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Not the voyage, but the distance, and then the sea is a barrier
–‘<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘From what, Jane?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘From England and from Thornfield; and –‘<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Well?’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">‘From <i>you</i>, sir.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0cm; margin-right: 26.05pt; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 26.05pt 10pt 1cm;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">I said this almost involuntarily, and, with as little sanction of
free will, my tears gushed out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Strange
reversal! That it is the moment when Jane loses most of her free will that is
the honest one. And why does Rochester torture her by pretending she has to
leave and by earlier flirting with Blanche Ingram? (Jane asks him this later
and he replies that he wanted to make her jealous, which I don’t think gets to
the heart of it – to me it is more like an angry conformance with what is
conventionally expected of him). And is there not an undercurrent of humour,
not just from Rochester but from Brontë, in her prospective new employer being
‘Mrs Dionysus O’Gall of Bitternut Lodge’?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Jane’s
feeling here turns into a springboard for her declaration to Rochester later in
the conversation that they are equal before God and that ‘I am a free human
being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you.’ It is as
though her involuntary outburst has helped her to progress and use a renewed,
strengthened conception of her own free will which she can look at from the
outside and verbalise. Later Rochester persuades her that he is not joking, and
she consents to marry him. But looking back with her narrator’s omniscience
from the end of the chapter, she says ‘I could not, in those days, see God for
his creature, of whom I had made an idol.’<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">A
wild topography indeed, and most of these strands are not resolved in the
novel, though I love the moment towards the end when Jane is sitting on
Rochester’s knee and shudders and clings closer ‘involuntarily’, without
apology, at the suggestion she should leave him. Her instinctive reaction at
last has a home.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Some
of these strands then – love, passion, frustration, need for religion – and
yes, sexual identity – are here, but as things that change moment by moment not
as, say, a battle between women and patriarchy, or passion and religion, which
would be a caricature of the Victorian era and of our own. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>'The whole hog'</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">So
I would say that approaching a novel – the only type of book which gets ‘the
whole man alive’ <a href="http://www.individual.utoronto.ca/amlit/why_the_novel_matters.htm" target="_blank">according to DH Lawrence</a> – through the lens of identity
politics or with assumptions about the power relations you will find there –
already limits it before you start, as presenting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre </i>as women against men would do. It is breaking down an organic
form into ‘identity-fragments’, as Popova says, which cannot get the whole
person – 'the whole hog', as Lawrence says.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">But
wait – wouldn’t we be missing out if there were no feminist readings of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre</i>? Isn’t it the case that she is
a woman oppressed within a male-dominated society, first at the orphanage run
by the horrible Mr Brocklehurst, then as a penniless governess, one of the very
few professions open to women at the time? Isn’t it a stroke of genius to
interpret Mr Rochester’s first wife Bertha Mason, now mad and living in the Thornfield
attic, in psychological terms as the part of Jane she must shut off in order to
continue her bounded existence?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes,
but I would argue that this broad-brush, less nuanced understanding finds a
better home in politics, even campaigning politics, then in literary study.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Politically, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre</i> might become an illustration or heightened experience
feeding into a campaigning call, for example – and would be very powerful there.
But in my view the generalised assumptions and polarisations of politics
translate poorly into the moment-by-moment life of individuals in which the
novel specialises.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Literature
is already on the other side of politics, and to interpret a novel like<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Jane Eyre</i> in over-generalised political
terms drags it back to a level it has progressed beyond. Literature is about
individuals, and I would argue is primarily descriptive rather than critical or
analytical. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">But
literature pays a price for this. Still thinking. More later, I hope, with
reference to A.S. Byatt, Yeats and Auden.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15pt; line-height: 115%;">Blackeyed
Theatre’s production of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jane Eyre</i> can
be watched <a href="https://blackeyedtheatre.co.uk/shows-2/on-demand/jane-eyre-on-demand/" target="_blank">here</a>.<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLX9SjoOY0kFPQzym9HQ1LuZI0bR41c7JiGoi6PBlXsg1-al8XWzoaQrTWnpVBhD13u_68juUeL55wYufBfTBF5pc1MlhT0Z3qcYFY_VGINIWrM__EUFJxGlc0JeWkVv6i5wIHxyL578/s1024/BE_JaneEyre-7351-1024x683.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLX9SjoOY0kFPQzym9HQ1LuZI0bR41c7JiGoi6PBlXsg1-al8XWzoaQrTWnpVBhD13u_68juUeL55wYufBfTBF5pc1MlhT0Z3qcYFY_VGINIWrM__EUFJxGlc0JeWkVv6i5wIHxyL578/s320/BE_JaneEyre-7351-1024x683.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-71656615283777337962020-11-10T02:03:00.004-08:002020-11-12T08:10:27.616-08:00#45: The Grand Mosque, Córdoba<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB7NfelTggkNaD1kqg5WDIV0FGk8K8pm_n-j7tIswRmIpsAvr4RbbZnWcmDT7MlrwUYchFFCCkiSSvL2qYAjSx8G5VAeCo-fqWRhdRdoHvuhJJ5WgQWfVVntt_AlKyGWNch2au3_D1Uc/s2048/me+at+mosque.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB7NfelTggkNaD1kqg5WDIV0FGk8K8pm_n-j7tIswRmIpsAvr4RbbZnWcmDT7MlrwUYchFFCCkiSSvL2qYAjSx8G5VAeCo-fqWRhdRdoHvuhJJ5WgQWfVVntt_AlKyGWNch2au3_D1Uc/w240-h320/me+at+mosque.JPG" title="At the Grand Mosque October 2020" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQB7NfelTggkNaD1kqg5WDIV0FGk8K8pm_n-j7tIswRmIpsAvr4RbbZnWcmDT7MlrwUYchFFCCkiSSvL2qYAjSx8G5VAeCo-fqWRhdRdoHvuhJJ5WgQWfVVntt_AlKyGWNch2au3_D1Uc/s2048/me+at+mosque.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">At the Grand Mosque October 2020</a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Revisiting the mosque </b></p><p class="MsoNormal">The first time I visited the Grand Mosque in Córdoba, 10
years ago, I was captivated by the generous space inside, divided by corridors of pillars with their famous orange and white double arches. Since
then<a href="http://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/search/label/Grand%20Mosque" target="_blank"> </a><a href="http://objects-ofinterest.blogspot.com/2016/04/7-tissue-box-and-cordobas-grand-mosque.html" target="_blank">I have returned to it often in my mind </a>and it has become a visual metaphor
which has helped me at various times.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Mosque or cathedral?</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">This time, however, I saw it in a different way, noticing
the history and different influences over the centuries which have formed this
building. If there’s anywhere that fits the bill of that now rather bland word
‘contested’, it’s this space. My ticket tells me I’m in a cathedral, and so
does King Juan Carlos on a marble plaque inside, but it’s widely known as the
Grand Mosque.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>The history of the mosque</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">It was originally a mosque, seized in 1236 by Christian
forces. A Catholic nave was inserted in the centre in the 16th century and side
chapels put around the walls. But a plaque in the courtyard says the Grand
Mosque had itself been built on a previous Visigothic Christian site, a sixth
century basilica dedicated to Saint Vincent was whose devotees were ‘dispossessed
of it in the Muslim invasion’. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mosque%E2%80%93Cathedral_of_C%C3%B3rdoba" target="_blank">There is not much archaeological evidence for this</a>, although there is a fragment of a Visigothic building from the site displayed
inside the mosque.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKwO5u5rGxn4xIKvzFQLYFPWI0PJ7KlCia3uKF-k7hnPV5ep7YhjW7lVUHeiYf5jGrkLTa44xK_MEEqxW8uJo1dlQ68j_3Icdrd6x01Cq5aqPYbul2E883vz03d1ZFD_53YLFc-VXsMo/s2048/religious+persecution.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKwO5u5rGxn4xIKvzFQLYFPWI0PJ7KlCia3uKF-k7hnPV5ep7YhjW7lVUHeiYf5jGrkLTa44xK_MEEqxW8uJo1dlQ68j_3Icdrd6x01Cq5aqPYbul2E883vz03d1ZFD_53YLFc-VXsMo/s320/religious+persecution.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">There’s lots of writing inside. On the wall of the nave is a
plaque (above) with a list of priests who were killed for their faith ‘in the religious
persecution of 1936-39’ — eh? Spanish Civil War, surely? Elsewhere are plaster
casts of both Arabic and Spanish names which had been cut into the columns as
graffiti, perhaps by generations of bored worshippers.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Living together</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I hope that this coming together of symbols of two different
religions over time can now be a sign of how people of different religions, or
none, can live together without trying to take vengeance for the injustices of
the past or obliterate evidence of them. So the painting (below) of King Ferdinand receiving
the keys to the city from kneeling vanquished Muslims, crescent moons prominent
on their turbans, I would not remove as an affront to Muslim or postcolonial
sensibilities. I would leave it as important evidence of past events and
attitudes, trusting the present-day public, of whom I am one, to interpret and
understand it according to our now more enlightened views. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWAv0B9bUbctod1VAjSEsxdQPDph1RTvq-2Ig0PelYgpN1ONwx2bIedFMUZzrV2dKy0E8FRZtoCB2c-rvUFvM8mL1fZkKIlyhwWqSg3qccPBWELxL2iX0uoq3BqBd9xQ93E2fdc1GCvY/s2048/Ferdinand+and+the+Moors.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWAv0B9bUbctod1VAjSEsxdQPDph1RTvq-2Ig0PelYgpN1ONwx2bIedFMUZzrV2dKy0E8FRZtoCB2c-rvUFvM8mL1fZkKIlyhwWqSg3qccPBWELxL2iX0uoq3BqBd9xQ93E2fdc1GCvY/s320/Ferdinand+and+the+Moors.JPG" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Reinterpretation not destruction</b></p><p class="MsoNormal">So I am against tearing down monuments, even to events we
now regard as oppressive and unpleasant or worse. They are evidence of various
degrees of conflict, achievement and plain everyday living together. I would
reinterpret statues, not reanimate the conflicts they may represent. In other
words look forward, not back.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8xjWlCYrj55PIHKFYrKK3_Eu8OtGfOdlhvbBy8D7BCI2Jb8N3CKA8o8sbtVT0M1UjrjL0mc8FA1Bljerf_S1AL-0SiSCRVsL5_fk9XfbKSZBvfKfsBLp6ELL5IVYRrVqcRSE4QU4uJI/s2048/King%2527s+declaration.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8xjWlCYrj55PIHKFYrKK3_Eu8OtGfOdlhvbBy8D7BCI2Jb8N3CKA8o8sbtVT0M1UjrjL0mc8FA1Bljerf_S1AL-0SiSCRVsL5_fk9XfbKSZBvfKfsBLp6ELL5IVYRrVqcRSE4QU4uJI/s320/King%2527s+declaration.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">‘An embrace of the communities of the world’, in the words of King Juan Carlos (now abdicated and being <a href="https://www.theolivepress.es/spain-news/2020/11/04/former-spanish-king-juan-carlos-faces-further-corruption-charges/" target="_blank">investigated for corruption</a>).</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-42161064191442941142020-08-16T05:09:00.009-07:002023-01-01T02:01:12.320-08:00#44: Slow fashion<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLgRJrWSM0oNf7IDEycBNaIp2MjQlaJd5zLcKNDp-2u58wxLr3y4Wsk_Gsubtm_rOdP-iCW2_7ILhXM1ENAEuYAzPPcI-sokDaUyqzmHypPi59e7VkPMzb-86kFLpSRcE-ddlkHtcxu4/s640/photo+of+clothes.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOLgRJrWSM0oNf7IDEycBNaIp2MjQlaJd5zLcKNDp-2u58wxLr3y4Wsk_Gsubtm_rOdP-iCW2_7ILhXM1ENAEuYAzPPcI-sokDaUyqzmHypPi59e7VkPMzb-86kFLpSRcE-ddlkHtcxu4/w307-h410/photo+of+clothes.JPG" width="307" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b> The price of fast fashion</b><p class="MsoNormal">I came back with a good haul from a local charity shop
recently – a pair of jeans, a dress and two books (above) for less than the price of a
one-way bus ticket to the nearest shopping mall. But I confess I had also
visited that shopping mall a week earlier and came back with three Primark
T-shirts, made in Bangladesh. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fashion is apparently one of the most environmentally
damaging industries; according to <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43671670-fashionopolis" target="_blank">Fashionopolis </a>by Dana Thomas, every year 80 billion new garments are made and 2.1 billion tonnes of clothes are thrown away.
<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lauren Bravo’s ‘<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/How-Break-Fast-Fashion-guilt-free/dp/1472267745/ref=pd_lpo_14_t_0/262-9508427-1577605?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_i=1472267745&pd_rd_r=bc200747-aec6-4db8-bba2-63c33e256f18&pd_rd_w=CIOKB&pd_rd_wg=YsCEp&pf_rd_p=7b8e3b03-1439-4489-abd4-4a138cf4eca6&pf_rd_r=WK6M1SJAC01DKG0344QY&psc=1&refRID=WK6M1SJAC01DKG0344QY" target="_blank">How to Break Up With Fast Fashion</a>’ recommends
repairing, recycling and holding your head up high as you go into the local
high street Mind or Oxfam. She highlights exploitation in the worldwide fashion
chain exposed by disasters such as the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2013_Dhaka_garment_factory_collapse" target="_blank">Rana Plaza garment factory collapse </a>in
Bangladesh in 2013, in which 1,134 people died. Cracks in the building had
appeared the day before but workers were told they would lose a month’s salary
if they did not go back to work next day. According to Wikipedia, wages were about
£25 a month.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This started as a light-hearted blog post about how to do
charity shop clothes shopping. But I’ve been so horrified by learning about the
exploitation involved in the fast fashion industry, that I’ll try ‘<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slow_fashion" target="_blank">slow fashion</a>’
for a year. No Zara or Primark, or clothes made in Bangladesh, China, Vietnam
or India. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I include charity shops in slow fashion because clothes are
being kept out of landfill, and there is a bit of added ethical value in the
form of charity income.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Meanwhile, here are my tips for charity shopping:</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst">1. Don’t go for something specific. If
you’re looking for just the right pair of jeans, or loose shirt, or hat, forget
it. Grab what you like when you see it. It might be an overcoat in summer, or a
formal shirt when he might never give another presentation. But if that shirt
skims your waist or makes you walk tall, snap it up.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">2. Check weak spots. Armpits and collars.
I’ve even been known to give clothes a quick sniff.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">3. Feel noble. Remember, you’re not a
cheapskate. You are environmentally and politically conscious.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">4. Haggling. Mmmm. I’ve been on the verge
of it sometimes (especially after finding a sailor T-shirt in Farnham Mind for
£4 (‘new’, said the label) which turned out to cost only £5 in the local
Sainsbury’s. Still, it feels a bit dishonourable.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">5. I’m not sure that neighbourhoods matter.
South Kensington Oxfam did give me a shirt I’m still wearing for interviews
five years later, but it’s only M&S. And in Palmers Green, probably only
average on the yummy mummy scale, I found a 60-style denim suede miniskirt in
Leonard Cheshire I don’t think I’d have found anywhere else.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">6. Don’t be a snob. There’s no reason why
charity shops can’t give you as much as the most arid shopping mall, for 1/10
of the price.<o:p></o:p></p><p></p>Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-45646413665249928512020-05-03T10:13:00.012-07:002023-10-14T03:51:46.185-07:00#43: Cake<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-kkcPuhjyGE6osKarw9LLxRvcG1GeQ7AXljTVQL37-kxYunwZYEv5vlHW1kcO9zOqC1e3O6CvZIYPE9V7ijgVdVXHw48XaG3Emzs-FByitRPGgEq_8MqUxa7JH0Av6i2079fA_fkEwE/s1600/almond+cake.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-kkcPuhjyGE6osKarw9LLxRvcG1GeQ7AXljTVQL37-kxYunwZYEv5vlHW1kcO9zOqC1e3O6CvZIYPE9V7ijgVdVXHw48XaG3Emzs-FByitRPGgEq_8MqUxa7JH0Av6i2079fA_fkEwE/s320/almond+cake.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The height of indulgence</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The peculiar appeal of cake</b></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I wonder if cakes were originally a way of preserving and
packing high-calorie food like fat, sugar and dried fruit together to see us
through the winter, and have since become an afternoon treat and sign of
hospitality. In Jane Austen’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emma_(novel)" target="_blank">Emma</a>
the heroine’s father denies their guests Mrs Goddard and Miss Bates rich food
because of his concern for the digestion, so she makes ‘the two ladies all the
amends in her power, by helping them to large slices of cake and full glasses
of wine, for whatever unwilling self-denial his care of their constitution
might have obliged them to practise during the meal.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Cake also goes naturally with museum and gallery trips, at
once a delightful symbol of afternoon leisure and a calorific compensation for
the peculiar tiredness induced by the stop-start museum wander.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Cakes without flour, sugar and butter?</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I shouldn’t really eat traditional cake, since I’m trying to
follow a paleo or caveman diet, which excludes flour, sugar and butter. The
cakes I most miss are scones – the rough dense texture of the scone, the smooth
blandness of the cream and a shot of sugary jam on top. Also Eccles cakes –
clumped currants in an irregular crumbly puff pastry case. ‘O my buttons!’ As
Tom Tulliver says in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mill_on_the_Floss" target="_blank">The Mill on the Floss</a> on learning that there is apricot roll-up for tea.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>My current/currant favourite cake recipes</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">So I was pleased to come across some paleo cake recipes on <span id="goog_537211058"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/">Elana’s Pantry<span id="goog_537211059"></span></a>. These use coconut or almond flour, and honey instead
of sugar. My two favourites at the moment are <a href="https://elanaspantry.com/nut-free-paleo-carrot-cake/" target="_blank">carrot cake</a> and <a href="https://elanaspantry.com/nut-free-paleo-carrot-cake/" target="_blank">chocolate cake</a>.
They have a slightly different consistency – not as crumbly – but are just as light
and delicious.</span><br />
<br />
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UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">quote from <i>Emma </i>by Jane Austen (Penguin, 1985),
p.223</span> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6743881761292140356.post-69457706059992094042020-03-14T03:56:00.000-07:002020-05-03T09:57:03.326-07:00#42: Silas Marner<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEPlfpAF6m5RWG6hghSvznBfYTE-9s4ryKGc9txCZ0ToWQz4-6_T7uHVpg9hrQ4JmWaic6XZT0YXEzgzRvh5zUA3sxKtLpOp7b680qflijq9AgLUQVfS1bbMjz3c97o6kUwL2YpNAYB0/s1600/book+cover+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEPlfpAF6m5RWG6hghSvznBfYTE-9s4ryKGc9txCZ0ToWQz4-6_T7uHVpg9hrQ4JmWaic6XZT0YXEzgzRvh5zUA3sxKtLpOp7b680qflijq9AgLUQVfS1bbMjz3c97o6kUwL2YpNAYB0/s320/book+cover+photo.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Simon Schuster</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<br />
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<b>The weaver of Raveloe</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I've been listening to <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54539.Silas_Marner" target="_blank">Silas Marner</a>, George Eliot's novel
about a man, a weaver by trade, who after being unfairly cast out of a
religious community comes to live in the town of Raveloe. There he finds
stability but his life shrinks to two things – his work, and the money he makes
from it.</div>
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His unceasing close work at the loom disfigures him so that
he becomes short-sighted, with bulging eyes, and 'can see no more than insect',
as one of the villagers says. His body shrinks and, says Eliot in Chapter 2, he
is like an appendage or handle, an adjunct to his work, incomplete.</div>
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From time to time he takes his gold out from its hiding
place under the floor to admire it, count it and touch it. And yet 'Master
Marner' is not really a miser, as he is judged by some of his fellow villagers.
He doesn't seem to think of the money in financial terms at all. Rather, in the
absence of other objects, his human desires have become focused narrowly on
these things. And this is a two-way process:</div>
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<b>He had clung with all the force of his nature to his
work and his money. And like all objects to which a man devotes himself, they
had fashioned him into correspondence with themselves. (Chapter 5).</b></div>
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The 'objects' people devote themselves to can be aims, as well as a solid objects like Silas's gold. And the 'correspondences' they forge with us are corresponding shapes, like Silas's body, but also the process of corresponding with them.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj395-prg-09f5jZv4g-rmhwVj8QvXByGOfZ6sDCr-r84hC4ix_nWrtDY0f6x72CDPwOwlrT8X4fgxgkoJyoDbc8wlNh7_exuy_g9F66zTePr0Gnw92Ol3BvSxLQ80rU5mgF-_jTxsAsck/s1600/vibhuti-gupta-X_2IusEIKwM-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj395-prg-09f5jZv4g-rmhwVj8QvXByGOfZ6sDCr-r84hC4ix_nWrtDY0f6x72CDPwOwlrT8X4fgxgkoJyoDbc8wlNh7_exuy_g9F66zTePr0Gnw92Ol3BvSxLQ80rU5mgF-_jTxsAsck/s320/vibhuti-gupta-X_2IusEIKwM-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Photo
by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@vbgupta2310?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText"><span style="color: windowtext;">Vibhuti Gupta </span></a>on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/weaving-loom?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText"><span style="color: windowtext;">Unsplash</span></a></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Looms and computers </b></div>
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<br /></div>
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This passage also made me think of our looms – computers. It
reminded me yet again of my long-term reservations about the demands that a
sitting, sedentary life, makes on health. At a computer most parts of the body
do not move, while some (the eyes, arms and hands) move unnaturally quickly –
just like the weaver's. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Do all of us have such reservations about work, and the way
it may 'fashion' us – affect our bodies, thoughts and feelings? Reading
LinkedIn or other social media platforms, with their unceasing hyperbole about
job fulfilment and success, you would not think so.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The cure for narrowed vision</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Silas's cure comes in the shape of Eppie, a child who finds
her way to his hearth and heart, also an 'object' but one 'compacted of changes
and hopes' that:</div>
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<b>forced his thoughts outward and carried them far
away from the old eager pacing toward the same blank limit, carried them away
to the new things that would come with the coming years, when Eppie would have
learnt to understand how her father Silas cared for her, and made him look for
images of that time in the ties and charities that bound together the families
of his neighbours. (Chapter 14)</b></div>
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Silas's perspective changes
here – he becomes 'her father Silas', viewing himself in a different role – a
wider perspective in which he naturally sees himself from the outside in relation to someone
else, his adopted daughter. And this also makes him look to the Raveloe
community.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We may not have the luxury of
stepping away from our looms but, Victorian-style, I would take some lessons
from this writing. One is simply to look after my body. As a freelancer, I am
responsible for my own health and safety – so I think it's time to gather together all my notes-to-self about taking breaks and sitting properly, and make a proper health and safety checklist.
The other would be to try to keep a wider perspective, to try to find 'objects'
to focus on which make claims on my affections and help me to connect with others.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoXDRPxHLZngJl5gchx5H-H894UoBgCr_B1Tjni2-U-vgz2I0cuBq3xQ1vChTjA2OC8VVvxXku-64ZiPLB_xLhafiEzDsvsaGFfUudiN0dAfgJaNGvOCU048WsIyqEosoQNCRPmorGJ4/s1600/man+at+computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoXDRPxHLZngJl5gchx5H-H894UoBgCr_B1Tjni2-U-vgz2I0cuBq3xQ1vChTjA2OC8VVvxXku-64ZiPLB_xLhafiEzDsvsaGFfUudiN0dAfgJaNGvOCU048WsIyqEosoQNCRPmorGJ4/s320/man+at+computer.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Photo
by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@weareprocreator?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText"><span style="color: blue;">Procreator UX Design Studio</span></a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/t/business-work?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText"><span style="color: blue;">Unsplash</span></a></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
Rebecca Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08891359094476023032noreply@blogger.com2