Burnt Norton, the first of Four Quartets by T S Eliot

I still have my copy of the Collected Poems of TS Eliot, bought whilst studying English Literature  years ago.  I needed it last week.  You will see why.

Elder daughter and I were spending a few days' quality time together.  We went for a walk.  Normally, we have her Dad with us, and we just follow him blindly, chatting away effortlessly while he holds the map and navigates.

This time we had to work it out for ourselves.  We got lost.  We passed the most beautiful house, set in the middle of nowhere.  High up overlooking a beautiful view, lovely 17th century proportions.  Golden Cotswold stone.

I wondered what the name of the house could be, thinking that perhaps we could then identify it on our map.  Gazing about, I noticed a figure emerging from behind a hedgerow.

This was the helpful head groundsman, who told us we were trespassing.  He also told us the name of the house - "Burnt Norton".  Of course I asked if it was connected to the poem by TS Eliot, and he confirmed that it was, and that Eliot had also been trespassing when he roamed around the garden and found some dry ponds which appear in the first section of the poem.

It was rather exciting to feel that we were following in the footsteps, quite literally, of one of the most famous writers of the 20th century.

Now my experience of TS Eliot whilst a student was mixed.  I found some of it amusing and easy to remember .

"The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock", for example, still springs to mind from time to time when one is eating a peach, or feeling one's age ("I grow old,  I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled...").

"The Waste Land" is harder, but stuffed like a plum pudding full of quotations which other authors have purloined for their later work.  ("The Grass is Singing" to name but one).

I remember thinking how difficult the Four Quartets were, and I feel no different now.  Inaccessible, repetitive in beat, emotion and thought process, and depressing.

But I am glad I have the book, and could look up the reference to the dry pools the gardener told us about.  Here it is:

"So we moved ....
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool".

The gardener gave us permission to go and look into the drained pools likewise, but we felt that we had pushed our luck in trespassing quite enough already, and progressed on our way instead.

Postscript

I have since had much the same experience with another of the Four Quartets, Little Gidding. Happened upon the location, and to my immense surprise, found that the poem was written about an actual place, just as the above poem, Burnt Norton, describes an actual place.  

It does make the poems, previously almost as impenetrable as the Rosetta Stone, more real. Eery and haunting to tread in the actual footsteps of the poet, to see features of the landscape that inspired his deep thought.

Running Out of Time - the Advice of Marcus Aurelius

There just doesn't seem to be enough time, and what there is, redefines itself with an elastic stretch and contraction according to how much one has to do.

When did I ever find time to see friends, write blog posts, and enjoy relaxation, when I had two jobs?

One of them has come to an end.  You would have thought that I would be feeling great.  (Well, aside from the humiliation, the anger and the loss of income stream, that is).


Thinking that I would have all the time I need to take up a creative hobby, or work towards a goal, instead I find that I am wasting most of it.

I take longer to eat my breakfast, do the washing, read the paper.  I now watch more than one hour of television a week (my previous allocation).  I am doing all the cooking, instead of only half of it.

This is no good.  I must get on with something.  Otherwise, what will I have to show for the extra three days a week now at my disposal?

Searching amongst the Ordinance Survey Maps in the bookcase, I came upon my ancient copy of "The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius".  (Roman Emperor from 161 to 180 AD) .  The inscription on the flyleaf merely states "1917".  It is nearly one hundred years old.

Did this book accompany anyone into the trenches, I wonder?  This Emperor looked too good to be true, a soldier and  philosopher king - did he have the recipe for peace and the end to all wars?

Sadly not.  He was called upon to attend to war, and died after winning a victory.

However, he has this piece of advice:

"Wander at random no longer.  Alas! you have no time to peruse your diary, to read over Greek and Roman hisory, or so much as your own commonplace book, which you collected to serve you when you were old."  [Note to self - could this be an early version of a blog?]

"Hasten then towards the goal."

On Top Of the World

So at last we had a full week of holiday, the first hubby has had in 12 months.  Both our darling daughters came with us for part of the time.  As one is soon to go to Brussels for a year and the other to a ski season in France for a season, this could well be the last time we are all together until next summer.

We went up Mount Snowdon on the miniature steam railway, and this is what we saw at the top.   We were really on top of the world.

And So To Windsor and the Knights of the Garter

Taking with us the afore-mentioned book by the  ex-King, HRH the Duke of Windsor, KG, in order to look up references in the extensive index.  We were both fascinated to learn, in the great hall of St George, of the derivation of the Knights of the Garter, (KG).  Only in the mid-twentieth century was anyone not a Duke, Earl or Lord, or King of a foriegn land, designated with this honour. 

Round the walls of the hall are wooden panels, each listing, in numerical order, the name of every one of the  Knights since Edward III created the order in the distant past.  Each has his number. We have just reached the thousands, and I wanted to see who had the magic number 1,000.  It was Prince William, in 2008.  How lovely. We both think the world of the handsome prince.

As far as I could see, Stanley Baldwin was the first of common blood to be named KG.  Could it be a coincidence that he was also the Prime Minister who firmly blocked every avenue but abdication from the haplessly besotted Edward VIII? The designation is in the gift of the Sovereign. 

I had picked up from the book that the two brothers were very close, particularly in boyhood.  The popular story is that it was Elizabeth, the late Queen Mother, wife of younger brother George (who became George VI on the abdication), who put the boot in for the Windsors and spoiled any chance of reconciliation. Who knows. 

Anyway, it was interesting to note how no-one except Montgomery of Alamein and a handful of Conservative Prime Ministers (among them Margaret Thatcher) had made it on to the list.  We both found it amusing to note that Tony Blair has not been honoured, nor Gordon Brown.

I remarked ruefully that it was far too late in life now to make it my ambition to be honoured with the title of Knight of the Garter.

Later, we walked over the river to Eton.  I spotted an Age Concern shop, and acquired my eighth small teapot of the year, this one being a striking 1950's design in black and white.  It cost £1.  Hubby spotted a Gary Rhodes cookbook for £2.50 and bought it.  This is an amazing breakthrough - getting my husband into a charity shop at all, and then him actually buying a book!

"A King's Story", by HRH the Duke of Windsor

A Book for Every Occasion - that's me.  This year, I've followed all the big celebrations. 

The 100th Anniversary of the death of Scott in the Antarctic - I own a dozen books on this subject, the latest being the newest, published late last year in time for the Xmas market:  "The Last Photographs of Captain Scott", a Christmas gift from elder daughter.  The author is David Wilson,  great-nephew of Edward Wilson, Scott's close friend and fellow explorer.  So poignant.

The 200th Anniversary of the birth of Charles Dickens - yes, I own most of the novels, and the latest biography, "Charles Dickens, A Life", by Claire Tomalin.  Again a timely publication ready for this anniversary.

I've been to two Dickens exhibitions and two Scott of the Antarctic exhibitions.

Then it was the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.  Never one to do things by halves, I bought six Jubilee mugs and two Jubilee tea caddies.  I've also been to Sandringham twice and last week, (courtesy of darling elder daughter once more), to Buckingham Palace.  Darling daughter is an actuary and earns more than her father, although only 27.  She has bucked the trend of the Generation Y-ers as being lamented in the press this week and last.  She presented us with vouchers for Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle as Christmas presents.  Windsor coming up.

So I dug out my maroon-coloured dog-eared hardback, "A King's Story" by the late Duke of Windsor.  The book is dedicated  "To Wallis", but the late Duchess doesn't appear much.  When the book was written in 1950, it would have been highly inappropriate to detail the progression of the relationship from initial meeting to sexual obsession.

What is really interesting is the first two-thirds of the book, where we are given an intimate insider's view of life growing up in the Royal Family.  Having been to Sandringham, it was lovely to read of the author's childhood spent largely in that rural residence, whilst waiting for his father, George V, to inherit the crown and thus move to Buckingham Palace.

Another fascinating insight is the royal protocols and fancy dress parades, which really don't seem to have changed at all since Queen Victoria's time.  Not that I'm complaining, mind you.  I see absolutely nothing wrong with spending some of the nation's cash on things which will entertain and bring a smile and a diversion to our boring mundane lives.

Which brings me to the Olympics.  Marvellous spectacle, and didn't we do well!  A big hand for Great Britain, and let's hope that now we can stop being so miserable all the time, stop downplaying our achievements and instead celebrate our strengths.  The organisation was absolutely impeccable, and that alone is a skill we should be marketing around the world.  I haven't seen any books about the Olympics yet, but will keep a look out. Bradley Wiggins is due to bring a book out in October, I believe).

So, there is only one more anniversary this year that I am aware of.  This will be the 100th anniversary of the death of Emma Hardy, the first wife of Thomas.  As she inspired many of his greatest poems, I hope that we will be treated to some celebration of her otherwise quiet and unremarkable life.

Am keeping a look out.

Where to start

So, we went on holiday to the Peak District to a rented cottage.  I already knew that everyone else would be leaving on Tuesday evening, because they all needed to attend to work issues.  Two daughters could not spare any more holiday (obviously, they need to go on holiday with people their own age and we are just so lucky they want to come with us at all).  Hubby, who already cancelled our ten days in the Western Isles booked earlier in the year due to a work crisis, could only spare two days, Monday and Tuesday.

So what was my surprise, when younger daughter (25) announced during one of our five-mile walks: "Dad and I are going to go to New York for a week in November." 

I began to get a small inkling of what it must feel like if your husband has a mistress.  To be the less preferred person.  The other is the one he will make time for no matter what.

So we will have two daughters abroad next year

Elder daughter working in Brussels for a year, younger daughter working in the French Alps as a ski chalet girl for six months.

This weekend, we will be staying in a cottage in Derbyshire for four days.  This will be our last time all together as a family until younger daughter comes back from her ski-season.  She is not allowed home for Christmas (obviously!)

I am sad, but happy we will all be together for a few days,