Leicester Guildhall

Leicester Guildhall - the information boards suggest that the hall was used in Tudor times for performances by travelling players.  The Earl of Leicester's men would have performed there. Shakespeare may well have performed there.

Elizabeth Jane Howard, obit 2nd January 2014

I cried when I read the obituary of Elizabeth Jane Howard in The Times this morning.  That doesn't happen often.

I love her books. I have read all the Cazalet Chronicles except the most recent, which was published last year, and is entitled" All Change".  I have ear-marked the latter as a book group choice for later in 2014.

I remember reading "The Long View" as a young woman, before I was married, and being terrified by the sinister portrait of a mentally cruel husband.  It was so scary that I dared not re-read it, even after I found out that the man was closely modelled on EJH's first husband, Peter Scott, only son of Robert Falcon Scott, the Antarctic explorer.  (Robert Falcon Scott became a book pash of mine in 2012, the anniversary of his death).

EJ had a fascinating life, three husbands, (the last of them Kinglsey Amis, who comes across as even less likeable).  She wrote characters from her life into many of her books, and was an astute observer of social change from the 1920's to the 1980's.

Her Cazalet novels are so easy to read, and so redolent of the inter-war period in which EJH grew up.  (My knowledge of this period comes from the verbal reminiscences and ramblings of both my parents, who were in their hey-day at the same time.  My mother was a year younger than EJH).

Her only daughter, Nicola was born in an air-raid. Her autobiography details some of the hardships she encountered but her strength and determination is everywhere evident. She had remarkable energy - her last novel was published in her 90th year.

Her beautiful writing style will be much missed by readers like me, who love a good family saga, page-turning and easy to read, with a wealth of social and historical detail.

Her near contemporary, Nobel prize-winning Doris Lessing died late last year.  Doris's work had a black side to it, a very dry, cutting and critical view of society.  I liked her little, although I felt I had to read most of her ouvre.

EJ was warmer, more engaging, her books a pleasure to read.  Few are left now who lived through the Second World War.  For fifties children like myself, indelibly marked by its impact on our parents, EJ's voice was instructive and fascinating.  It is sad that this voice is now silent.

Booker Styles, The Long and the Short of It

This year's Booker prizewinner, "The Luminaries", by Eleanor Catton, made history as being the longest yet, at 832 pages.  It also made headlines because she is, at 28,  the youngest author ever to win the prize.

It is indeed a weighty tome. I got it out of the library to preview, as one of the members of the book-group I have just joined was threatening, (others protested vehemently), to select it as book choice for her next turn.

Oh, the wordiness of it!  At a creative writing group I've joined, we are told to "Show Not Tell".  E. Catton persists in lengthy boring descriptions, both of the characters' external visage and their interior psychology.  We are supposed to show the latter by dialogue.  The former, as in Jane Austen, is supposed to be inferred by the reactions of others.  Here's an example of the verbosity, not to say pomposity, of the language.  (I've researched copyright, and a quote for illustrative purposes is all right if it is short in proportion to the length of the work as a whole.  My selection fits that measure).

"Balfour's will was too strong to admit philosophy, unless it was of the soundest empirical sort; his liberality could make no sense of despair, which was to him as a fathomless shaft, possessed of depth but not of breadth, stifled in its isolation, navigable only by touch, and starved of any kind of any curiosity."

A further three sentences of about the same length and density, continue the paragraph, which basically adds zilch, tiddly squat, to my mental picture of Balfour.  This is on page 32.  You are supposed to carry on for another 800 pages.  Life is too short.


Now compare a sentence from a book by Penelope Fitzgerald.  A friend, anticipating the new biography of this author (by Hermione Lee if anyone is interested), lent me a book by PF.  Fitzgerald won the Booker prize in 1979 with "Offshore".  Amazon reviewers praise this winner for being brief, incisive, elegant, if a little too short.   The book my friend passed on to me was called "The Bookshop", (a subject guaranteed to attract my interest). It was published in 1978 and made the Booker Prize final list.  It is a short book, subtle and sharp.

"The Bookshop", elegantly written but leaving ultimately a very sad after-taste, is set in coastal Suffolk.  A woman opens a bookshop.  Here is  a sample sentence.   "She was held back by an urgent hand, and addressed by a man, not young, in a corduroy jacket, smiling as a toad does, because it has no other expression."

I have time to read another book by this author!

Book Groups (Dilemma Resolved)

I have now joined a book group.  Watch this space for more details.  Now I will have to read books chosen by other people, as well as following my fancy.  I think it will be good for me.

More About Wolf Hall

Recently, Hilary Mantel was the guest on Radio 4's Book Club.  Book Club is a lovely Sunday afternoon treat, ideal for those replete and resting off a large Sunday lunch indoors on a winter day, perhaps while ironing.  Jim Naughty (pronounced Knockerty, for any foreign readers visiting here), was the interviewer.  He kicked off with the question, "What inspired you to write "Wolf Hall"? 

Hilary, bless her, answered, in her tremulous, slightly squeaky voice, that she had been visiting an Elizabethan house.  It was the home, and was first built by, one of the protégés of Thomas Cromwell, by the name of Ralph, or Rafe Sadler (or Sadleir - Tudor spellings vary).  Ralph is a historic, real-life character in "Wolf Hall" and "Bring up the Bodies".  He did well for himself, learning much from his mentor Cromwell, who in his turn had learnt much from his own mentor, Cardinal Wolsey.  Ralph built the house when he moved out from the Cromwell multi-generation and multi-occupancy household, to what was then a small country village three miles east of London.

Hilary said that she was so overcome by the Tudor brickwork, tiled floors, wood panelling and cracks in the plaster, that she burst into tears, and immediately started imagining her Tudor stories.

"And," she wound up, triumphantly, "It's still there!"

As soon as the programme ended, I looked the house up in the National Trust handbook.  As I suspected, it is a NT house, and open to the public all the year round.  Quickly, I arranged a meeting with my friend of longstanding, who shares just about all my interests, and we went down to London on Saturday to visit Sutton House, NT, Hackney.

It was pouring with rain, and we struggled along the High Street, deafened by traffic and police sirens.  Hackney is now an uber-urban environment.  We were disappointed that the café inside offered only one type of cake, and we were tired.

Unfortunately, beautiful though Sutton House undoubtedly is, we just could not access the atmosphere which had enchanted Hilary Mantel.  However, don't let that put you off.  It is well worth a visit if you are at all interested in the novels.

Nursery Rhymes

I've discovered a lovely new cake and baking blog.  See below.

http://gingerbreadlad.blogspot.co.uk/

 I found this via the blog of a reading and writing site, The Arvon Foundation.

As with another of my favourites, the Caked Crusader , the writing and the pictures are superb, and I totally trust the recipes. (I seldom make cakes these days, but the ones I have made from CC's blog have received universal praise and approval).

I haven't yet tried anything from GBL, but found his post on Yorkshire Curd Tart fascinating because it tells you how to make your own curds. 

As follows:

Make the curds by gently heating the milk, and once it reaches a steady boil add the lemon juice. Turn down the heat and watch the curds form, you can gently stir to help steady it along. Once you have lumps floating in liquid take off the heat and leave to cool. Drain the liquid (which is the whey) through a tea towel over a container so that you catch the curds in the tea towel and can keep the whey. Allow to strain in the fridge over night.


This is useful, because I have, on the few occasions when I have bought curd cheese, been disappointed with the results.

It is also interesting because it brings a new perspective on the old nursery rhyme, Little Miss Muffet.  (Who, it will be remembered, sat on a tuffet, "eating her curds and whey").

While on the subject of Nursery Rhymes, I had sudden insight moment this morning. 

I have been up since 5.30 am, and done washing, drying, ironing, stripping and remaking bed, plus emptying bins and sorting all recycling, all before 8.00 am.


I know who the elves were, in "The Elves and the Shoemaker".  It was the shoemaker's wife or his mum,  of course.  Who did all the work before the shoemaker got up.

Can We Talk About Book Groups

Since my almost complete retirement from work (I continue to work two mornings a week), I find I need to get out more and talk to people during the day.  My long hours of poring over books, while completely gratifying and absorbing, do leave me somewhat isolated. 

Should I join a book group?

I talked to two friends of similar age and background about this subject.

One has been in a book group for several years, but often complains about the poor choices of the other members. 

"I do find it a pain, to read some of the books," she said.  ""And sometimes I feel that they feel the same about my choice of book.  I feel a bit paranoid about that."

My other friend is not in a book group, but told me that she imagined that it would be a bore having to read other people's choices.  Much the same response, in fact, although envisaged rather than experienced.

My second friend (who has a degree in English Literature), also said that she worried that she would take too highbrow an approach, and that this might be a problem if she wanted to bond with other members. 

I agreed that it might, and thought that possibly it could be resolved by saying as little as possible.

The obvious consequence of that tactic would be to negate the purpose of joining the group!  ie to talk about books with other book addicts.

What do other people think about book groups?