Other people's thoughts

Once upon a time, people blogged in an entirely different format. This was called 'writing a diary' and is a custom that seems to have, almost entirely, died out.

Unlike those of us who choose to expose our thoughts to the censure of the world almost immediately after they have popped into our heads, these diarists wrote (mostly) for themselves and to remind themselves of their daily lives. Only occasionally did they have an eye on posterity.

So, with my interest in blogs, it is fairly safe to assume that I like diaries too - yet I very rarely read them. There's so many mundane musings to trawl through until you get to the entries that really capture the interest. What's needed is an anthology of the creme de la creme. And, thankfully, someone at Canongate books has obliged.

'The Assassin's Cloak' is an anthology of the world's greatest diarists. Split out into the days of year, each date has a handful of entries from writers that range from the likes of Peyps and Alan Bennett, to Peter Hall and Fanny Kemble. It is a rich store of life and offers some very different perspectives on the passing years.

Take today's date, for instance - July 22nd. Nestled amongst musings on the weather in 1873 and the roads in 1990, are these two interesting entries.

William L. Shirer (author of 'The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich') wrote in 1940 'Hitler has given Mussolini a birthday present. It's an anti-aircraft armoured train.'

In stark contrast, we find Andy Warhol commenting in 1986 'I've been watching this stuff on Fergie [Duchess of York] and I wonder why doesn't the Queen Mother get married again.'

It's a wonderful book to dip into now and again, when you're not quite sure what book to throw yourself into next, but are in need of a little literary sustenance. Why not try it here - comment with a date (birthday, or just something at random) and I'll pick out an entry that intrigues and enthralls!

I'm in love with a Wonderful guy

He he. This blog gets fed into my facebook page - how many people on there will see the heading and jump to conclusions!

So this wonderful guy - who is he? Ladies and Gents may I introduce you to Mr Wilkie Collins. Ah, I see I have company!

Victorian literature has always been a big part of my reading, but up until this year, I had mainly stuck to the likes of Dickens and Eliot. Then, on a visit to a friend, I was given a copy of The Moonstone and I was immediately pulled into the heady world of Victorian England, which was very different from any I had experienced thus far. I took it to New Zealand with me, where it so managed to engross me that I kept devouring it, even as the scenery whizzed by (although in my defence, there's only so many violet coloured mountains one can look at at any given time).

I returned to the sunny(!) reaches of England and promptly dived into The Woman in White. Here again I devoured and couldn't stop until the final page had been turned. Both novels are fantastically written, moving at a terrific speed, and use numerous narrators, thereby ensuing that as many sides of the story are seen and understood. The Moonstone, in particular, has been hailed as the first detective story, as the genre is known today, although I think The Woman in White is perhaps even more so. I've started Armadale now, and have so far been sunk into the world of stolen identity, revenge and shipwreck .... all in the first few pages.

So, yes - a new author to add to the ever burgeoning list of favourites. Watch out Mr Dickens, there's now a rival for my affections!

Keeping the wolves from the door

I have always been a fan of historical fiction so it is a surprise that I didn't pick up 'Wolf Hall' as soon as it landed on a bookshelf and devour it instantly. I think, perhaps, it has to do with the fact I'm not overly fond of Hilary Mantel.

So - as someone gave me a book voucher for my birthday (in March), I decided to dip my toe into the Mantel waters (white paperback, if anyone is interested). And I was hooked.

Charting the meteoric rise to fame and power of Thomas Cromwell, from his humble beginnings being beaten up by his father in Putney, to chief counsellor and confidante of Henry VIII, it is a book that is on the epic scale.

It might perhaps not be to everyone's taste. The way in which it is written can be a stumbling block. An entire narrative written in the present second person (he has fallen) can make it tricky at times to discern what is happening. Even Mantel appears to trip over at times - particularly in a three way male conversation, when there is a sometimes a need to state who exactly is talking. 'He, Cromwell' interrupts the flow slightly.

With this minor niggle set aside however, it truly is a fascinating book. It traverses history that is well known to most people, but with a fresh insight of one of the key string pullers. Cromwell has always had a bit of a bad reputation, seeing as how he was so involved with the events that shaped English history; but the man we are presented with is so human, full of mystery, passion and knowledge, that one can't help but warm to the man that became Wolsey's successor. Mantel leaves us as Cromwell seems to be reaching the apex of his power, but we all know how the tale will finish.

Mantel is currently planning a second volume but has already said she will find it hard to write the final disastrous and bloody ending. I know I'll find it hard to read, although I am already filled with anticipation, for if the second volume is like the first, I'll be rushing through it at great speed!

Roll up, Roll up!

Before I have get back to the weighty issue of the books that have captured my attention recently, I would like to tell you about a Book Blogger meet up, organised by Stuck-in-a-Book.

Now, I missed the last one, seeing as I was watching Julie Andrews gliding about a stage and breaking my heart with her rendition of Funny Valentine. This time, I WILL be there - not least because it's being held in my lovely home time.

Hopefully we won't be emulating the above picture too much, although I'm sure there will be time for a little quiet reading in amongst the fervent discussions.

It's being held on 25th September (venue TBC), so if you're interested in joining in, email simondavidthomas @ yahoo.com - Bloggers of the world unite (or I suppose the UK, in the instance - unless anyone happens to be travelling) !

Time and tide wait for no man

My goodness - has it really been over three months since I last wrote here? In my defence, I have to say that ever since I came back from New Zealand, it's been totally crazy busy at work, and I've just not felt the inclination to put my thoughts down. I've been reading - I doubt there will be a time when I ever give that up - but when it comes down to a choice between reading and writing, the former won hands down every time.

So, to ease me back into the swing of things, I shall post some photos of the past few months. It's been so lovely, weather wise, the past few months, that there have been quite a few outings!


So - firstly there is New Zealand - These are the mountains of Queenstown, looking suitably Lord of the Rings-y

Here is Mum and I drinking the best wine I've ever tasted!

And this was taken on top of the Franz Josef Glacier!
Back in the UK, I saw Julie Andrews on stage - she's the one in the middle (I was very far away!)
Simon introduced me to this marvel. I've been there three times, and love it!
And here we are, enjoying cake in the sunshine


The weather has been wonderful for the past month or so, and Somerville has been looking particularly beautiful.
And I bought myself the most fabulous 50s dress ever. Here I am testing the wonder that is a two layered petticoat.

Of course there has been much reading, and I have fallen in love with a couple of authors, but more on that later. I fancy a stroll down the river now ....

Judi Dench ... as Titania?

Yes, you did read that title right. Judi Dench is currently in Kingston upon Thames, playing the queen of the faeries in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

An unusual choice, given her age, but perhaps is explained by the fact she is directed by Sir Peter Hall, who directed her in the role forty years ago.

So there I was, at the Rose, sat on the floor (telling sad stories of the death of kings). To explain away the age 'problem', the play started with a mime of the actors getting ready and being visited by Elizabeth I, who takes an interest in the script and seemingly decides that the only person to play Titania is her.

This production of AMND is perhaps the finest I have ever seen (including film versions). All the actors were wonderfully cast (the Mechanicals all had broad brummie accents, which suited them perfectly). Bottom was wonderful, with superb comic timing, and just the right amount of seriousness to make him completely ridiculous. The way he created expression with the Asses' head was a joy to watch, and had me in stitches more than once.

The lovers were very good too - particularly in the later scenes when everything is going wrong and they are near killing each other. And Oberon, as the engineer of all this mayhem was cool and collected, barely taking any notice of Puck's gambolling.

In short, this worked so well, that I wish more directors would take the chance on casting older actresses for these seeming 'young' roles. After all, the Bristol Old Vic is currently staging a geriatric version of Romeo and Juliet, which sounds wonderful!

I've just time to give my apologies for not being around the past few weeks (internet has come to the house, I've just not had time to post!), and now, fair people of the blogosphere, I am off to the other side of the world, to hunt for Hobbits and Lions named Aslan .... in short, I am off to New Zealand.
I will post extensively when I get back, and will no doubt have many pictures to share with you all.

Now all I have to worry about is whether I'm taking too many books!

Literature in Translation

I'm afraid I'm going to be a bit of a shadow figure for the next couple of weeks. I've just moved house and won't be able to get fixed up to the Internet until at least 11th March. I'm currently writing this is an Oxford pub, and whilst I have no objections to this, I doubt if the bar man would be too happy if I became a resident reviewer at one of his tables .... although, I don't know, I could become a tourist attraction.

Watch this space .....

Anyway, boring you about my Internet, or lack thereof, is not the point of this post. I intend to talk to you about a beautiful novel that I have just finished.

This is 'The Elegance of the Hedgehog' by Muriel Barbery, and has been translated from the French. I don't normally read literature in translation - there's far too much originally written in English that I have to make my way through, that I just don't have the time. This however, is a secret gem. Quietly unassuming, and at the beginning a bit hard going (as if trying to prove a point), it blossoms into a beautiful piece of writing that captures the imagination and the heart.

The plot revolves around two central characters - Renee, the concierge to an expensive block of apartments, who struggles to hide her true, intellectual, self behind an uneducated stereotype, and Paloma - a twelve year old resident, who is a genius, determined to kill herself but not before having some profound thoughts. These two unlikely compatriots are brought together and enrich each others lives, whilst also changing their views of the world around them.

I have been converted to translated literature through this book. I didn't think it was possible to love something so much, and be so heartbroken at the way it turned out as I was. I was so sure I knew what the denouement would entail, and when the total reverse happened, I was truly shocked. It's a wonderful book, and if you haven't read it, you really should go in search. It's elegance is truly mesmerising.

Moving towards A.S. Byatt

Tonight is my last night in the family home - I finally move out tomorrow, after months of just talking about it!

I'd probably be a lot more excited, had I not been laid low by a stonking cold (and cough) and if I'd done an iota of packing. C'est la vie - I'm not moving very far, just up the road in fact, so that should be a blessing when it comes to carting my things.

So, to commemorate this last night, I thought I'd take you on a tour of my favourite book of the year, so far .... even though I read most of it in 2009.

I've struggled with A.S. Byatt in the past - I always stop at the same place when reading 'Possession', and I've not been able to settle into anything else of hers. Also, I went right off her personally when I read her comments about Harry Potter readers 'Ms Rowling's magic world has no place for the numinous. It is written for people whose imaginative lives are confined to TV cartoons and the exaggerated (more exciting, not threatening) mirror-worlds of soaps, reality TV and celebrity gossip.' Bah humbug.
Happily, this did not put me off picking up 'The Children's Book' , and just as well, because it is a revelation to me. Starting out in 1895 and sweeping right through to the end of world war one, it is a portrait of half a dozen free thinking families whose lives all intertwine. At it's root is an adherence to Fabianism and artistry, so that the reader becomes familiar with the inner workings of the Victoria and Albert Museum, pot making and the writing of fairy tales. A.S. Byatt is adept at turning her writing to other forms and so manages to weave these tales as well as the rest of her novel.

Nothing I was expecting to happen actually does so, and those characters I was so interested in at the beginning shift, so that their importance is lessened later, much like the lives of any normal family.

This is a book that will stay with one, the richness of it only fully being appreciated the longer you think about it. And I love the cover - what more do you need!