Where was I? I've been in Cambridge on the last module of the course that will be my last bit of formal education. (Why do I have the feeling I'll have to eat those words? No, NO, I'm never doing another of these....) Actually, it wasn't too bad. Our group project came together like a dream. It was truly amazing. I HAD spent one whole weekend and about four evenings doing a splendid editing job - which no-one thanked me for (I'll take that as a sign that I did it so well no-one noticed!) - but even so, we really got our act together, finished the paper and handed it in. So now I'm on the home run, just a couple of thousand words to write and most of them are already on the page....
And somewhere in the middle of all this I've rediscovered a subject that's interested me on and off all my life - about a military figure, funnily enough, though the military bit doesn't grab my attention much - and I've been taken over by this incredible urge to research every last corner of his life and write a book on it by 2009. The story that's unfolding is quite breathtaking. And the astonishing thing is that it comes at me like scenes out of a film. I'm someone who watches very little TV - except for the news - and only occasionally goes to the cinema.
So you're right, I've been off on a trip, enjoying myself - surfing the internet an ordering dusty old books that are now carefully stashed away on the right-hand side of my desk, still cushioned in bubble wrapping and with the cardboard box resealed around them. I keep taking them out and reading a bit more, then putting them back. These two volumes date from 1822. At Cambridge, I spent a day in the library, with my nose in even dustier books containing copies of handwritten letters from 1790 onwards from the brother of my 'hero'. Those letters alone would make a book but I found out from google that somebody's already written that one.
All very intriguing, even a little scary to see how quickly you can be taken over by a story that's ten times bigger than yourself. Who would have thought that this is what would emerge from all that sweating over the university work? Wish me luck. When things get too big, I have a tendency to drop them. But, having said that, this one just keeps coming back and presenting itself again.
Now you know why I forgot - really forgot - about dear ol' Picc. Think it's time to stick the 'P' back and make it feel like home again.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
An idea from Scott.... from Ric.....
I read this on Acting Up (see links below right):
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions
Well, here goes, Scott:
"To such bondage for the human mind and imagination I prefer even our avowed slavery. However that may be, the horrible condition which puts one man at the mercy of another ought to be carefully regulated by law. I saw to it that a slave should no longer be anonymous merchandise sold without regard for the family ties which he has formed, or a contemptible object whom a judge submits to torture before taking his testimony, instead of accepting it upon oath."
From 'Memoirs of Hadrian' by Marguerite Yourcenar (1955) London and Southampton: Secker and Warburg.
Actually, the sentences immediately preceding those three are perhaps even more interesting:
"I doubt if all the philosophy in the world can suceed in suppressing slavery; it will, at most, change the name. I can well imagine forms of servitude worse than our own, because more insidious, whether they transform men into stupid, complacent machines, who believe themselves free just when they are most subjugated, or whether to the exclusion of leisure and pleasures essential to man they develop a passion for work as violent as the passion for war among barbarous races." Hmm.
The 'Memoirs of Hadrian', is a work of fiction - though based on historical fact - supposedly narrated by the Emperor Hadrian himself. It's one of Bud's (many) dusty old books and was the nearest book to hand on the right side of my desk.
And now, if you're not Scott (or Ric), it's your turn....
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions
Well, here goes, Scott:
"To such bondage for the human mind and imagination I prefer even our avowed slavery. However that may be, the horrible condition which puts one man at the mercy of another ought to be carefully regulated by law. I saw to it that a slave should no longer be anonymous merchandise sold without regard for the family ties which he has formed, or a contemptible object whom a judge submits to torture before taking his testimony, instead of accepting it upon oath."
From 'Memoirs of Hadrian' by Marguerite Yourcenar (1955) London and Southampton: Secker and Warburg.
Actually, the sentences immediately preceding those three are perhaps even more interesting:
"I doubt if all the philosophy in the world can suceed in suppressing slavery; it will, at most, change the name. I can well imagine forms of servitude worse than our own, because more insidious, whether they transform men into stupid, complacent machines, who believe themselves free just when they are most subjugated, or whether to the exclusion of leisure and pleasures essential to man they develop a passion for work as violent as the passion for war among barbarous races." Hmm.
The 'Memoirs of Hadrian', is a work of fiction - though based on historical fact - supposedly narrated by the Emperor Hadrian himself. It's one of Bud's (many) dusty old books and was the nearest book to hand on the right side of my desk.
And now, if you're not Scott (or Ric), it's your turn....
Back again
I'm back. Had a great holiday - just far too short! But it did me a world of good. Complete rejuvenation job, in fact. Not what you might expect for a trip to the North of England. But it's so beautiful up there in Northumberland, around Hadrian's Wall (the wall that the Roman Emperor Hadrian had built to keep those troublesome Picts out of his empire) and in the Lake District. We saw some rain, of course, but managed not to get wet (we were always in the car or in a supermarket during the worst downpours) and we had plenty of hot sun. I even managed to get a faint tinge of sun, or what passes on my pale skin for sunburn. Saw mother, brother, nephews - those two for the first time in about three years (the big one is bigger than me now) - and called in at York, Durham, Newcastle (now there's a fine city, I'd no idea), Carlisle, Manchester and, on the way in from the port, at Colchester. We did the whole trip in our car, driving to the Hook of Holland and taking the ferry over to Harwich in East Anglia.
Oh, we visited Norwich as well. I'd heard and read that it was well worth a visit. We obviously didn't find the right bit because Norwich is as dead as a door nail, full of loud, uncouth students and incredibly stressed people. The waitress in the pizzeria we ate at made our blood pressure go up, poor girl. And there was a noticably different reaction to us from the few people we spoke to - wary, anxious, not sure if it was 'safe' to speak to us. I don't know if we were just unlucky, if this is the way people are in Norwich or if the recent terror threats in Britain have made people in the south (east) generally more wary of anyone with a less than pasty white skin. At any rate, Bud hated the place - and the rest of East Anglia as well. He's suggested that we cut Norwich out of our map of Britain so we're never tempted to go there again!
Luckily, he loves the North of England and even thinks may prefer it to the south. Friendly, communicative people and an immediate feeling of being at home. Well, I have to say, he's right!
Oh, we visited Norwich as well. I'd heard and read that it was well worth a visit. We obviously didn't find the right bit because Norwich is as dead as a door nail, full of loud, uncouth students and incredibly stressed people. The waitress in the pizzeria we ate at made our blood pressure go up, poor girl. And there was a noticably different reaction to us from the few people we spoke to - wary, anxious, not sure if it was 'safe' to speak to us. I don't know if we were just unlucky, if this is the way people are in Norwich or if the recent terror threats in Britain have made people in the south (east) generally more wary of anyone with a less than pasty white skin. At any rate, Bud hated the place - and the rest of East Anglia as well. He's suggested that we cut Norwich out of our map of Britain so we're never tempted to go there again!
Luckily, he loves the North of England and even thinks may prefer it to the south. Friendly, communicative people and an immediate feeling of being at home. Well, I have to say, he's right!
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