A new interest?

It’s always nice to take up a new interest. This time it’s not really ‘new’, just an extension. I’ve been fascinated by  history for as long as I can remember. At school it tended to be ‘the Tudors and the Stuarts’ ad infinitum.  When I started my Open University career I thought this would be my strength, taking a couple of courses focussing on the Reformation and the Renaissance, until I inadvertently stumbled on the ancient Greeks, and so onto the Romans, my real love. Now, looking for  something to keep my brain ticking over during the winter, I’ve started on a short course called Richard lll, which should actually be more accurately called The Wars of the Roses. It is, in fact, a very basic introduction to the medieval world, and very fascinating it is too. What is so interesting is the way nothing has changed in 600 years. The poll tax caused an uprising in 14th century, probably contributing to the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, and almost caused another revolt in 1990, causing Margaret Thatcher enormous problems. Shortage of labour after the ravages of the Black Death led to changes in methods of agriculture, discontent amongst the labour force, and problems between workers and employers. Now it’s not shortage of workers, but shortage of work, leading to discontent. I wait with anticipation to find out ‘what happens next’. The course is so structured that only one week at a time is released so I can’t ‘read ahead’! The reason for this is, presumably, because part of the structure of the course is an ongoing discussion, and for that to work the participants need to be at about the same place at the same time.

This is something else that has been taking my attention at the moment, a book about a trip around Britain visiting nearly all the Roman sites in the country. A beautifully written book, more of a travelogue than a history book, but full of all sorts of snippets of information. I say nearly all because Charlotte Higgins blue camper van did not manage to find its way to the small Roman town of Alcester in Warwickshire where I volunteer at the Roman Museum! Perhaps she could make a special trip next year for our tenth birthday celebrations!

The next major happening is, of course, the dreaded run up to Christmas! It creeps up on me every year. Each time I decide I will start early, and each time it’s suddenly the beginning of December and I have done very little. Well, I did buy some cards a few months ago, and have only just remembered where I put them. I have several to go abroad, so I had better get cracking or they won’t arrive until the New Year! Just in case I don’t get done in time, can I wish everyone a Happy Christmas, and a Prosperous New Year.

Finally, things are looking up!

This may look a bit of an odd title, but it’s exactly how I feel at the moment. Things really are looking up. Let me start at the end. In an earlier post I wrote about the problems getting tickets to see David Tennant as Richard ll. Well, yesterday was the day, and it really was worth all the effort to procure them. Davis Tennant is always good value – he really is a splendid actor – but the icing on the cake was the wonderful Oliver Ford Davies as the Duke of York. I have seen him numerous times, but never has he let the audience down. This picture is not from the current production, but from the last time David Tennant was in Stratford, playing Hamlet. He was a splendid Polonius in a very starry-casted production. We even had good seats with a wonderful view, and, the best bit of all, it didn’t rain! And, joy of joys, driving in all the traffic lights were at green! What more can one ask?

The night before was the start of this years ‘serious’ Latin classes. It has been decided, with perhaps a misplaced sense of optimism, to aim for the GCSE, instead of just meandering our way through one of the many Latin courses available. The idea is to focus the mind! We shall see. We don’t have to actually take the exam, but……? As I said, we shall see! I do enjoy the Latin classes. The group are fun, and the teacher is excellent. But we really need to buckle down a little to get the best out of it.

But perhaps the best of the ‘looking up’ relates to my health. I posted a while back on the subject of doctors penchant for the phrase ‘it’s your age’! Well, it wasn’t! It took me six months but I finally got my doctor to prescribe the vitamin D injection suggested by the consultant he had sent me to! I am now a new woman. Seriously! Almost immediately my legs stopped feeling as if they didn’t want to work, and actually carrying me where I wanted to go. Without effort! The only downside is that I have just about ‘lost’ the entire summer, and winter is nearly upon us. So golf is not a sensible option at present – far too wet! I am just lucky that I am a stubborn woman, and flatly refuse to lie down and let people walk all over me. I’m not sure I didn’t get the prescription just to get rid of me! We ‘oldies’ have to stand up for ourselves because no-one else will. Sad but true.

Christmas is creeping (or do I mean galloping?) towards us. What is it? Six weeks? I really shall have to do something about thinking about it. Not DOING anything, just THINKING about it! I did buy some Christmas cards a while back. Where did I put them?! I like this picture, but lets just hope it’s not a forecast of things to come too  soon!

 

Atlantis

I got around to watching the first episode of this last night, having previously recorded it, so I had already seen a few of the comments and reviews. They seemed to be pretty evenly split between those who loved it, and those who were spitting feathers about the liberties taken with the ancient myths. What the majority of them failed to take into account was the target audience. Only one – that I have seen so there may be others – pointed out that the audience was definitely NOT the classicist, but the couch potato sitting on the sofa filling in the time between Strictly and Casualty. These people would not know the difference between one myth or another, so mixing them up for entertainment value is certainly not a cardinal sin. And boy, was it good entertainment! The three leads are a wonderful mix, Jason, as handsome and buff as any other hero, Pythagoras as nerdy as they come, but brave when needed,  and Hercules run to fat and cowardly! If the programme sold itself as a documentary that would be different, but it has never purported to be anything of the sort. The series is produced by the same company that brought us Merlin, and that, also based on a well-known myth, passed almost without comment. They have taken a story where the character names would be familiar, and played around with them to fabulous effect. One problem is that the world of the classicist is a fairly narrow one, and has a tendency towards navel gazing. Why should the ancient world be exempt from ‘historical tampering’? Myths are, after all, just that, stories with little basis in fact and interpreted even in  ancient times in many different ways. If you give it some thought, Hollywood blockbusters have been driving a coach and horses through history for years. You only have to think about Mel Gibson as William Wallace! And what about all those WWll  films with the good ol’ US Marine Corps riding to the rescue before they had even entered the war! My husband, who is interested in maritime history, tells me that the film Master and Commander also had liberties taken with it. The supposedly unsinkable ship was, in fact, American, and the action took place during the war against America in 1812. The timescale was moved so the ship could be French because the filmmakers decided it wasn’t a good idea to have the English fighting the Americans. Why is anybody’s guess.

Having said all that, in my humble opinion, even as an ancient historian (I have never called myself a classicist) I loved this episode, and hope that the rest of the run is even half as good. It has that appearance of a stonking great hit, and more power to it’s elbow.

On a different subject, this weekend sees the start of the Cheltenham LitFest. We are going on three different days, the first one being this Sunday, to see something completely for the fun of it, Armstrong and Osman of Pointless fame. Okay, not very erudite, but we do also have tickets for Mary Beard, a session on reading Ovid – in Latin, Max Hastings on WWl, and other more serious offerings. As with the Atlantis production, sometimes something is good enough just because it is fun, not because it is boringly historically accurate, and worthy! A smile is priceless.

 

A bit late this time.

Life seems to have got in the way this month, so I am a couple of weeks late this time. Not anything in particular, just ‘life’! I have been emailing a friend recently about the problems of not actually having a ‘reason’ to get things done. I spent 10 years or so, since I started with the Open University until I finished my MA, studying and chasing deadlines. I am one of those people who need a deadline. Otherwise it is far too easy to say to myself ‘that can wait until tomorrow’, which we all know ‘never comes!’ The OU is a brilliant organisation which gives late starters like me the opportunity to ‘get an education’, and open up areas of interest we didn’t know we had. For me it was ancient history, especially the Romans. I just love the sheer energy of them, the pragmatic way they went about things. The Greeks were interesting, and unsurpassed in certain areas, like art and drama, and the obvious Athenian gift of ‘democracy’, but the Romans had this wonderful attitude of ‘if it’s not broke don’t fix it.’ I now have a pretty large library of books about many aspects of the Roman world – not as necessarily ‘intellectual’ as some of my friends, but covering my peculiar interests, a great many of which are still  waiting to be read. It’s very odd, but, when I was studying, and had assignments to finish and exams to take, time spent ‘just reading’ was time well spent. Now, I feel I have to justify any time in the middle of the day when I just want to sit and read. The back of the mind keeps saying ‘ shouldn’t you be doing some housework? making a cake? doing some ironing…..?’ All the thinks that were quite happily put on the back burner while I was studying. It has been suggested I start on another OU course – there are so many interesting ones still out there, with other organisations as well – but they  are just soooo expensive now. An unfortunate side effect of the recent hike in university fees. A real shame because it disenfranchises a whole swathe of OU students – the retired who are living on pensions, but still trying to keep their brains more than just ticking over.

Thanks to my interest in all things Roman, I am still involved in the Roman Museum in my home town of Alcester. We celebrate our 10th anniversary in July next year, and a programme of events is even now being planned by ‘the committee!’ The main attraction is going to be a talk by the always fascinating, and brilliant speaker (I know, I’ve heard her speak several times!) Lindsey Davis. I love the way her mind works. Being an ex- civil servant myself, as she is,  I can follow her ‘methodology’. But the thing I really, really, like about her work is that it is accurate. She does her homework, and Falco’s world of Vespasian Rome is a world that existed. She is not an ‘academic’ as most of the speakers we have had at the museum have been, but she is well-known to the wider populace in Alcester, and the museum celebrations are designed to be opened up to the whole.town, not just the aficionados.

Talking of speakers, I have booked tickets to see the always splendid Mary Beard at the Cheltenham Lit/Fest next month. Happily she seems to come every year, and is always entertaining and educational. For one session she will be reading Ovid with Llewellyn Morgan and Peter Stothard. They  have done this a few times, and it is always a delight.

 

Reading back over this I have come to the conclusion I am not entirely sitting around doing nothing intellectual! And I have missed one thing – on Monday afternoon I am at the museum, pot washing!  There was a big dig in Alcester a couple of years ago, and we have finally got hold of some of the results. According to some of the people already involved there are some really splendid examples of Samian ware! This is a piece that is already in the museum! We are so lucky.

Pheww!

Well, that was a hot one wasn’t it! July that is. Apparently the hottest July for 100 years. One of the things I love (?) about the British weather is it’s sheer unpredictability. Wonderful. But the hot weather, so much longed for during the dark days of a horrible winter, does have it’s drawbacks. Our inability to cope with it for one. We can’t cope with a few days of snow in the winter or soaring temperatures in the summer.

How many people remember scenes like these?

Quite a contrast! And we seem to be equally unable to cope with either extreme.
But there have been some really good days in this July. Yorkshire is a county where I have spent many happy times, and we went back for a visit, staying with my brother and his longsuffering wife! One of my on-going daydreams is to decide where in the country I would like to move to for my ‘declining years’ given a free choice. High on the list is Ilkley in Yorkshire. This is one of the beauty spots close to the town, the Cow and Calf up on Ilkley Moor. The one you go up on ‘baht at’! But it is also situated at the head of Wharfedale, with all it’s beauties, Bolton Abbey being one of my particular favourites. The town itself is also a joy. It has a wonderfully eclectic mix of shops, and interesting eating places. The most famous of these is the eponymous Bettys which has branches in the so elegant towns of Harrogate and Ripon. Having tea there regularly is a recipe for disaster. It puts pounds and inches on you just to walk in the door.

I lived in Ilkley for a few years when my children were young. A visit last month showed a town not much different from when we were there in the 1970’s. It seems to have managed to keep reasonably up to date, without losing it’s way. Quite a feat in this day and age.
Another highlight of July is always the Game Fair at Ragley Hall. Most years it is the Midlands version of this event. Every so often we are honoured with the national CLA event. The main difference is the sheer scale. For the local event we can drive up when we want to with very little trouble. This year, as the day went on, the queues of cars reached back for miles. We made the unusual (for us) decision to get there early. The gates opened at 7 am, so we set out at the unheard of time of 6:30! Boy, was it worth it! We were not held up at all, parked very near the entrance gate, and started walking round before the sun had reached it’s hottest. A win/win situation. When I told a friend we were going she said she awaited the annual picture of JU with a bird of prey! Not this time unfortunately. There were plenty of birds of prey, but none you could ‘get your hands on’ sadly. She will have to make do with this! A magnificent African Crowned Eagle giving us the evil eye! As for the fair itself, my favourite part is always the food bit. All the really local stuff, made by artisans who love what they are doing. Food that is made with passion always tastes that little bit better doesn’t it. We are so lucky around here to have so many local producers, including a brewery my husband swears by, Purity Beer, whose UBU beer is named after the dog ‘Useless Bloody Urchin’! The local cider makers, Hogan’s, are my particular choice.
Having been away, and then running into a week of really horrible weather (still hot but wet and thundery), I haven’t played golf for a few weeks. So I am just hoping the weather holds for this Sunday. It will be good to get out again, just hope I can improve on the golf I was playing before I went away! But this brings me to a beef. A few weeks ago it was the Men’s British Open Golf (or The Open as it’s known!) and the BBC had it wall to wall, 9 in the morning till about 8 at night, all day, every day. Today the Ladies equivalent has started, with the favourite in line to make history. What does the  BBC give us? About 1:30 to 5:00 each day! For a broadcaster who makes such an issue of ‘equality’ this smacks of chauvinism. Shame on you BBC. Imbee Park, going for her fourth major in a row, to hold all four in one calendar year, a feat never done so far.

Unbiased opinions?

I remember talking, several years ago, with a historian who had written several books, about searching for ‘the truth’. His contention was that all historians are searching for the plain unvarnished truth. This is patently untrue. All historians are searching for ‘their’ truth. However hard they try to be impartial it is human nature to have a ‘leaning’ towards one sort of interpretation of a ‘fact’ than another. As in the old adage ‘one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.’ The book that had started the discussion was one by a very well-known, and very respected, writer of historical faction, about a subject that causes all sorts of arguments. (Names are not necessary here!) She obviously had decided which side she was going to come down on. There were huge amounts of evidence on each side of the debate. However, anything that disproved her theory was discounted on the grounds ‘it comes from a friend’ and anything that supported her was fine because ‘it comes from his enemies.’ Am I missing something?

During my years with the Open University I was taught how to construct an argument in an essay. Fine. But several of my tutors (not all, but a substantial amount) advised me to write my conclusion before anything else, and work towards it. I came to academia late, and my thought processes were already set to a certain extent. I start with a question, look at the evidence, and then draw conclusions based on that evidence.Now I do realise that the idea, at that stage, was to teach me to argue on either side of a debate. As someone who was a Classical Studies student (though I actually call myself an ancient historian, for good reason!) I do understand the nature of rhetoric. So, while I may not like the idea, I can understand it to a certain extent. But the idea is still somewhat foreign to me.

Along a similar track, a while ago there was an argument about what buildings were suitable for, I think, Horse guards Parade in London. Prince Charles got involved. At that time I went to an art group where one of the artists was very keen on anything ‘modern’ and was almost incoherent on the subject. Prince Charles should not have brought his considerable weight to bear. Close questioning, however, suggested that if he had been in favour……..! As an aside I must make one comment about Prince Charles. He is one of those unfortunate people who are ‘damned if they do and damned if they don’t.’ He divides opinion across the board, and is really on a hiding to nothing.

But writing the conclusion first is very much in mind at the moment! It’s Wimbledon, wahaay! And guess what, we have two – yes TWO – players into the second week. While Laura Robson is not expected to win the championship, she is put under extreme pressure for each individual match. And as for Andy Murray, he’s in the final already! After the excitements of the first week, and the loss of so many  leading players, anything less than hoisting the trophy at the end will be deemed a serious failure. The commentators making these predictions do not all have the excuse that they are true blue Brits either! But they are being paid by the very British BBC I suppose. For Andy however it is a huge pressure. Our last Wimbledon hopeful, Tim Henman, will be forever known as the player who didn’t quite make it. A serial choker.  Murray has, at least, the US Open to his name, but for a Brit it’s Wimbledon that counts. A bit like the ancient games. The winner was feted for the rest of his life. Nobody remembered who came second, except that they had seriously failed. Britain seems to have changed from a country where the taking part matters, to a country that only recognises victory. No longer the ‘nice guys’ of sport, but ready to ‘get down and dirty’ to win. Is this a good thing? I’m still not sure, but it is good to be able to cheer on someone with a realistic chance. Come on Laura! Come on Andy! But don’t feel too bad if the people who wrote the conclusion first got it wrong!

Memories

This is Marjorie Jocelyn Wilkins nee Broadbent, my mother,born 1st June 1922. Today would have been her 91st birthday. She died, aged 75, on 17th December 1997, having given up her fight against Parkinson’s Disease. And I do mean ‘given up’. She railed against it for nearly 20 years, but, in the end, it was just too much for her. We had our differences but I do still miss her terribly. Today is one of the days when I miss her more than ever.

At her funeral the minister described her as ‘single-minded to the point of obstinacy’! What he meant was that she was one of the most pig-headed people I have ever met. But she needed to be. She didn’t have the easiest of lives, but she did make the most of it. The most important thing she did, in her eyes anyway, was to join the WAAF during the war, and therefore meet my father. He was the love of her life, and, after he died in the Berlin Airlift at the tender age of 26, she never found anyone to equal him. Their wedding, in 1942, was, apparently, a joyous occasion, though you would not know it from the photographs! Aren’t they a scary lot! She loved him so much she was even jealous of me. I was the apple of my Daddy’s eye, and it was difficult for her to take. Somehow this remained for the rest of her life. My brother was always the one who did the right things – even when it was me who did them! But underneath I know she loved me, and I loved her.  As a widow with children she had many decisions to make. The most important as far as my brother and I were concerned was the one she made about our education. The people of Berlin had a fund to pay for the education of the children of the men who died saving them from starvation, and Mum decided both Graham and I should go to boarding school, and she would take a job in a school. Therefore we would not be ‘latch key’ kids, and we would have the holidays together. It could not have been easy for her. Her mother had died just a few months after my father, so she didn’t even that help. In fact she moved in to help my grandfather for a while, and then moved to a farm shared with her sister’s family. It was not until I was nearly 20 that she finally got a home of her own. Her small flat in Stratford upon Avon was her pride and joy until she had to move into assisted living due entirely to the Parkinson’s. But she was always proud of her children. My biggest regret is that she died just before I started my studies with the Open University. She would have been so thrilled with my First Class BA, and over the moon with my MA. I just wish she could have been there when I met Betty Boothroyd at Symphony Hall in Birmingham! This is one of the proudest moments in my life, and I like to think she was sitting up on her cloud feeling equally proud. Her Will, apart from the usual, asked one special thing. She wanted to be cremated, and her ashes taken to Ohlsdorf Cemetery in Hamburg to be buried with my father. 1998 was the 50th anniversary of the Berlin Airlift, and the British Berlin Airlift Association were arranging a trip for the veterans and the next of kin of the men who lost their lives. They were extremely helpful, and arranged everything – well , almost everything! German law said that, in order to take ashes into the country the box containing them had to be taken to the Embassy in London to be inspected, sealed, and a certificate issued for German Customs. Luckily my son was going to London about that time, so he offered to do the honours. He took the box in a carrier bag and boarded the train in Birmingham. A friend got on and asked if he was travelling alone. ‘No’ said son ‘I’m travelling with my grandmother!’ His trip to London included a visit to a night club, where he duly deposited the box, now sealed, in the cloakroom. Mother would have been thrilled! We were also allowed to take a marker stone, provided it was York Stone, and a standard size. My brother and I took it with us onto the plane, and put it under the seat in front of us. Flight attendant ‘This has to go in the overhead locker.’ Brother ‘I don’t think so.’ FA trying to pick it up ‘I don’t think so!’

One of the things I do miss is having to remember for both my brother and myself to buy cards and presents! Graham could only remember one birthday a year, February 10th, his own! But it is on days like this that I think about my own family. Mum and I had so many fights, and so many things that I regret I didn’t say to her when she was capable of understanding what I was saying to her. So I say now, Simon, Caroline and Nik, I love you all dearly, and your partners and children – not to forget Callum, my almost brand new Great grandson. And my only brother, Graham, with his long suffering wife Linda. Looking forward to coming to see you in a couple of months, up there in the wilds of Yorkshire!

Happy birthday Mum. I just wish you were here so I could tell you in person.

At last!

This is a Bateleur Eagle sunning itself at the Bird of Prey Centre at Batsford Arboretum. The look of ecstasy on it’s face was enough to raise the spirits after a long hard winter. How long it lasts is another matter, but, in the sunshine, I am ever the optimist! We hadn’t intended to visit Batsford, having planned to travel into Birmingham to see the John Flaxman exhibition at the IKON gallery on the last day of showing. The sight of the sunshine when we woke up, and the lack of the previously all pervading cold wind, decided us that a train journey, followed by a couple of hours indoors, was not proof against the idea of a walk in the sunshine, and a visit to the birds of prey. No contest!

It was a shame about the Flaxman exhibition though. His drawings are stunning, and the IKON is a gallery well worth supporting. Free entry and a really good cafe does go a long way! But the walk in the sunshine was much healthier for our bodies, if not for our minds. And its our bodies that need it at this time of year. We had , after all, travelled all the way to London to see the much vaunted Pompeii Exhibition at the British Museum to satisfy the mind.

This is one of my favourite exhibits, among so many. We have two dogs, and they try very hard, and very noisily, to defend the house for us! The exhibition as a whole can be summed up in just three words, ‘hot, crowded – and wonderful.’ There is far too much to take in on a single visit. I am lucky, I am a ‘Friend’ so I can ‘swipe’ in free whenever, and as often, as I like. (There was a long queue when we arrived, and their faces were a picture as we went to the front of the queue and straight in!) Our local Roman Museum group is organising a coach trip soon so I have booked a place – just on the coach, I don’t need a ticket! This is much cheaper than the train, and is effectively door to door. So I will have the opportunity to have a second go at seeing all the things I missed first time around, or was just too knackered towards the end!

This is a very poignant exhibit. Almost more than the bodies, and the babies crib. It shows how life was continuing right up to the last minute. There may be a volcano erupting, but the citizens of the town would still need bread! I’ve always maintained that the Romans were a very pragmatic and practical people, unlike the effete Greeks! I will now run for cover from my Hellenist friends!

One advantage of the much improved weather is being able to play golf without the disadvantages of so many layers of clothing! At least I can now actually swing a club properly. Not that the golf has improved much – but the enjoyment certainly has. For the first time for months I’ve actually seen the back 9 holes, and they are fantastic. Even the dreaded 12th is much improved by the filling in of the poorly placed ditch off the tee. Still find it hard (for some reason it is ALWAYS into the face of a strong wind!) but at least I can now aim straight over the pond instead of having to go right. I’m just hoping now that the weather improvements continue so, just perhaps, the golf itself will improve! Only small signs of that at the moment. I’ve just played the first round of a match play knockout competition, admittedly against the handicap secretary, and got absolutely stuffed! But it was a beautiful day, we played on until the 18th, the company was good, and I did hit a fair few good shots. Not all bad then!

There is a drawback to the good weather though! The garden is sprouting all over the place! This means lawns need mowing (Paul’s job!), beds need weeding, things need planting. Don’t misunderstand me, I love gardens, I just hate gardening. It’s the only time I really feel my age. Everything aches! Knees seize up, muscles go into spasm ……..! Ah well, there have to be some disadvantages to advancing age I suppose! Perhaps we will just decide to pave over the whole lot? Nah! Where would Gypsy and Ozzy go to dig holes and bring dirt and grass into the house? Where would the birds come to sing for us as we wake up? And where would we go to have that glass of wine in the summer evenings if all we could see was a boring pavement? The aches and pains really are worth it in the long run.