Curiouser and Curiouser

My brother's gorgeous girlfriend took this series of photos of my darling mother recently, looking like Alice in Wonderland or some other fairy tale...

A Bookish Character

I only realised late yesterday evening that today was World Book Day, which, in the school-going world, often involves dressing up as your favourite character from a book for the day. I was rather annoyed at myself for not clocking this earlier, as I would have dressed up as my favourite character for the office, if only I'd had a little more time to think and plot and plan. Fancy dressing for the office is frequently more of a challenge than for recreational fancy dress, as you have to strike a balance between respectability and fun (as experienced here and here). So I really needed more time to work something out. But as I started conjuring up ideas belatedly this evening, I realised just how endless the possibilities are... 

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(I urge you to follow that link - a fascinating
progression of covers for Alice over the years)

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(Again, follow that link!)

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Do you think I could go as a character from The Wind in the Willows? Obviously I wouldn't paint on whiskers or wear ears, so it would just be Edwardian country gentlemen's clothes really.

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Of course, it doesn't have to be only children's books that I draw from. But considering how many ideas I came up with just from that section of the library of the world's books, there doesn't seem to be the need to go elsewhere. And the concept is derived from an idea for children, after all. Hm, it would be somewhat ironic if I went as, say, The Naughtiest Girl in the School, wearing my take on a school uniform - exactly what the kids of the world are getting out of wearing on that very same day.

Anyway, I'll put in my diary for next year and plan ahead - not just a costume for myself but maybe a nice little event with my workmates and/or friends revolving around favourite books. Watch this space!

And happy reading!

Dear Tess...

Illustration from The Graphic in 1891 (Image source)

So, I recently read Tess of the D'Urbervilles for the first time ever and I may or may not be a little bit obsessed with it now... If you've not read it, I would highly, highly recommend it. It is one of Thomas Hardy's most famous works and was originally published in serial form in The Graphic magazine in 1891. I don't know if I could have handled reading it in serial form, having to wait between each edition of the magazine, as I absolutely devoured it.

1892 edition cover (Image source)

It's a perfect Victorian melodramatic tragedy. And although poor, sweet Tess suffers blow after blow and is let down by various men, and in some ways is hopelessly meek, I also found it unexpectedly empowering as she ploughed on despite the odds against her. It's all just beautifully written and terribly, terribly Romantic too. Call me sentimental, but I also just loved the romance at the core of it all, even as things go horribly wrong and the young, foolish lovers really make awful decisions and screw things up for each other and for themselves. That's more like life, isn't it? The ending too, is strangely happy, despite the fact it's actually hopelessly depressing...

Frontispiece from 1920s edition (Image source)

If you've not read it, and you don't know the story of it, I hope this has suitably intrigued you. Even though, as I said, it's perfectly Victorian and the central story revolves around the principles of a culture which has thoroughly changed in many respects in the Western world, it still feels remarkably relevant and fresh. Well, let's face it, although women are no longer explicitly judged on their purity or otherwise, and double standards aren't quite so severe as they were a century ago, we can certainly still feel affinity with a girl being tossed around and torn apart by men and her own self-judgement. 

Recent edition cover (Image source)

But, yes, ever so slightly obsessed. It's probably a bit much to read it again immediately, especially when I have so many other things on my reading list... although I have been sneaking back to certain bits and lingering over them again. A friend mentioned that he watched the 1970s version many years ago and I did try to look it up out of curiosity, to see how it was rendered. I wasn't able to find it online but I came across the BBC serialised version made in 2008 and, although I haven't watched the whole thing yet, I have browsed through. (Can you browse through a TV show? Well, you apparently can online.) It's quite good - very picturesque and Gemma Arterton is a fox. (I'm allowed to say that - Tess is supposed to be easy on the eyes...)

Gemma Arterton in the 2008 BBC version (Image source)

Still I can't get it out of my brain though, and so I've been conjuring up plans to go on a pilgrimage to Wessex. Hardy based his novels in a semi-fictional south-west of England, named after the ancient Saxon kingdom of Wessex and covering the counties around Dorset and Wiltshire and such. He made up names for the various places in his stories but they are apparently based around real towns and cities. So I'm now planning out a trip, to hopefully take place in Spring - I'm thinking about May Day, as the time of year the novel begins... Definitely on my list of locations is Bindon Abbey, apparently the inspiration for one of the most striking scenes of the novel... though apparently these days the ruins are in the grounds of a health spa, which won't be quite the same as the image in my head, conjured up by Hardy.

Bindon Abbey in Tess' time (Image source)

Have you read, or seen, Tess of the D'Urbervilles? What are your thoughts? Did you like Tess or find her insipid? Did it make you rage against men or just sigh at the world and human complexity and ill-judgement? And have you read any other Hardy? Is it worth me trying another or will it be another case of the time I was enthralled by Oliver Twist, assumed I would like all Dickens, but then wanted to bash my head against the desk as I forced my way through the trite and awful David Copperfield...? Do share!

... But One Month 'Til Christmas

On Friday, a memorial for C.S. Lewis was unveiled in Westminster Abbey's Poets' Corner, where various British authors are commemorated and celebrated. The unveiling took place on the 50th anniversary of his death. 

C.S. Lewis' memorial in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey (Image source)

C.S. Lewis wrote and presented extensively but he is probably most widely known for his Narnia series, of which The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, published in 1950, is the most famous installment. And the timing of the unveiling of Lewis' memorial just happens to be an appropriate time to be thinking of this classic story, in which the Pevensie children arrive in the magical land of Narnia to find that it is 'always Winter, but never Christmas'. The arrival of Father Christmas later in the story is a sign of hope that the evil White Witch's spell is breaking, and the children are furnished with Christmas gifts to help them in the battle for Narnia.

Mr Tumnus and Lucy walking through the wintery scene of Narnia
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As we in the Northern Hemisphere start to move into Winter, with colder, shorter days, at least we - unlike the citizens of Narnia - know that the brightness and warmth of Christmas are not too far down the track, with Christmas Eve but one month away today.

Virginia, Vita and Knole

London has been sweltering in the heat this last week, so today I decided to get out of the city. Knowing the seaside would be heaving in any place that could be reached by train, I instead decided to head for the leafy, inland countryside. But where to go?

I'm currently part way through reading Orlando, by Virginia Woolf. My first of her novels... I realised that this was a gap in my literary adventures that had to be filled, and I'm glad I've now addressed the gap, because I'm loving her writing. But the relevance of this is that Orlando is apparently a semi-biographical work, inspired by Vita Sackville-West, although also steeped in fantasy and history. The novel starts in the Elizabethan period, with the titular character brooding and wandering around his family seat. And the manor house in the novel is based on Knole House, where Vita Sackville-West was born and grew up. So, I thought, what better place to head to carry on reading my book under cool, shading, ancient trees?

Some deer came to join my quiet spot, as I sat on an old tree trunk, reading my book.

I later found the deer were prolific - roaming and feeding in groups - as I walked along The Gallops.

My parasol and shoes, tossed aside, felt a fitting photographic homage to the early twentieth-century female authors who documented and loved Knole...

I felt more like ambling in the park than going indoors, and got there a bit late in the day to make it worth going inside the house itself, but I had a quick wander in the courtyards and orangery. 

Knole's origins are actually in the fifteenth century, when it was built for the Archbishop of Canterbury on the site of an earlier house. (Another reason why I wanted to visit, given that my thesis was about historic bishops' palaces.) The Archbishop relinquished ownership of it to the Crown during Henry VIII's general rampage against monasteries and the established Church. It then came into the ownership of the Sackvilles in 1566 and they have lived there since, although Vita Sackville-West was traumatised to see it bequeathed to her male cousin upon her father's death, as she was his sole child and women were not allowed to inherit... It's now run by the National Trust and the public are allowed to access parts of the property.

The wonderful garden can be glimpsed through the orangery windows but is only open on Tuesdays. I think I will have to organise a day off work in order to go and stroll about it... and see the rest of the house, while I'm there.

Even without seeing inside the house, I can see why Vita was heart-broken when the inheritance of Knole passed away from her..

O, Neville

The Google doodle for today is celebrating Edward Gorey's birthday. In my own nod to him, I decided to share my favourite Gashleycrumb Tiny...

For those who don't know, Edward Gorey is a wonderfully strange and macabre American illustrator. Young Neville above is taken from his book The Gashleycrumb Tinies, published in 1963, which recounts the tragically comical deaths of 26 children - one for each letter of the alphabet - in rhyming couplets. If you've not come across it, and you like your humour dark, I'd definitely recommend looking it up.

It's funny that Edward Gorey popped up today as I was just thinking of The Gashleycrumb Tinies the other day. I'd been listening to the Dresden Dolls and picked up my sketch book and a pencil to have a go at drawing up the image brought into my head by the song Mrs O off their album, Yes, Virginia.

Oh, Mrs O

Will you tell us where the naughty children go

Will you show

How the sky turned white and everybody froze

Heaven knows how they got into the fireplace

But everybody's saying grace

And trying to keep a happy face

And oh, Mrs O

Can you teach us how to keep from getting cold

Out we go and you watch us as we face the falling snow

What a show with our hairdryers aimed heavenwards

And fifty-foot extension cords

You really have a way with words...

The end result made me think of Edward Gorey's children, with their Victorian Gothic appearance and dark air.

Obviously, my drawing is a mere scribble of an amateur but I was pleased by the feel of it. Oh, and for the record, I have actually mastered the ability to draw decent faces but I ended up preferring the effect of the blank face on this occasion... Really, it's true!

And for those who don't know the Dresden Dolls, they're a duo from Boston who describe themselves as Brechtian cabaret punk. If that doesn't intrigue you enough to look into them, then probably nothing I say will. 

Image source: www.dresdendolls.com

But if you are intrigued, then Girl Anachronism is a fine place to start. I'll even help you on your way:

Remember, Remember, Plop the Owl

My soundtrack this evening is fireworks bursting, popping, fizzing, whizzing, exploding and rumbling from north, south, east and west, near and far. Oh, I absolutely adore Guy Fawkes Night.

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Living in a wee, tiny flat in the middle of London, I don't really have the option of having a celebratory party in my garden but I can enjoy the fun of unexpected bursts coming from all around me, occasionally catching a glimpse of a shower of stars in between buildings.

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My best Guy Fawkes Night was when I found myself staying out with relatives down near the south coast in a wee village. A massive, massive bonfire was lit in a nearby field and random fireworks went off all evening in the wonderful, still air of the countryside. Every year I think about reprising that night with a trip out to the countryside to partake in a local village bonfire night, but it never seems to eventuate. 

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So, instead I enjoy the sounds of an old tradition in the big, modern city of London which is, in itself, admittedly rather lovely. 

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Guy Fawkes always reminds me of that favourite childhood book too, The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark. Does anyone else know this book? It tells the story of Plop the baby barn owl, who is, as the title suggests, afraid of the dark. He is forced out of the nest to face his fears, and goes on adventures, meeting people and hearing about all the wonderful things the dark can be. The chapter, "Dark is Exciting" is set on Bonfire Night and Plop meets a young boy who is looking forward to the fireworks. In other chapters, Plop discovers that dark is kind, fun, necessary, fascinating, wonderful and beautiful.

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So perhaps my love of both Guy Fawkes Night and owls can partly be attributed to this one book? In any case, my friend Barnaby and I decided to do a wee, impromptu photo shoot inspired by the book in celebration of Guy Fawkes Night. (Note my seasonally appropriate scarf...)

Barnaby and I meet and he begins to tell me his story

I'm shocked to hear that an owl could possibly be afraid of the dark!

And saddened to hear how difficult it is for him.

I convince Barnaby to watch the fireworks with me, and he timidly peeks out as I hold
his wing tight...
Perhaps the dark isn't so bad after all? 

The Great Gatsby (or not-so-Great Gatsby)

First, gut reaction to the Great Gatsby preview? Please, kill me now. Or take me back in time to the 1920s, where I can just read the book again and again without fear of some abomination and perversion of a film coming along and trying to ruin it for me and a million Gatsby lovers.

Who knows, it may grow on me? And I will still go see it, but I may have to pretend that it is in no way connected with the book if I am actually to be able to sit through it. If I am capable of detaching myself and watching it as a Baz Luhrmann film, rather than an interpretation of one of the best books ever written, it may even be possible to enjoy it...

Everyone will be already be asking the same question but... what are your thoughts? I'd love to hear, both those in agreement and those against me!