lazybeds

If you were brought here by my recent invitation the poem I referred to is in Alice Walker's "Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful" which is a book I have been given once and bought a number of times but there is never a copy in the house, because I keep giving to people and then hear nothing about whether they liked it or not, which is fine. Anyway, she has this poem in which she celebrates her friends and the original quote is "I will not think any less of you if you do not come to this meeting." In the same poem another friend is celebrated for knowing "that the sound of a woman coming (and probably not through the rye, either - Ed.)is better than the sound of a B52" which is a very Woodstock quote but none the worse for that.I think that deliberate celebration of friends is a good project because, if you don't do it, there is a fair chance that a funeral (yours or theirs)will come in the way. There is another problem - the need put it on record occurs to you most sharply if they become seriously ill and then you don't want to do it because it may make them think "I am on the way out this time - here they all are with their premature obituaries, I wish they would leave me in peace." So I think Walker had it right, get on with it now.

If you were brought here by my recent invitation the poem I referred to is in Alice Walker's "Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful" which is a book I have been given once and bought a number of times but there is never a copy in the house, because I keep giving to people and then hear nothing about whether they liked it or not, which is fine. Anyway, she has this poem in which she celebrates her friends and the original quote is "I will not think any less of you if you do not come to this meeting." In the same poem another friend is celebrated for knowing "that the sound of a woman coming (and probably not through the rye, either - Ed.)is better than the sound of a B52" which is a very Woodstock quote but none the worse for that.I think that deliberate celebration of friends is a good project because, if you don't do it, there is a fair chance that a funeral (yours or theirs)will come in the way. There is another problem - the need put it on record occurs to you most sharply if they become seriously ill and then you don't want to do it because it may make them think "I am on the way out this time - here they all are with their premature obituaries, I wish they would leave me in peace." So I think Walker had it right, get on with it now.

You make something, as an artist, a poet,a cook,a project manager or whatever. You are inclined to think it is a good piece of work and there was even some excitement as you completed it. It gave you pleasure to review it, to hold in in your hands, to read it through, to taste it, its intrinsic properties blending with the thrill of having created something.

And then you submit it to a body of critics - your circle of friends, the people at table,the committee, the review pages of the newspapers,and their appreciation is somewhat restrained. Maybe there is puzzlement, or the subject is changed quickly and politely.

I had this once with a poem. Untypically, it buzzed me awake at 4 a.m., three images wrapped round a pre-occupation, and later fell into a very satisfactory shape, at least to my mind. I shared it with friends. Mystification, embarrassed coughing, quick slide to a new topic. Though I would read it from time to time for my own enjoyment, it was put aside under a cloud of doubt about its value to anyone else.

Then, a year or two later I showed it to the tutors at a poetry course and they liked it a lot. I also heard from a friend abroad that on reading she had been overcome with tears thought she did not understand a word of it. My baby!

Question is, how do you know when and when not to back your own judgment? These friendly critics are really important to me for their honest feedback. With poetry the solution is fairly easy - you put it in the drawer for a long time and then have a fresh look at it. With other things it is far from straightforward. At any rate I guess it is a special blend of humility and sheer stubborn-ness.

I like this quote from George Monbiot:

"Trouble-making is a costly nuisance, a drain on public resources, an impediment to the smooth functioning of government. It is also one of the only means by which our political leaders can be forced to address the concerns of the excluded, the dispossessed or, indeed, anyone who does not number among their target voters."

This chimed in with reading Paul Robeson's essays in "Here I Stand" where he chides the Gradualists, those who looked for incremental improvements in civil rights through patience and a growth in understanding.

I think the nature of the stushie is really important. I am suspicious of actual revolutions since they seem usually to bring in something worse than the status quo ante. At the other end the doctrine of "always keep a hold of nurse, for fear of finding something worse" just will not wash. These days I am a bit muddled about how to navigate between these extremes. Clarification work needed.

Through the naked trees
The winter burn is a string
Of grey green jewels

The bleak public discourse about education persists. Nadine Cole of Girls Aloud, reflecting the drivel that has become increasingly respectable, says that you have to accept that some kids are just not going to be as bright as others. When I read this, alongside the same sort of thing from from ”professionals”, I remember Anthea. It was 2nd year RE and I had posed the question: Why did Jesus tell his disciples to keep quiet about the miracles? Blank looks all around and then Anthea’s hand went up. This caused an expectant hush since she just never volunteered anything and had a problematic stammer. (We teachers had, in our perceptive way, dubbed her as not very bright.) She went bright red, stammered and stopped. We all waited for her to try again - and the wave of encouraging patience was coming from the whole room, not just me. After two or three tries, she got it out. I can’t remember the detail now, but it was a simple exposition of the concept that Professor Barret called the Veiled Messiah, with the additional insight that in the fragile early stages of communication aimed at developing significant relationships, tentative and obscure gambits may be used. I was stunned. For the rest of term she made no other contribution. It was a brief and brilliant volcanic eruption. I heard later that she had taken certificate RE in 3rd year but had made rather a hash of it, because her writing skills were poor. She is just one example - so don’t give me any crap about ability. We don’t know what we are sitting on top of.

Mention of back stairs in old houses the other day reminded me of a tragi-comic incident years ago in Islay. The old manse had back stairs with the additonal oddity that they had a door at the top. Which was fine if you knew about it. 80 year-old visitor Mrs Tregunna was heading for the bathhroom, opened the wrong door and stepped into the void. Alerted by the slowly decelerating series of thuds we rushed to the scene. She was OK but a little bemused. The most immediately alarming thing were the loud wails of her husband who, reasonably enough, reckoned that she would not have survived the fall. That must have been some experience for the old lady as the brain hurriedly advanced draft hypothesis after draft hypothesis of explanation. Anyway, Dad made a virtue out of bolting the stable door by eliminating the stairwell, thus extending the bathroom on the upstairs and making a cute cupboard for the hoover below. Interestingly, this is the only domestic adaptation he made as a result of an accident. The many others (stories for another day)he just did for the hell of it.

Sad but not unexpected day when Blair announces the continuance of Trident for ever and ever amen. I sometimes think the world is being run by weans, but then I think of the weans I know and their approach is so much more sensible, mature, imaginative, responsible etc. etc.than that bunch of pipsqueaks, arseholes and hangers on. And the sickening silence and acquiescence of MPs - lots of jokes and childish put-downs in the Commons as they decide to continue with the most barbaric weapon imaginable - making us all suicide bombers. And this crap about reducing the number of warheads - Genocide Lite. Anyone know any good countries that would take me?

Sad but not unexpected day when Blair announces the continuance of Trident for ever and ever amen. I sometimes think the world is being run by weans, but then I think of the weans I know and their approach is so much more sensible, mature, imaginative, responsible etc. etc.than that bunch of pipsqueaks, arseholes and hangers on. And the sickening silence and acquiescence of MPs - lots of jokes and childish put-downs in the Commons as they decide to continue with the most barbaric weapon imaginable - making us all suicide bombers. And this crap about reducing the number of warheads - Genocide Lite. Anyone know any good countries that would take me?

Re-reading Solzhenitsyn's The First Circle and am able to clarify for myself what I like about his work. I don't think of it as reading the work of a genius, whatever the blurbs on my edition say. There are many annoying features, such as the sexism and the snobbery, as well as a certain rawness and clumsiness in the narrative. The flaws do not matter, mainly because what counts is the humanity of it all, the richness and honesty of the human description, the ability to make a world for the reader in which you can live. The characters (full of flaws and frailties) become your friends and familiars. You are in a ethos in which weak human beings are valued and accepted, which is not a bad place to be, when you are sixty-one and occasionally prone to looking back.