Cornflower

Boys' own stuff

   

      Regular readers will know that sport appears only rarely on these pages (though I did surprise myself with my 'analysis' of the Calcutta Cup game earlier in the year, and I heartily recommend Lloyd Jones' All Blacks novel The Book of Fame which I wrote about here). But I've just read a non-fiction book about sport, one that will appeal to men particularly (there was a wee bit too much locker room stuff in it for my gentle sensibilities) and whose relevance could extend to anyone engaged in anything competitive and challenging.   

   
     An ethnographer by profession, Mark de Rond spent a season with the members of the Cambridge University Boat Club, and his resulting book The Last Amateurs: To Hell and Back with the Cambridge Boat Race Crew charts very closely their preparation for and participation in the 2007 Boat Race. Over the course of seven months he moved from being - in the words of the CUBC President - impartial observer to comitted squad member, but his allegiance didn't prevent him giving a full and frank account of what is involved in reaching the start line, never mind the finishing post.
     It's a fascinating look at one of the most demanding of sports, one in which each rower must face up to his "inner demons, [his] very own Voldemort"; in which questions of status, identity and sense of self become acute. There is - unsurprisingly - a deal of childishness and immaturity alongside courage and determination; insecurities surface and skills are developed and honed, but always the eyes are on the prize, and the commitment required of each member of the team in order to reach it is enormous.
     When I watch next year's race it will be with a much greater insight and knowledge, and that can only enhance my enjoyment of a fine sporting encounter, but one in which winning is everything.

'Twas a dark and stormy night

     I was interested to read in the press release for Chris Priestley's Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror that this collection of short stories has a "wonderfully gothic tone reminiscent of M.R.James". I've never read James, though I've had him read to me occasionally as a cure for insomnia, and it works every time! But I certainly did not fall asleep while reading Chris Priestley's book which is marvellously dark and quite scary - and not for younger readers.


     Edgar goes to visit his mysterious Uncle Montague in his huge, gloomy house through the woods, and as they settle down to take tea by the fire, so the boy's strange relative tells him tales connected to the objects arranged around the drawing room. As the fog closes in and prevents Edgar walking home, so the accounts continue until in the end, Uncle Montague's own story and how he came by his grim collection is revealed as even more awful than the rest.
     This is tremendously atmospheric, period stuff and kept me turning the pages. The illustrations by David Roberts complement the book's style perfectly and manage to both intensify the mood and lighten it a little at the same time - they remind you this is 'just' fiction! If you've read Susan Hill's superb ghost stories The Woman in Black and The Mist in the Mirror or Charles Palliser's The Unburied, then you'll recognise the general territory that Uncle Montague is set in, and Chris Priestley certainly matches those writers in skill. I have his latest book Tales of Terror from the Black Ship to look forward to for even more spine-tingling reading, and one day maybe I'll even read M.R. James' Casting the Runes and Other Ghost Stories myself!

 

Spindrift

    Carol said, in her comment on yesterday's post, that she's looking forward to seeing my yarn. So am I, Carol, but we might have a bit of a long wait as what came home with me from Houghton Lodge was actually raw alpaca fibre, a huge bag of it!! There it is above, full of dust and burrs and just as it was clipped off Tom, Dick and Harry. If anyone can tell me how best to treat it - should I wash it first, and if so, how, or should I brush it, etc. ? - I'd be very grateful as I don't want to mess it up.


This means, of course, that I'm going to learn to spin, so I've been over to The Yarn Yard where Natalie has the supplies to get me started.


I've now got an Ashford spindle and a braid of soft as anything Bluefaced Leicester Superwash, and Natalie also included some 'spare' fibre as padding for the parcel which will be great to practise with before I move on to the proper stuff.



I've been reading instructions and watching spindling videos, so I'm all set to have my first go today, but I'm keen to learn from all you experts out there so if you have any good tips for a beginner, please let me know!
 

Through the garden gate

     When we were in Hampshire last month we visited Houghton Lodge for a walk round the lovely gardens.



The pictures give a flavour of the grounds of this pretty eighteenth century "cottage ornee" by the River Test, but there was more to our calling in than just a desire to see a beautiful place.



Cutting a long story short, I was there not just to look at the hydroponicum, the puffing topiary dragon, or to discover the Jane Austen connection, 



but to collect something to do with these fellows, Tom, Dick and Harry.


More in the next post on that and on what came in yesterday's post!

Following up

If you haven't already done so, do read all the great comments on yesterday's post. They demonstrate how we range from those with minimalist tendencies where books are concerned to those acquisitive 'clutteralists' one might call them at the opposite end of the scale. Whichever side we tend towards we are not alone!

As to the exhausting dreams, last night's involved H.M. the Queen and the awful realisation that I had been introduced to her and had failed to curtsey. I was mortified!

On the changing of the seasons, I saw the first skein of geese flying south the other day, and for a very fine book about a journey following the birds, read William Fiennes's The Snow Geese.

The Graveyard Book is being consumer-tested by Harriet who is quite taken with it already (we may get a proper review from her at some point), and the more I think about it the more I see the infuence of The Jungle Books which Neil Gaiman mentions as having been so important.

Cauliflower cheese

     In The Kitchen Diaries Nigel Slater says he can live without cauliflower. Nigella Lawson in How to Eat includes cauliflower cheese in the section on feeding babies and small children, but who doesn't relish nursery food from time to time? Sarah Raven's Garden Cookbook gives a recipe for an Edwardian version of the dish with "Lord Dalrymple's top", which is a souffle mixture (interesting), while Jane Grigson in her  Vegetable Book suggests using Gruyere for the sauce.



     I opted to follow another Grigson, Jane's daughter Sophie, when I used her recipe for supper last night. The sauce is made with good Cheddar and Parmesan, enriched with a little cream, spiked with lemon juice and gently spiced with nutmeg. The topping is fine breadcrumbs and more of the Parmesan.



Whether you consider it a savoury course from a grand dinner, a little something on a tray to be eaten by the fire, or a simple kitchen staple, I think it's not without its charms - but as only three out of five of us will eat it, my view is not universally shared!

 

47 to go

"Forty-seven is the 15^th prime number, a safe prime, the 13^th supersingular prime, and the 6^th Lucas prime. 47 is a highly cototient number. It is an Eisenstein prime with no imaginary part and real part of the form 3n − 1. It is also a Keith number, because it recurs in a Fibonacci-like sequence started from its base 10 digits: 4, 7, 11, 18, 29, 47...47 is a strictly non-palindromic number. Its representation in binary being 00101111, 47 is a prime Thabit number, and as such is related to the pair of amicable numbers {17296, 18416}. 47 is a Carol number."

Did you know any of that? I didn't until I read it here (and I haven't a clue what it means!). I happened to read on Terri's blog the other day that there is such a thing as The 47 Society because 47 is "the quintessential random number".

Its significance to me is that it is the number of books in my TBR pile.

We've touched on this before, but I know that most visitors to this site have fairly substantial collections of unread books, that is books waiting in a queue to be picked up when the mood is right and the schedule allows, and I know also that one great friend and very serious reader has no such thing and he is exceptional in this regard, I think. I hope Peter will comment here and tell us a little more about his reading habits because he is not acquisitive like the rest of us, but disciplined and monogamous where some of us are profligate and wantonly promiscuous where books are concerned!

But I wonder if there is a number of books 'TBR' beyond which we will not go. Is 50 the magic number, rather than 47? Do you ever say that enough is enough and ban all further purchases/borrowings until the current mountain has diminished a bit? The knitters amongst us are known to go on what is called a "yarn diet" (though these things are 'flexible' in their interpretation - isn't that so, girls?), is there an equivalent for the bibliophiles?

Now this wasn't engineered, I promise, but while I've been writing this post another book- unsolicited, unexpected - has been delivered to me! (Anyone so minded can discover the significance of the number 48 here).

Booklinks

 

     Books arrive here from all sorts of different sources and I have quite a pile of 'recent acquisitions', both fiction and non-fiction to talk about, but I'll begin with two which are linked in a sort of way, albeit tenuously.


      Mary Cavanagh's novel The Crowded Bed got great reviews when it came out last year, and I've had it in mind to read since then. Mary's second book is here on my desk, flagged on the back as "a truly excellent and page-turning read", and it certainly sounds like it from the blurb. A Man Like Any Other: The Priest's Tale is described by Caro Fraser as "a brilliantly constructed novel. An evocative examination of life, love, loyalty and human frailties". It features Father Ewan McEwan, chaplain of a Cistercian Abbey on the Suffolk coast, but a man who despite his vows and for most of his adult life has conducted a passionate affair with a woman. There's a lot more to it than that, and I'll be reporting back in due course, but the story of the sinning priest and his beautiful lady looks like being a meaty one.


     In what way is that book linked to the other one pictured here, a Jane Austen 'sequel' called The Independence of Miss Mary Bennet? Well, telling Mary's story is none other than Colleen McCullough, and what woman around at the time could forget her huge hit The Thorn Birds. Do you remember Richard Chamberlain on the beach? The sinning Father Ralph, in love with Meggie!
     In this new novel, Colleen McCullough has left the culpable clergyman and the vastness of Australia far behind and is charting the life of Mary Bennet, twenty years after the events of "Pride and Prejudice". With each of her sisters settled in their own way, "events transpire that free Mary from her family obligations and dangle the allurements of independence before her hungry gaze"; " a sparkling romance that shows it is never too late to find love. Funny, tragic and eminently satisfying". There are many Austen sequels around (here's a good post about one of them) but as I haven't read any at all this will be new territory for me. I'll let you know how I get on. 
     

   

Into the graveyard

    Following my rave post on Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book yesterday, I'm delighted to spread the word that thanks to Vanessa and Malcolm at Fidra Books, Neil is coming to Edinburgh next month to celebrate the book's launch. You can get all the details of his event here.

Dream a little dream

 

   
Matisse: The Dream

    Exhaustion this morning after another very active night of dreaming. I seem often to be having a much busier and more strenuous time in my subconscious than in my waking life, going to sleep only to be involved in all kinds of taxing situations which leave me quite drained. What does it all mean, I wonder.
     The other night I was struggling to prevent a situation develop which I knew was ill-advised and I was trying very hard to get the message across. Last night, someone wasn't cooperating and let me down; I was highly aggrieved, though I did get a sheepish apology in the end. Then there are the dreams of unpreparedness such as not having revised for an exam or packed for a holiday, or the ones which involve crying for help and having no voice, or trying to run away and being unable to move. It's all a bit much!


F. C. Robinson: The Bluebird

     In case it sounds as though I daren't drop off for fear of these nocturnal adventures, they aren't all bad, and even the ones that sound bad are more exhausting than frightening, and I do have positively pleasant dreams as well, but what's going on in my head when I have the other kind? Perhaps I should keep a dream diary and try to work it out, or is there a good book which might explain it? Anyway, to go with the pictures from Bridgeman Art Library, here's a nice song on the subject.


Helena Horwitz: Dream of Spring

Sweet dreams!

Fantastic!

     I happened to mention in passing to Bookwitch the other day that I'd never read any Neil Gaiman, then lo and behold through the letterbox, courtesy of Bloomsbury, came his latest, The Graveyard Book, and my thanks to them because it is quite fantastic!
     I'm not going to apologise for going off into cliched raptures about it because I really couldn't put it down, the end moved me to tears and the whole thing just gripped me with childlike delight. Mr. Gaiman is not short of fans but he's got a new one in me as this is going on my 'best reads of the year' list without a doubt, and I can barely write coherently about it as my enthusiasm is too great!

    

    The publicity sheet says that the book will be "Unshrouded in hardback on 31st. October" and that's a nice touch as it is set in a graveyard and features many ghosts (and their wonderful headstone epitaphs), ghouls and other spooky types, but its main character is a real live boy called Bod who is saved from certain death by the occupants of the cemetery and brought up by them and his strange but fascinating guardian, Silas. I need say no more about the plot than that, but though it sounds dark and scary (and parts of it are, though in a good way) it's all done with such warmth, wit and cleverness that it makes for a magical piece.



     I was interested to read in the acknowledgements that Neil Gaiman credits Kipling as a huge inspiration, and this bodes well for our Book Group reading of his stories, but The Graveyard Book itself is beautifully crafted and written with great heart. I absolutely loved it!!

 

Tempted?

All that talk yesterday of berries and so on was just a blind because what we've actually made today is something far from the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness: the pedestrian-sounding but extraordinary Chocolate Biscuit Cake.


This is not everyday stuff as it's very rich and deliciously chocolatey. We've replaced the usual glace cherries with chunks of stem ginger (there it is at the top in its amber syrup, reflecting the camera, and below in all its spicy lusciousness!).



The original version comes from "Green and Black's" Chocolate Recipes and is pretty effortless, but the results are very worthwhile,


from the jewel-studded top, to the crunchy interior; and we included some brandy-soaked sultanas, too



(well, it was a belated birthday cake!)

 

Seasons

   

The change in the season brings with it cravings for different foods. The evenings are getting darker earlier, the morning temperatures are lower and leaves are falling. This dropping off of light and energy triggers internal changes and most obvious of these is the desire for comfort food.

Mushrooms are a favourite of mine, for their dark earthiness and their compatibility with pasta, rice or other starch, but we had them for supper the other night sauteed with garlic, moistened with a little cream and piled on top of good toast.



Mashed potato is another delight of the colder months, and either as it comes or with leek or spring onion added, it is too good to overlook.

As for sweet things, it's time for apple puddings or plum and almond crisp, and anything with blackberries gets my vote. These brambles are in the garden (by accident, not design), as are the rowans, but there isn't enough of either to make anything much with them on their own. I had my first hedgerow blackberry of the year in Hampshire about seven weeks ago, now here are our northern ones only just ready.


Here is Blackberry Picking by Seamus Heaney.

 

Task avoidance

     I'm supposed to be doing something other than this; that is, I am allowing myself to be distracted from the real task in hand which is typing up the minutes of a meeting. So far this morning I have visited a few favourite blogs, had a cup of coffee, played several games of solitaire and read the latest episode of Corduroy Mansions, all displacement activities - I own up! I have made a start on the minutes, doing the preliminary, formulaic bit, but now I'm on to the meaty stuff and having to decipher several A4 pages of my handwritten notes in order to produce a document dense with fact and stylish yet economical in its prose. Because I'd much rather be doing something else I'm having to force myself to get on with it, but doing so on a 'reward' basis - another paragraph or section done earns me a few minutes off to do something more fun. I've just had a browse around for some music to keep me 'on task', and how about that for an excuse for slacking. So far I've had a little dalliance with this favourite, a change of mood with this one, or I could listen to numerous repeats of this, (and for complete silliness there's always this - blame my children). If all that doesn't work I'm going to remember I have a pressing engagement with the ironing board (sorry, the pun wasn't intended!) which will give me a legitimate reason to leave the minutes for a minute.
Back later, I hope, with a proper post, (though at the rate I'm going today I wouldn't hold your breath).

Where am I?

     Where am I reading-wise, that is, and with five books on the go it's a good question, except that they are all sufficiently varied, or complementary, that they fulfil different reading needs very well, and I do know where I am with them.
The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters is perfect to dip into, especially when a laugh is required, and a letter or two before bed makes for a good nightcap.

East Wind Melts the Ice, being a series of seasonal essays, is great to read in real time - a chapter every four or five days. It's a marvellous cross-cultural book, full of fascinating detail, lively, intelligent and always a pleasure to return to.

Zoe Heller's new novel The Believers has me in New York with the Litvinoff family, some utterly ghastly, some rather nicer, and half way through I'm following their various internal struggles and crises with interest. Will it all end in tears? We shall see.

From contemporary America I move back in time to 1860s England and Kate Summerscale's masterly The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: or the Murder at Road Hill House. This is superb non-fiction, an analysis of a real murder case investigated by one of the very first detectives, Jack Whicher, and beautifully done.

That book makes an excellent companion read to another work of detection, Josephine Tey's The Daughter of Time. This features Inspector Alan Grant laid up in a hospital bed but yet investigating the murder of the Princes in the Tower from this supine position and at five hundred years' distance from the events. He has assistance from colleagues and friends, including the glamorous actress Marta, which reminded me rather of James Stewart and Grace Kelly in Rear Window, but it's cracking stuff and highly recommended.

Where are you in your reading? How many books do you have on the go? Are you a bit lost and not getting on fast, or are you strictly monogamous, never reading more than one book at a time?