Senses and Sociability by Steve Way

Via the internet I teach students in Madrid and one student seems to have been infected by the Covid-19 virus. Fortunately, she only had mild symptoms but experienced the curious form of these that had been described in the media of temporarily losing her sense of taste and smell. Once her senses began to gradually return, I asked her how she would describe the experience. There were two things she particularly noticed. One was that whilst the symptoms persisted she ate far more vegetables than usual – we joked that that might have been a habit that speeded up her return to health! – and also, a possibly linked factor, that she became acutely aware and appreciative of the different textures of her food.

I was reflecting on this and about how when writing we might easily neglect aspects of our common experience that we normally more or less take for granted but which could add depth to our writing if we thought to describe them, when by serendipitous good fortune I attended a (virtual!) get together of writers here in south-west France hosted by writer Sarah Gungum. Sarah really encouraged us to focus on how describing the reactions of our many senses – of which she pointed out includes far more than the ‘Famous Five’ – can help illustrate and enhance our work in a multitude of ways.

Not unsurprisingly the topic of the interplay between our senses and our experience of eating came up and I was reminded of the description of the feast the dwarves prepare in Bilbo’s house at the beginning of The Hobbit. Published just before the deprivations of the Second World War and the rationing that followed it, to his readership at the time the description of the sumptuous meal must have been mouth-watering and may have contributed to his audience’s enthusiastic engagement with his wonderful story. The detailed and careful preparation or description of food seems to have been a significant component of many classic children’s books, written in times of less abundance, such as the contents of Ratty’s hamper in The Wind in the Willows and Edmund’s temptation with Turkish Delight in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Nowadays, even if only sub-consciously, I think many of us would worry about the cardiovascular consequences of the feast on the health of Bilbo and his comrades and feel less inclined to focus on the sensory experience of food and eating in our stories. Maybe because nowadays, if we were so inclined, the majority of us could almost daily consume the calorific equivalent of the dwarves’ banquet.

Thinking about this led the other members of the group to speculate about what effect our current dearth of social contact might have, consciously or otherwise, on future writing. Will stories be more likely to include large social gatherings? Will characters more frequently be able to hug and kiss each other… or just (gasp!) shake hands? Instead of endless ‘man walks into a bar’ jokes will there instead be endless ‘man walks into a bar’ novels?

I don’t know what your opinion is – but it’s ‘food for thought’ perhaps? He he.

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On a more serious note, which could be worth consideration regarding post-pandemic writing, might be the long-term psychological effect of ‘lockdown’, particularly on children. One of my other students in Madrid told me about an experience of a friend of hers. As you may be aware in some regards the ‘lockdown’ in Spain has been more restrictive than in the UK and children under the age of fourteen were only allowed outside for the first time in seven weeks last Sunday. Perhaps alarmed by seeing his parents only going outside occasionally for the last month and a half and wearing a mask when they did so, their six-year-old son was terrified by the prospect of going outside. Maybe there’s a place for some stories that make the outside world a relatively safe and exciting place to be most of the time?
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Recent publications; Bongo the Armadillo Volumes 1 -3. 'Surprising things happened to Bongo the Armadillo, usually when he was sitting in his garden having his cup of tea. Short stories with a regular format but quite different 'surprises'. Appealing (though not exclusively) to reluctant readers and useful as a resource to inspire creative writing.

Of Woods and Wood Magic by Steve Gladwin

We have a lot of nice wood in our house, not only a nice carved oak unit for the TV to stand on and a lovely pine book case and desk, but a an alder memorial chest, a wedding mirror in intricate Celtic knot-work carved in lime and a hare mirror of elm complete with ears. These last three were all created by the same wonderful woodcarver, Peter Boyd in Snowdonia, who has carved many such wonders before and since. Years ago, when we held our second storytelling festival here in the Vyrnwy Valley, the alder chest had a companion, the ‘singing head’ chair, made by Peter from the same wood, in the African style. It has the head of Bran the Blessed and after Celia died, I gifted it to my great friend and bardic companion Andy. A year or so after Celia died, we reunited both of these beautiful alder pieces in our show ‘Bright Pretty Things’ at the village hall here in Meifod. It was nice to see them together, inspiring story once again as they were meant to do.

Even though I’ve been a druid pagan for over twenty years, I've never been the sort of person who talks to trees, or even rests my hand on their trunks to hear their gentle rhythm, and as more of a dasher through life with a head constantly over teeming, I'm perhaps unlikely to.

However I did once discover a grove in 2003, which led to my first children’s book and to an enduing relationship with my particular grove of seven. In fact it's still the name I use professionally. There, on a little hill above a sweet chestnut tree blasted by a winter storm, Celia and I discovered it, seven trees stuck into a mound like flourishing cocktail sticks on an upturned orange. There are four flourishing oaks, two great grey beeches and a little ash tucked away on the end behind one of the oaks like a sheltering child with its great dark father. The seven trees soon grew identities and archetypes in my mind; Child, Dark Lord, Warrior, Queen, (later Princess), Bard, Seeker and Mage. And from the depths of the greatest Welsh myths I drew names for them - Pwyll, Gwern, Efnisien, Branwen, Taliesin, Ceridwen and Merlin. If the trees didn’t exactly come to life for me, then they became sort of companions in the background of my inspiration, and I would visit them often to thank them. Still on certain anniversaries connected to Celia, I go to visit and read small sections of the book to her and them. They live for me still as they will I hope for the readers of The Seven, even if they are truly sleeping.

‘At which point, the door in the fifth tree swung open --- and Lucy Morgan stepped out.

She blinked in the darkness, the beautiful singing that had held her until now still spinning around in her mind. She had no idea of where she had been, or how lucky she was to escape.

The real Grove of Seven

So, with the publication of The Seven in 2014 I added my own tiny wood to the great world woods of children’s books. For as long as I can remember, there have been woods to explore in books. This means that even if we don’t decide to venture into them, to avoid their varied dangers and temptations, we can ask books to do it for them. If we wish to stay safe and snug at home in winter, we can rely on Mole and Ratty to be the ones to go into the wild wood in search of Mr Badger while avoiding the weasels, or if we’ve eaten so much we don’t want to budge we can still join Winnie the Pooh and friends on the more gentle adventures of childhood, where everything is always sorted out before tea, which invariably involves honey. If we want to become outlaws, in hiding from the wicked sheriff and his men, we can always venture into the Green Wood to feast and play with Robin and Marion, Little John and Friar Tuck. And of course, when we were little we could make sure we fitted all of this in in time for bed.

‘These woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep.’

Only Robert Frost knew what he was thinking about when he wrote those words, but it is as good a description as any of the magic, and yes the sheer anticipation of childhood. Of course the stories of childhood and of any time are full of desolate shores and turbulent waves, of hidden caves and treacherous mountains as well as deep woods and forests. In The Hobbit, Tolkien takes us on a tour of all of these and more besides, and so onward into The Lord of the Rings. But for all the goblin caves and mines of Moria, Desolation of Smaug and Paths of the Dead, it’s the ancient forests of Mirkwood and Fangorn which have always had the strongest and most dangerous pull for me. Woods and forests are full of scheming stoats and weasels, as well as aggressive giant spiders who don’t take kindly to name calling. Woods and forests have depth on every level, because we can either plunge into them at will to seek adventure, or become lost in them willingly in one giant dare. If we go off the beaten track we know to beware, but that doesn’t stop us going anyway.

I realise I am wandering about a bit here, but that’s what happens when you enter a wood, you start off with an idea of the path you want to take, and then – often quite willingly – get yourself side-tracked.

As children we came to rely on books and TV to lead us happily astray, knowing we could always pick up the journey in the next chapter or episode, safely leaving the cliff hanger until another time. I have no idea how children feel about this nowadays, about the idea and anticipation of re-entering an old wood, or finding a new one you don't know the rules of yet. I can’t be alone in my generation of sixties children remembering just how exciting it felt either to enter a new world through a classic BBC tea time serial, or to reach the end of an episode barely able to breathe, with the thought of the next episode- when we’d get to find out the answer - seeming to be an age away.

And how many of our woodland adventures took place in winter? I’m one of those people who love snow and, because neither Rosie nor I drive, can truly appreciate it. But I’m sure it has a great deal to do with badger’s snug, safe house in The Wind in the Willows, the beaver’s den in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, or the wolves running in The Box of Delights. Snow and woods! What could be a better combination?

And miles to go before I sleep

Of course as children our knowledge of wood and its various properties is necessarily limited. We might scrub around in it, use it to knock up approximate things in woodwork, or rely on other people to use it to keep us warm, but unless we were brought up by people who truly understand it, we don’t know our oak from our elbow. But long before people came to rely on its various properties in classic children’s literature, this classic old English rhyme provided us with a few clues.

Oak logs will warm you well
That are old and dry
Logs of pine will sweetly smell
But the sparks will fly
Birchs long will burn too fast
Chestnut scarce at all sir
Hawthorn logs are good to last
That are cut well in the fall sir

Surely you will find
There's no compare with the hard wood logs
That's cut in the winter time

Holly logs will burn like wax
You could burn them green
Elm logs burn like smouldering flax
With no flame to be seen
Beech logs for winter time
Yew logs as well sir
Green elder logs it is a crime
For any man to sell sir

Surely you will find
There's no compare with the hard wood logs
That's cut in the winter time

Pear logs and apple logs
They will scent your room
And cherry logs across the dogs
They smell like flowers of broom
But ash logs smooth and grey
Buy them green or old, sir
And buy up all that come your way
They're worth their weight in gold sir

That great modern bard Robin Williamson has a wonderful arrangement of this on his album ‘A Glint at the Kindling’, if you want to check it out, but it’s worthwhile having a copy of this most practical of rhymes on hand anyway.

Of course children, unless they are like Peter Pan, grow up. Perhaps if they are truly skilled in the love of wood, they turn their attention to making a living from carving it into beautiful things, like Peter Boyd, or like the wood carver who creates the mandolin in the wonderful song ‘Wood’ by Telling The Bees.

The minstrel takes the instrument and plays –aha

His only job to try and make it sing.

He practices the art of it for days – aha

But this beautiful thing

it gives him to sing

And he sings, How wonderful is wood, is wood -

But in the meantime, however young we might be at heart, and even if we don't have a handy wood or forest nearby, we can find our deep places wonderfully evoked, described and above all kept alive in so many books, and above all - in our minds, where such things will always be.

Yet if you enter the woods

Of a summer evening late

When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed ponds

Where the otter whistles his mate

  

My thanks to the following for providing the inspiration.
Stopping by Woods - Robert Frost
The Way Through the Woods - Rudyard Kipling
The Woodcutter's Song - Old English. Sung by Robin Williamson on his album A Glint at the Kindling. Released in 2005 on Gott Discs with 5 Extra Tracks (The Five Bardic Mysteries)
Wood by Telling the Bees from the album Untie the Wind.
Sadly Telling the Bees have recently split up, but you can find them all over youtube and on their own site.
The Seven - Steve Gladwin - inspiration from the Grove of Seven.
Peter Boyd - You can find many of Peter's wonderful creations on his Peter Boyd Wood Sculptor site.

Finally a bit of fun. I had planned to write this blog about indecision,because I had at least three ideas which I didn't use. I may well use one or more of them in the future, but in the meantime here is a short quiz on what might have been. If you get more than half, help yourself to a biscuit from the nearest tin or its diet friendly equivalent.

The Missing Blogs Quiz

*The Box of Delight was written by John Masefield, but what is his most well known poem?

*The actor Sir Robert Stephens, who played the villain Abner Brown in the BBC TV adaptation of 1984, also played Aragorn in the BBC radio adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, but can you remember who played Sam?

*In Dr Michael Ward's Narnia Code theory, which planet does The Silver Chair represent.

*Which actor voices Aslan throughout the four BBC adaptations of the eighties.

*In the Paddington books, what is the nationality of Paddington's great friend and fellow immigrant, Mr Gruber.

*What is the name of the great cinema organist who Paddington helps out in the story 'Paddington goes to the Cinema?

There you go. You'll find the answers below. And if you fancy a post Christmas treat, the BBC Narnia are available from Amazon seller s for a ridiculous price. Go on now!

​

Steve Gladwin - 'Grove of Seven' and 'The Year in Mind'

Writer, Performer and Teacher

Author of 'The Seven' and 'The Raven's Call'

Answers to the Missing Blogs Quiz

a. Sea Fever. b. It was Bill Nighy (as William Nighy). c. The Moon. d. Ronald Pickup. e. Hungarian. e. Mr Reginald Grove in 'Paddington Helps Out'.

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SECONDS

JANUARY'S AUTHOR by Sharon Tregenza

J.R.R. TOLKIEN

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa on the 3rd of January 1892.

He spent most of his earliest years in Africa and an incident when he was bitten by a tarantula is reported to have influenced his later work. His father, Arthur Tolkien, was an English banker who died of rheumatic fever after his family had left to return to England. This meant the grieving family had to struggle on a limited income.

An avid reader, Tolkien was influenced by some of the great writers of the time like G.K. Chesterton and H.G. Wells.

He contracted trench fever in World War 1 and in 1917 was sent back to England to recuperate. That was the end of Tolkien's war service and the beginning of his writing career. He'd begun to create his own language based on Finnish and Welsh and a mythology to support it. This is the work that eventually resulted in his famous books.

He'd married Edith Bratt in 1916 and about this time the first of his four children was born. He continued his mythology while a professor at the University of Leeds.

"The Hobbit" came out in 1936.

Tolkien was now a professor at Oxford. The story goes that he was grading exam papers one evening, opened an exam booklet and found the first-page blank. It seemed like an invitation to write and he famously scribbled "in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit".

The finished manuscript arrived at the desk of the publishers Allen and Unwin. Unwin paid his ten-year-old son a shilling to read it. Luckily the boy loved the story and "The Hobbit" soon became a best seller.

In the late 1930's Tolkien began writing "Lord of the Rings"

It was published in three parts and the trilogy also became a massive publishing success.

Five interesting facts about Tolkien's work:

1. He used just two fingers to type the whole of the 1,200 pages of text for the books.

2. Christopher Tolkien, his son, didn't like the "Lord of the Rings" books.

3. Although Tolkien said that the books could be seen as a reference to historical events - they weren't intended to be allegorical.

4. Christopher Lee, who played Saruman in the films, had read the "Lord of the Rings" every year for over forty years.

5. The Beatles tried to make a film of "Lord of the Rings" starring themselves but Tolkien wasn't keen. That would have been a very different film. 

Email: sharontregenza@gmail.com

Website: www.sharontregenza.com

Twitter: @sharontregenza

Homes and Gardens by Savita Kalhan

No, this isn't a blog about how to give your home or garden a makeover - unless you want it to look like it came out of a book!

A few weeks ago I was sent an email by a company asking me to put a link on my website for their company. At first I was interested. The company appeared to be a publisher and publiciser of books and ebooks. But it was only after I received a second email that I followed the link that had been sent to me and realised that they were in actual fact a curtain and upholstery company. Needless to say, I won't be advertising their company on my website because most people come to my site for information about me rather than who I'd recommend to make their new curtains! But for some reason the website did have a page on fictional homes, which was quite intriguing and gave me the idea for this blog...

Homes and gardens feature significantly in literature. There are homes that would be amazing to live in, others that I'd want to visit, and some that I'd only look at from a distance! Here are some of my favourites.

Top of my list is Bag End in The Hobbit. Bag End is a Hobbit-hole, but it is definitely no dirty, smelly hole in the ground. It's a place of warmth and comfort, a smial as Tolkien calls it, and it has always brought a smile to my face. Given the choice, I'd definitely make an offer on this property!

Location: Bagshot Row, Hobbiton, The Shire

The owner: Bilbo Baggins. Bag End was built to a luxuriously high standard by Bilbo's father Bungo Baggins for his wife, Belladonna Took.

Specs: countless rooms all situated on one floor with original features, panelled walls, tiled floors, polished furniture, round windows with views over lush gardens and meadows. There are ample pantries, large wine cellars, and several guests rooms. Bag End is a cosy property in an idyllic setting amongst green fields and orchards. Be prepared for the unexpected visitor - short of stature, wide of girth, possibly wielding an axe, or an exceedingly tall gentleman dressed in grey robes, who may lead you astray!

The Hobbit was one of my favourite books when I was young, and it still is, so Bag End is full of memories for me. I would very happily live there, and being only five foot tall, I would have no problems with the low ceilings, although Tolkien does tell the reader that taller visitors would have no problems, so perhaps the ceilings are actually not as low as people might think.

Misselthwaite Manor in The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett has over a hundred rooms, but I'm not sure I'd like to live in such a huge property, and with a recent death in the family, a shadow hangs over the manor. It's the gardens that hold all the allure - from their winter bleakness to their summer bloom.

Location: Yorkshire.

Owner: Archibald Craven. Occupants: Colin Craven, Mary Lennox, Martha Sowerby and Ben Weatherstaff.

Both the house and the garden are full of secrets, which Mary gradually uncovers. She finds a key in the garden, and it unlocks not only a door, but other hidden secrets too. I loved the book when I read it many years ago. I wanted to find a key that would open hidden doors. I wanted a garden like the one in the book. I still love exploring old houses and gardens, and making up stories about them - I suspect I still haven't grown up yet!

Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy Maud Montgomery, was about a young orphan girl adopted by brother and sister Marilla and Mathew Cuthbert. It was set in a small farming community and followed Anne and her adventures as she tried to make this place her home.

Location: Green Gables, Avonlea, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, Canada

Occupants: Marilla Cuthbert, Matthew Cuthbert, Anne.

Green Gables is a farmhouse surrounded by orchards and fields and woods, with a view over the Lake of Shining Waters and the Haunted Wood.

Avonlea and Prince Edward Island have become a tourist attraction by developing the area based on Montgomery's books, but I don't need to see the actual place where Anne Shirley grew up, or sit in the real Avonlea and drink raspberry cordial soda. Green Gables and the trials and tribulations of Anne Shirley have a special place in my memories.

Hill House in The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, is definitely not a place I'd like to live in. I'm not sure I even want to visit it. "Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it has stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more." So you can understand why I might only look upon it from a great distance, but venture no closer!

Location: Remote, near the village of Hillsdale.

Occupants for the summer: Dr. John Montague, an anthropologist with an interest in the paranormal, and Luke Sanderson (heir to the house). Staying visitors: Eleanor and Theodora, Mrs. Montague and Arthur Parker - all share an interest in the supernatural.

In daylight, the house seems like any other large house. Surrounded by large gardens, pretty paths, bubbling brooks, and a cosy living room with an open fire to retreat to when the light begins to fade. But do not be fooled.

I probably read this book too young. No, I definitely read this book too young, which is why very large empty houses on huge estates hold no appeal to me - especially at night. I would never live in Hill House even if it was going for a song, but if you have a special interest in haunted houses then this is the one you should consider - just be prepared for creaking doors, strange cold spots, and the occasional bump in the night!

My website - savitakalhan.com
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