We live in Mid-Wales and we're very lucky that our way of life has hardly been affected, save for there being a counter in front of the local shop and taking less trips into town. People have worn masks in our village, and not worn them. People of all ages have been out more and have been far more friendly and open, and, yes - relaxed. Our local Morrison's in Welshpool, has delivered a wonderful service every time we have been there - part efficiency and part empathy. The staff, so often stuck on their checkouts and behind counters, seem to have come into their own, sharing with all of us in this big, strange adventure, while knowing, as we do, that we are among the fortunate ones, because Mid Wales has been one of the least affected places so far - touch wood.
But, as for most people, the experience of being in the midst of Covid 19 has left some psychological damage, as well as providing the odd unexpected treat or bonus. So here are a few of the good and the bad of what I have learned since Mid-March.
Not everyone can use Zoom
Whereas my monthly carer's group have been holding Zoom sessions for three months now, its easy, because the group is led by two trained professionals. On the other hand, our Welshpool group.'Bereaved Friends', of which I am one of the only two founder members remaining, has no easy resource like Zoom to bring us together. Most of our members - most of them elderly - will probably never be able to meet up again, unless we do something through telephones.
Easy Rider
The local bus is well organised with clear mask instructions and places marked where we cannot sit. However, there are still several familiar faces missing, either elderly, or disabled in some way. The rest of the elderly passengers have now returned, but are mostly using the short distance bus from Guilsfield. I know my friends are OK, but I miss our chats and check-ins. And knowing that makes me feel worse about my bereaved friends - knowing as I do from my own experiences of bereavement, that its those check-ins in particular that you miss the most.
Let it Go
The biggest thing which both Rosie and I have had to come to terms with, is that the project on change and loss, which I have been skirting around the edges of for the last twelve years, is not going to happen. I have invested an awful lot of time in this - not least in stress, but Covid makes even an adapted version of the idea, next to impossible any time. That, naturally, has left a big gap in its place, especially where we were working so hard on our new website. All that, however, can be adapted, and won't got to waste.
No sense!
My life-time struggles with dyspraxia have become worse since we started all this and I began taking Statins. I am also suffering from severe lethargy made worse by the heat and making its next to impossible to do anything apart from read, before the sun has the chance to kick in with its disabling and draining rays. Even writing this is a bit of a struggle as well, since you ask.
Right, that's me well and truly depressed. Now, let's cheer me up.
Here are a few things which have kept me sane.
Reading on Kindle
I buy far too many 99 pence bargains on kindle and never seem to get to read most before finding the next day's bargain. I am also prone to huge enthusiasms, getting all excited and then more or less abandoning an idea. Reading one book on Greek myth from the goddess Circe's woman's point of view, led me to eight more. But then I did enjoy every one, and have at least started the poem I had in mind in the first place.
Reading with Pages
Of course, I also read actual books - with covers and paper pages and everything. Its taken me a while to get round to books I've been meaning to etc, but generally I find that the books you leave for ages - and the same goes for films- soften end up being much more than just worth the wait. Certainly in the last two instances of Prof Bob Curran's book on 'Dark Faeries', and John and Caitlin Matthews long-awaited tome on The Elucidation- the mysterious prologue to the grail story and its continuations- have both had me wishing I had had even half of that information, before working on other books.
Small publishing
I can't pretend to have done a lot of writing during this enforced exile, but doing so when I do, still makes my heart sing. Having not had anything published since our book 'The Raven's Call' in 2016, I was delighted to have my first short story published in an anthology in May, only for the small enterprise then to go belly-up almost the day after. All of this confusion didn't change my being published and paid for my story one iota. Instead it led to some interesting speculative conversation with my friend and fellow writer, who had put me on to this in the first place. More importantly, I still have a published jazz-themed fantasy story about jazz called 'Plays Like The Greats', which was inspired by and composed to the strains of the great Ben Webster.
The Giant that became a Dwarf
Apart from the possible opera book/blog which I mentioned last month and has now reached 18,000 words, I did finish a book, but it wasn't the one I'd expected. Instead, I somehow managed to reduce a big idea and a big book of 160,000 words to a simple novella with one idea of 20,000. This was as much of a surprise to me as anyone, especially as the short version was more of an experiment than anything. But, as my trial readers seem to like it, who know what will become now of the other 140,000 words! Answers, on a small postcard, please.
And, when I'm not writing, or watching operas - forty six and counting?
A Mass of Voices
Ah, the wonder of the human voice. Rather like my kindle habit, the audio one became severe, yet somehow I became somewhat becalmed in some oasis of inactivity, leaving Stephen Fry's 'Sherlock Holmes' at 'The Greek Interpreter', and Michael Kitchen not even halfway through Michael Dibdin's Aurelio Zen novel, 'Rat King'. For some quite unaccountable reason I had only stumbled past the first chapter of David Mitchell's second volume of Observer ranting. And, having so much enjoyed Martin Jarvis' reading of the first William book, why on earth am I taking so long to begin the first Audible mega collection. I am, converrsely, having no difficulty - even with this pesky dyspraxia - keeping up with the first Dad's Army and 'I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue' collections. Although the latter is nowhere near as good as the original, because - hard as they try - you have to see Arthur Lowe prat falling to remember how good he was. (He was also one of the best and most convincing comedy drunks ever!)
Good as all these are, they all pale in comparison to hearing Anton Lesser read Philip Pullman's Sally Lockhart books. Yes, after I'd seen off Michael Kitchen and Zen- with the former's legendary disdain for full-stops and paragraphs, in favour of running the whole thing together, but, somehow, none the worse for it, I decided it was time for a real treat, and because we'd already heard Bernard Cribbins reading both Pooh books, (Uniquely his Eeyore appears to be Alan Bennett long before the latter's famous recording of Pooh) it had to be Anton!
It appears, from what little I've heard, that there are three ways of doing an audio. The first of these is essentially to vary your own voice and use your considerable skills as an actor/storyteller, to make the narrative drive enough. Then there are the Antons and Stephens and Sams and Miriams and Martins and Bernards who have a field day coming up with a voice for every character. Anton is especially good at cold-hearted villains of both sexes, and I would give money not to bump into his Mrs Holland in A Ruby in the Smoke. Stephen Fry - obliged to give us a permanent and somewhat bluff Doctor Watson, as he, gentle reader, is our narrator, can do convincing women fairly well too, but then he can surely do anything, beginning with an astonishing and totally convincing Scouse murderer, whose confession takes up an entire chapter in one of the Holmes stories. Sam West is Sam West, whose voice and delivery, not only at times recall the measured delivery of his father Tim, but immediately transport you to the realm of some of the great narrators of documentary, such as Hugh Falkus, Andrew Sachs or Nigel Anthony. His is a voice which seems to speak out the planets. He also has lots of fun reading Philip Pullman's Grimm Tales, and is also brilliant at nasty characters.
I would happily listen to Juliet Stevenson read the phone book, but must confess to investing in her reading of The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock. just so I could hear her saying all those dirty things. Then of course, there's the irrepressible and bounlessly egoed Miriam Margolyes, who would have had a whale of a time with poor Mr Hancock, but decides instead to give the listener a unique insight into how she sets about characterising and recording Bleak House. But then she's clearly an expert from all her stage work on Dickens' women. Anton Lesser himself has recorded all of the Dickens books for Naxos and also does Matthew Shardlake. And everyone knows how good Martin Jarvis is at William.
TV, or not TV.
Well not, as it turns out, as most of what we watch on the big screen is either in the form of film or DVD box sets, or a great deal of what's on i-player. This includes the cricket highlights, (when its not been rained off, or stopped for bad light) and the fascinating documentary 'The Edge', about how the 2009 test team under Andrew Strauss and coach Andy Flower, set out to become the best in the world - and the legacy of retirements and breakdowns that followed five years later. We also watch a lot of comedy, especially stand-up and now and then catch other things. I absolutely loved The Marvelous Mrs Maisel, with its terrific scripts, shamelessly filthy stand-up sequences and a quite wonderful ensemble cast. Watching this and other dramas, including Shakespeare has made me realise that what really makes a drama is its dualogues. Mrs Maisel is chock full of great dualogues, and, as in Shakespeare, has not just one, but two pairs of gloriously mismatched protagonists. When I think back to my short journey in screenwriting, it was writing the two actor stuff I got the most out of.
At last it's time for -- RESEARCH
I've got shelves full of stuff I've always said I would read, not so much novels, but stuff I've always meant to read about and study, piles of books of traditional tales which I always meant to make part of my repertoire, stuff on myth and faerie and different versions of the Mabinogion and all the rest of it.
Something odd happened the other day, because for some reason I started reading some of it, before adding to it via the cursedly cheap and easily available kindle. It began with the women of Troy and Madeleine Miller's quite wonderful Circe and then, via the damsels of the wells of the Grail myth 'Elucidation', slipped right into faerie where I am at the moment. This is complete contrast to my other reads of Hilary Mantel's 'The Mirror and the Light' and Billy Connoly's 'Tall Tales and Wee Stories.' Thomas Cromwell certainly has his moments of wry amusement and ribald wit, but I rely on the Big Yin for actual jokes.
There's also plenty on Audible which is free, and having saved lots of stuff yonks ago, I've discovered a real gem - this being a very good thirty part pod cast series about Alfred Hitchcock, which I am trying to visit daily.
Oh, and we go for walks of course, even if they're more familiar, than strike-out -adventurous. We have familiar routes, but the glorious times when we could go and sit on a bench on the A495 and enjoy the small and quiet amount of traffic, are long gone. So, its back to feeling like your legs are going to get cut off if you stretch them too far out.
So, all in all, lock-down has been relatively kind to us, taking away a few possibly outdated, or ill-thought-out things, but providing a whole host of diversions and a couple of fresh original things to keep me going.
I should also not forget the practice of sophrology, which - one way or another - has been adding to my life and spirit since last September, even considering a temporary three-week sulk and stopped doing it around June. Its like mindfulness, but easier and the exercises are both shorter and more active. It's certainly a both positive and easy thing to add to an artist's repertoire of therapeutic lock-down strategies. Oh, and its not just for lock-down either. It's there whenever you want it and the Swiss, French and Belgians have been keeping it a secret now for long enough. Here's the best link in town if you want to find out more.
Coming Soon!
For the next two months I will be back to the interviews with a two-part interview with Hugh Lupton, Master Storyteller, Writer and a whole lot more. Among the subjects we'll be covering are his years as a solo storyteller and with The Company of Storytellers, The Storytelling revival of the 1970's, the many years of Storytelling in the Landscape courses he's run with Eric Maddern at the Ty Newydd writers centre, and his two recent books, 'The Assembly of the Severed Head', his reconstruction of not just the Mabinogion tales, but the way they were written, and 'The Ballad of John Clare.'
PS Because I know people care about such things, here are the other books I read about women in Greek Myth.
Circe by Madeleine Miller, Black Sails before Troy by Rosemary Sutcliff, The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker, Ten Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes, Helen's Daughter by Frances Thomas, The Penelopiad by Margaret Attwood and most recently The Children of Jocasta by Natalie Haynes. Next - The King Must Die by Mary Renault. Further suggestions welcome.
2 comments:
Phew! That's quite a round up, Steve, and a great deal to ponder upon. Thanks!
It started off short, Sue. I Do try!
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