English was my favourite subject by a long way. I went to a very normal State school with an excellent English department. The staff there encouraged my natural love of creativity and communication using language.
In this week of a puzzling, to many, decision by nearly 51% of the American electorate to give Donald Trump a second crack at being U.S President, I was sent a copy of a letter by an old school friend. He is equally obsessed by English. Below is his letter to The Age, an Australian Newspaper.
In the Charles Dickens novel Martin Chuzzlewit, (1843), one of the characters asks,: “f I was called upon to paint the American Eagle, how should I do it?” His companion replies,” Paint it like an eagle, I suppose.”
“No that wouldn’t do for me. I should want to draw it like a bat for its short-sightedness,, like a bantam for its bragging, like an ostrich for its putting its head in the mud. And like a phoenix for its power of springing anew from the ashes of its faults and vices and soaring up into the sky.”
While the American electorate were acting like bats and ostriches, Donald Trump somehow managed to transform himself from a bantam into a phoenix. Except as everyone but the American people know, the phoenix isn’t real it’s a myth. Meanwhile the American Eagle’s future is more uncertain than ever.
David Pullen
Martin Chuzzlewitt, fictional character created by Charles Dickens could have made this observation yesterday. From abroad it feels like a cousin ( The U.S) has entered into a relationship that outsiders can see is not healthy.
Is the last line of a poem that has shaped my thinking ever since I first read it.
The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost.
I have always known that any decision taken, sets me on a certain path. There is always an alternative.
Poetry resides in Autumn for me, possibly because of this poem. A Yellow Wood speaks to me of Autumnal colour changes.
This poem suggests that free will and decision making go hand in hand. That is not always my experience. Pragmatism is often the path of choice. No matter how verdant the alternative seems. Regardless , right now I have chosen the path of more poetry. Two books, quickly reserved on my Library App.
A poem or two before bed will be my new Autumnal habit.
A classic ponder for a Friday. Covid has darkened our doors this week with 50% of the human household out of action sequentially. 100% in total. So not a huge amount of out and aboutage for us. I have chosen not to walk the dogs locally as it is impossible not to meet someone to talk to. I have not been alone, an autobiography of Adrian Edmondson and a biography of Alexander McQueen have kept me occupied. Both creative. interesting and somewhat troubled men at times. On a brighter note the David Austin Rose catalogue popped into my email, this is the inspiration for todays blog.
I chose a climbing rose for the yard and have ordered a bare root to be delivered in November. I chose it on sight and smell. The name in my opinion is rather ugly.
Unknown to me Crepuscule means sunset in French. Living in the west of England I have learned to love a good sunset. Where I grew up in the flat East of England sunsets were something that happened elsewhere.
Sunset over Plymouth Sound.
Just a little googling found an even uglier word for something quite so lovely.
Sunnansetlgong was the term for sunset in Old English while the word sunset meant West.
Both perfectly understandable. In looking this up I got the usual targeted online advert. My answer would be
I don’t know that I value so much, as rely on my ability to stick to a commitment once I am commited even if the task or project seems a little beyond what other people might need or expect of me. Until recently I would describe this ability as ‘goat-like’ meaning that no matter what the job, it would be completed. Maybe not elegantly or with style but with confidence and determination. With the diligence that goats show when taking difficult paths. In recent times Goat has come to mean something entirely different. Greatest Of All Time.
Now that, may I say is not how I would describe myself.
The nuance of my interactions with people changes outrageously with this new Goatish accolade.
” Would you like help with that shopping”
” No , don’t worry, I am a goat”
Meaning ‘I am fine the bags are balanced and are not too heavy’
Or
“Leave me, I am the Greatest of all time at carrying shopping without a scintilla of modesty”
Language is an evolving and perplexing creature.
However I think the world would be a better place if Goat stood for, Gets Onwith A Task.
I had a wordy struggle earlier this week. I was caring for a small person who is just under two. She has started to push boundaries and it is rather dull to keep saying no or suggesting that her behaviour is naughty. I came up with the word ‘sensible’ to express a better way of doing things.
With safety in mind the word worked, but the free spirit in me challenged myself, how sad that sensible needs to be applied to someone so young. But safety is essential.
Sensible says ‘do not stroke the bee’s bottom’ but most of us can empathise with the urge to do so.
Where is the fun in an overused word when a rarely used word has been tapping at my brain for more than 37 years.
The term matrescence was created in the 1970s by an anthropologist, Dana Rafael who suggested the name for the period from conception to the child’s early years. She also suggested that matrescence was possibly a life long series of changes for women.
By the late eighties and early nineties there had been enough research for there to be a degree of knowledge around the changes that affected me, but the negatives, post partum depression, forced insomnia and exhaustion were quite rightly the headline issues.
Back to the odd question of the day and why I chose to subvert it .
Yesterday I went for an evening walk in a coastal graveyard, the under research or understanding of matrescence, a word that few people use, became a little clearer to me.
This is the backside of the grave of a woman called Jane who died in a small coastal community 200 years ago. Also listed on her grave were 3 of her dead infants, none of whom survived beyond 1 year old. The most recent infant death occurred 1 month before her own death. Her husband was also buried in the same grave but had lived a more normal lifespan. Just surviving childbirth was enough 200 years ago.
Even 100 years later things were not much improved in poor communities. But 50 years later in the 1970s, motherhood and infancy were not such a risky business and Matrescence got a name and some academic study.
Women and their babies stood a good chance of surviving and thriving, so the less critical to life changes, were being observed, considered and written about. Absolutely a good thing, but in 1970 Dana Rafael suggested that the changes were likely to be lifelong and that at key points puberty, menopause and later life women are likely to have more changes if they also have ongoing matrescence.
These 3 intersections of womanhood have barely been researched.
Around 50 years after Matrescence got a name, Dr Will Courtenay put Patrescence on the academic table. The effect of parenthood on men.
Now men have some skin in the game I wonder where the available research funding will go?
What does history suggest?
Pondering in a coastal graveyard, it makes me think. See link below.
Spring really is dragging its heels a bit. Sundays tease us with some sun but then the rain and the greige return. I am lucky that every day I get to visit an art exhibition first thing in the morning. I get to appreciate the dank beauty of a West Country winter by checking out Clare Rogers Dartmoor trees; whilst being grumpy about the misery of a dank spring.
I’ve even made casseroles and meat pies this week like a woman trying to perk up January.
There is a point to my wet weather moaning. I deliberately took a different route home yesterday to maximise walking in less exposed, weather whipped paths . I came to these building works boards and actually read the notice attatched.
Suddenly my grey old day was filled with Razzle Dazzle.
Dazzle paint was developed by the artist Norman Wilkinson and used on ships in the First and Second World Wars to confuse the eyes of the enemy.
Dazzle isn’t camouflage: it was realised very early on that it would be impossible to give a ship one paint scheme that would hide it in all the environments it would sail through. Instead, the geometric shapes made it difficult to visually assess the class, distance, position and movement of ships, thereby making it difficult to Thus the term “Dazzle” or “Razzle Dazzle” was used to target. describe the paint schemes. The marine artist Norman Wilkinson came up with the theory that the appearance of a ship could be altered by painting it in high contrast colours. Angular lines were used to make the work of a range finder difficult.
The dazzle schemes played with light and dark, the concept of countershading being used: parts of the ship that would naturally be shaded- under guns and overhangs – were painted bright white so as to hide the shape of the shadow. The same principle was used in reverse for parts that were usually cast in light. Tops of gun barrels would be painted in darker shades than the bottoms. White was usually used for masts because white would blend in with the sky in many situations. The decks of ships were also painted, to disguise it when the ship was listing heavily. All parts of ships tended to be painted, from funnels to guns to boats.
Dazzle-painted ships constituted the world’s largest public art and design display ever assembled. It’s legacy lives on and around the world Dazzle has been applied to buildings, cars, clothes and shoes, and continues to influence art, design and fashion. Investigations continue as to how Dazzle can be adapted for practical uses in non-military settings.
All fascinating stuff and thrillingly I get to use a new word in my next sentence. Thanks Google.
Norman Wilkinson with Dazzle in hand.
Norman Wilkinson was not just a camoufleur.
He also designed travel posters, which I love
All in all a rainy day with unexpected purpose.
Clare Rogers is exhibiting at Ocean Studios until and including Easter Sunday.
I can be a bit grumpy when a word gets misused, literally is one such word which is both over used and inappropriately used at times. It was a surprise to me to find a whole new word this week that sounds the same.
Littoral…
But before I get onto my new word an anecdote about being taken literally.
I had talked to a patient for a little while who was about to have a breast examination. To conclude the chatting part of the appointment I said, while gesticulating to a stool in the corner of the room.
” O.K that’s lovely, if you could just pop your top on there, we can get on”
I gave her a moment while I finished writing my note. When I looked up she was nowhere to be seen. When I stood up there was an awkward sight.
She had knelt on the floor and arranged her two naked breasts on top of the stool.
Which is a huge amount more interesting than my littoral story.
Which involves a large bug . You can’t possibly know that he was a large bug because I failed to put another object in the photo for scale. He was probably as long as a finger. Google lens tells me he is a Bilge Bug or Sea Slater and he lives in the littoral zone. Bilge bugs live for three years. Every day is literally a school day.
This time next week we will all be waking up in March. If January was all about recharging and recovering from the pleasures of the Festive Season it also brought some unexpectedly lovely sunny days. Bright shafts of sunlight kick-started early Spring Cleaning and redecorating during February.
No bad thing as February has been relentlessly wet and drear. Global warming in the far south-west of Britain reveals itself damply. Growing up in the Cold War years (1947-1985) nobody talked much about the climate until they did.
As a lover of words it seems interesting that almost with a flick of a switch the media swapped one temperature based threat with another.
I first heard the term ‘ Global Warming’ in about 1984 just as the ‘Cold war’ was limping to a conclusion of sorts. My ponder today is a really naive one. Does the world not take Global Warming seriously because the word warming is one that suggests comfort and cosiness.
Which leads me to today’s random question/prompt.
What advice would you give to your teenage self?
I took far too much advice as a teenager, so overburdening my younger self with more unsolicited advice might be unwelcome. But here I go.
Nobody gets it all right, all of the time. But getting things wrong is often the more interesting path but not the most comfortable.
Study Global Warming.
Plum Beautiful lipstick, Levi’s and Doc Martin boots will still be with you when you are sixty.
In all the usual ways but oh so much quicker than ever before.
This Victorian clock is on the Cornish side of a local ferry service. I’ve always thought it was quite an inappropriate theme for passengers who had no choice but to squander time in a queue for a ferry.
As long as I get my time differences right I can ask friends in Australia a question and get a message back immediately. This would have taken more than a hundred days when letters travelled by sea. Probably two weeks using airmail and would once have been very expensive by phone.
Communicating online is fast and as effective as the humans that use it. Since communication is one of our most valuable and essential human skills speeding it up must be a good thing. As long as the communication itself is the very best that we can do.
Communicating by writing was always one of my favourite things to do. Blogging is how I reacquaint myself with slow-form writing. Just stringing some words together every day helps me wake my mind up for the day ahead. I think it makes me a better communicator and I better appreciate all that I love about life. The time spent is not squandered.
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