I seem to have retreated to my metaphorical shed this last few days probably because of a lot of incidental stuff, like the hassle around renting the flat and trouping off to the GPs with my still unresolved ear problem. Private Eye used to refers to such mundane preoccupations under the title Great Bores of the Today.
However my metaphorical shed is in itself a strange and exciting place. It’s my mind, or rather it’s the blue skies academic space that I love where ideas can be pursued without any justification or accountability. I’m currently exploring …
I saw the film On Chesil Beach at the weekend. I haven’t read the book but I found the film rather disturbing. It’s a tragedy and hints at the underlying causes without really exploring them, although they are probably explored in the book. Maybe I should read the book. The characters are so young and so screwed up by the repressed post-war culture. I was born in 1947 and some of that rubbed off on me. Then of course we had the 1960s.
I’ve almost finished Go Went Gone. It’s about a guy who is in many ways like me, but he befriends a group of economic migrants from Africa who are seeking asylum in Germany. Since he’s a retired academic, he decides to do a project which involves recording their life histories. I don’t know how the book ends, but I imagine they are all sent back. But their stories are very strong and as I read the book I increasingly agree with their motives in trying to get into Europe. If I was in their situation, that’s what I would do and should do.
E told me recently that however liberal his politics, he now realises that this society is not going to look out for him, and that getting married and having a family means that he has to look out for himself and his loved ones. I’ve been so lucky with scholarships and maintenance grants and job for life and public sector pension. I never had to think about survival.
I live a partly nocturnal existence, up at 3am, read for an hour in bed, doze and then get up just before 5am. I love the time before dawn, in fact when I see it getting light I feel the day is almost over. I sit at my desk until about 8.30 then get dressed. I’ve got one of those green bankers desk lamps and it’s the only light I switch on. I read in bed with a torch. I love driving in the early hours, 3 or 4am, when the roads are empty. Timeless.
Writing this is a special time when everything else stops.