Saturday, 29 October 2016

What a way to go by Julia Forster



I found this a really special book, Julia Forster, writing as the 12 year old Harper Richardson, captures an amazingly authentic voice.

The complexities of the lives of the adults around Harper are really just a backdrop to Harper's exploration of person-hood.

I found great affinity with Harper, like her I was a 12 year old with a tendency to over think things, with a tendency to obsession and fantasy, maybe not getting the wrong “end” of the stick but often grabbing in the middle, and as much as it pains me to admit it, a 12 year old who thought their shell-suit was the height of sophistication (while I now chose different fabrics, to be honest, I am still faithful to its colour combinations, it was bloody brilliant).

I want to write an extensive review because I want to tell you how much I loved this book, was almost hypnotised by it, but I am finding it hard to pin point what it is that made this book such a success for me.

Maybe it was the little touches, Harper is a bit of a Charles and Diana fan, and as a child born in the same mouth as their wedding it took some reconciliation when it turned out that my Charles and Di wedding mug couldn't really have pride of place on the shelf any more. Also her brush with protest, via CND, chimed with the defining experience of, age 5, being part of “Walk for the World” - although I perhaps need to quiz my parents about exactly what the campaign objectives of that walk were?

Ultimately this was a book that spoke deeply into my soul, and said you are not alone. (which doesn't get awkward until you remind me that Harper is fictional...)

Sunday, 16 October 2016

The Bereavement of the Lion-Keeper by Sheenagh Pugh


The Bereavement of the Lion-Keeper by Sheenagh Pugh, in Later Selected Poems

for Sheraq Omar

Who stayed, long after his pay stopped,
in the zoo with no visitors,
just keepers and captives, moth-eaten,
growing old together.

Who begged for meat in the market-place
as times grew hungrier,
and cut it up small to feed him,
since his teeth were gone.

Who could stoke his head, who know,
how it felt to plunge fingers
into rough glowing fur, who has heard
the deepest purr in the world.

Who curled close to him, wrapped in his warmth,
his pungent scent, as the bombs feel,
who has seen him asleep so often,
but never like this.

Who knew that elderly lions
were not immortal, that it was bound
to happen, that he died peacefully,
in the course of nature,

but who knows no way to let go
of love, to walk out of sunlight,
to be an old man in a city
without a lion.

Buying Vinyl by Sheenagh Pugh


Buying Vinyl by Sheenagh Pugh, in Later Selected Poems 

I was asking Cal about floor coverings
- I knew it was Cal because his cardboard badge

said Cal in black felt-tip. What I needed
was six metres of wood-effect vinyl

on a roll, and a good reason to fix
Cal's eyes with mine for a few moments

while I told him about it. They were brown,
far darker than the vinyl, forest-pool-effect.

I showed him what I wanted, and he nodded
and said “yes, right away” and spread

the stuff out on the floor and knelt down.
The back of his neck looked as untouched

as new snow. He glanced up under his eyebrows,
shy and said, “Do me a favour,

hold this still?” So I did, kneeling
beside him at the edge, pressing my hand

where his had been, while he laid
his long steel rile close to the roll

and cut. Clean, straight, beautiful.
I said, “You're good at that” and he smiled,

and I thought, You can't be more than seventeen.
He rolled it tight, not easy, the tip

of his tongue just showing, and I wanted
to help, but he hadn't asked, and I was meant

to be the customer, after all.
I'm three times your age. And he mastered it.

All tied up firmly. I was proud of him.
He puzzled for a moment, licked

the end of his biro, then wrote the bill.
You pay them over there.” It was good value,

I thought, as I checked the VAT,
and he hadn't even charged for the smile.

Pause: Rewind by Sheenagh Pugh,


Pause: Rewind bySheenagh Pugh, in Later Selected Poems 

Nowadays the dead walk and talk
in the wedding video, the camcorded break,

the fuzzed black-and-white of security cameras.
A policeman watches as two balaclavas

burst, again and again, through the door
of an off-licence, and the old shopkeeper

panics, blunders into a baseball bat,
slumps in his blood. Before things can get

any worse, the young PC presses 'pause',
then 'rewind'. And the dark stream flows

into the head again; the old fellow
gets up. The thieves are backing jerkily through

the door, which closes on them. All right,
all tidy. This could get to be a habit:

so many tapes he could whizz backwards.
The bus and bike, speeding to the crossroads,

will not collide, the drunk at the hotel
will stop short of his car, the young girl

will never disappear down the subway
where her rapist waits so patiently.

Pause: rewind. Freeze-frame where you want
the world to stop. The moment before the moment,

before Challenger leaves the launch pad,
before the boat sails or the letter's posted,

before the singer jumps of the bridge,
before you see the face that ends your marriage,

before the pink suit is dyed red,
before a thought is formed or a word said.

Saturday, 15 October 2016

An Archaeology of Town Commons in England By M Bowden, G Brown, and N Smith



Despite being an English Heritage monograph this is an engaging read, it includes plenty of incident and anecdotes which give colour to the formal archaeological descriptions. That Tewkesbury and Southampton feature heavily added additional interest for me knowing both these places pretty well.

That the Commons were the setting for the kinds of activities that have generally been overlooked by “historians” means the study of them adds important breath to the understanding of “urban” life, indeed the agricultural use of these Town Commons points to the fact that the idea of “urban” has only really had a force in the last century or century and a half.

Ancient Christian Worship by Andrew B McGowan



By “Ancient” McGowan refers to the period up until, give or take a bit, 400 AD. Christian Worship in this early era is not without study but one of the important aspects of McGowan consideration is that he looks at it on its own merits when most others have really only been using the worship of this period as a way of explaining later practice.

This lens of later worship has tended to distort the analysis, those pieces of evidence that supported narratives of continuity with later practice were privileged, evidence that didn't fit marginalised. But by trying to avoid this process of reading backwards into the evidence McGowan shows a much more varied and at times surprising range of worship within the early Church.

He reinforces the need to demolish the appeal to the early Church as the basis for modern practice. There was never a singular “pure” worship. We have to establish our practice on its own merits not quasi-archaeological foundations. Given the diversity of worship that seems to have been present in the early church it is remarkable the extent of homogeneity that has prevailed in later centuries – even when we are revelling in contemporary Fresh Expressions they are actually all within a relatively limited ball park.

The other message, not unique to this work but worth recalling, is the relationship between Jewish and Christian worship in this period. The idea that Christian worship is an evolution from Jewish worship is not really supported by the evidence, given the very significant changes that occurred within the Jewish tradition in this period. McGowan concludes that “the developing Christian and Jewish liturgical traditions and their uses of Sabbath and Sunday are better seen as taking their bearings from one another; the Jewish tradition in later does not preceded or explain Christian practice."

For example many like to explore the Seder meal as a way of engaging with the origins of the Eucharist. Even if you accept that the Eucharist has its primary origin in the Last Supper, and the Last Supper was a Passover meal (both of which are contestable assertions), the Passover meal of Jesus' day was not the Seder meal as it is now received. The Seder meal took on much of its current shape after the destruction of the Temple, and so its development occurred alongside that of the Eucharist. When we see similarities between the two, it is as likely that the Jews “borrowed” it from their Christian neighbours, as it is Jewish Christians carried their past practice into the life of the Church. The same can be said about other practices as well.

I would definitely recommend this well written and readable study.

Monday, 10 October 2016

Messy Togetherness by Martyn Payne



I will begin by putting my hand up to the fact that there is something about “Messy Church” that grates for me. I seem to have a similar reaction to mention of Messy Church as Miranda Hart has to her on-screen Mother declaring “Such fun!”...

However Messy Church is clearly a valuable vehicle for organising the energy of churches towards engaging with new people and therefore it should be commended, but that does not excluded the possibility to question and to probe this book, and perhaps the wider concepts.

This book, one of a number published to deepen the understanding of those providing Messy Church, looks particularly at the “intergenerational” element of Messy Church, that they are not events for “Children” but for “All-Ages”. I guess there are those out there that don't understand this point and will benefit from having it explained at length – but if you get the point that successful communities bring people together rather than segregating them you will probably feel like a grandmother being taught to suck eggs.

While Messy Church is big on intergenerational engagement, that parents/grandparents should be doing the craft/eating/worhsiping along with their children, the model is firmly based around families. Payne states at one point that Messy Church “is definitely not just a church for children and their carers” and will include unaccompanied adults (children must be accompanied as it is not child care). However, other than those that are helping run the event I find it hard to imagine an adult feeling engaged in the activities if they are not with a child. I had this sense a throughout the book, but when I got to the session outlines at the end it was really confirmed, even as someone that likes “craft” I would feel monumentally conspicuous participating in any of the sessions described without co-opting a child as cover. This does not invalidate Messy Church, but I think perhaps it would be better for them to temper their claims to have a universal model.

There were also some points where Payne's tone seemed to be paternalistic, even patronising. For example, he reflects that the families that will be coming will increasingly be “messy”, by which he means differing from the “standard” Mum and Dad, who married before having children, and haven't got divorced. They might be single parents, they might be step-children, and so on. He is telling the reader that for Messy Church to be a success they need to be ready to welcome and embrace this range of family set-ups, which is all to the good, but there is something about the way he expresses this that suggests someone living in a middle-class bubble about 30 years behind the times. While the message is that you do Messy Church with those that come, not to or at them, I do wonder how often that ideal is missed.

At the end of the book is a “health check for a Messy Church”, which is 4 pages of mostly inane questions, but within that list there were 4 which caught my eye and I think should perhaps be printed at the end of every order of service...
- What made you go “wow”?
- What made you wince?
- What made you wonder?
- What made you worry?
… I think these would have a provocative power, as all to often most people's response to all of these would be “nothing”, are we brave enough to risk finding out that the our worship leaves even those that come indifferent?