Thursday, 30 December 2010
The wheel truns
Its a year on and having started withan ode to Sir Jack Hobbs we'll finish the year off with a HUZZAH!
Well done lads
Well done lads
Thursday, 11 November 2010
John Thurloe (1616-1668)
Oh I like this one, I really do.
I found it on my walk back to Liverpool Street Station from Oxford Circus after my last trip to London. I was out of the West End and wending my weary way through legal London thinking of the London walk that Ma and me did a couple of years ago, pretty much every building there is linked in some way to another to the legal profession or the needs of lawyers - photocopying shops, wine bars, newsagents... I took a bit of a detour around the LSE and was heading east when I spotted this little beauty
John Thurloe was born in Essex, his father was a rector, he became a secretary to the parliamentary commissioners at the Treaty of Uxbridge which ultimately failed to end the Civil War and was admitted to Lincoln's Inn Fields in 1647. After the war he became Secretary of State. Then things start to get interesting. He became head of intellegence in 1653 for which you may read "spymaster" this at the time of the commonwealth, with a sizable portion of the country mourning the death of the king and wanting the return of the crown...
He created a code-breaking section, his department broke a number of royalist plots including the Sealed Knot. He became MP for Ely in 1654. In 1656 he was made head of the Post Office which obviously gives him access to as much private information as you can shake a stick at.
I cant help but see parallels between Cromwellian England and Soviet Russia. Edward Sexby's and Miles Sindercombe's assassination plots were foiled although his own department was infiltrated. Thurloe supported Richard Cromwells succession in the power struggle after Cromwells death again as a precursor of Soviet Russia. Later that year he was accused of arbitrary action as head of intellegence and he lost his post.
After the restoration he was arested for high treason but was never tried on condition that he wopuld aid the new government. He served behind the scenes in the field of foreign affairs...
I found it on my walk back to Liverpool Street Station from Oxford Circus after my last trip to London. I was out of the West End and wending my weary way through legal London thinking of the London walk that Ma and me did a couple of years ago, pretty much every building there is linked in some way to another to the legal profession or the needs of lawyers - photocopying shops, wine bars, newsagents... I took a bit of a detour around the LSE and was heading east when I spotted this little beauty
John Thurloe was born in Essex, his father was a rector, he became a secretary to the parliamentary commissioners at the Treaty of Uxbridge which ultimately failed to end the Civil War and was admitted to Lincoln's Inn Fields in 1647. After the war he became Secretary of State. Then things start to get interesting. He became head of intellegence in 1653 for which you may read "spymaster" this at the time of the commonwealth, with a sizable portion of the country mourning the death of the king and wanting the return of the crown...
He created a code-breaking section, his department broke a number of royalist plots including the Sealed Knot. He became MP for Ely in 1654. In 1656 he was made head of the Post Office which obviously gives him access to as much private information as you can shake a stick at.
I cant help but see parallels between Cromwellian England and Soviet Russia. Edward Sexby's and Miles Sindercombe's assassination plots were foiled although his own department was infiltrated. Thurloe supported Richard Cromwells succession in the power struggle after Cromwells death again as a precursor of Soviet Russia. Later that year he was accused of arbitrary action as head of intellegence and he lost his post.
After the restoration he was arested for high treason but was never tried on condition that he wopuld aid the new government. He served behind the scenes in the field of foreign affairs...
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
George Edwards (1908-2003)
Within a stonesthrow of Vincent Richmond's plaque is one on the corner of Hales End Road, Chingford. It notes the place of birth of George Edwards, a pivotal figure in British aviation (and a rather more successful one than "Dope" Richmond.) He was described as “one of the world’s foremost aircraft designers and administrators - an architect of the age of flight”
The plaque notes that he was born above his fathers toy shop and I can't help but wonder if maybe he was inspired by the toy aircraft that he saw there. He like many learned his trade in the war years and they were skills that were badly needed. He became a senior designer draughtsman with Vickers in 1935 and worked on a special version of the Wellington, became Chief Designer in 1945 and Director and General Manager in 1953.
The post war years and the growth of commercial air travel provided opportunities especially when Britians farflung empire was still around. His designs were both civil and military. The Viscount, The Valiant (one of the cold war V bombers that were a part of Britain's "independent" nuclear deterrant), The VC10, The Jaguar and Tornado and of course Concorde. So his career also marks a change in the aviation industry, were once a single manufacturer would be responsible for the entire development and construction of an aircraft projects like the Tornado and Concorde mean unprecendented cooperation between not only businesses but countries.
I guess that thats true of a lot more than the aircraft industry. Huge conglomerates dominate markets, lobbying hard to get an edge on the opposition. Gone are the little names swallowed by Kraft or Nestle or Unilever...
Anyway that was my little visit to aeronautical Chingford. Hopefully well manage one more London trip before the madness of Yuletide is in full force...
The plaque notes that he was born above his fathers toy shop and I can't help but wonder if maybe he was inspired by the toy aircraft that he saw there. He like many learned his trade in the war years and they were skills that were badly needed. He became a senior designer draughtsman with Vickers in 1935 and worked on a special version of the Wellington, became Chief Designer in 1945 and Director and General Manager in 1953.
The post war years and the growth of commercial air travel provided opportunities especially when Britians farflung empire was still around. His designs were both civil and military. The Viscount, The Valiant (one of the cold war V bombers that were a part of Britain's "independent" nuclear deterrant), The VC10, The Jaguar and Tornado and of course Concorde. So his career also marks a change in the aviation industry, were once a single manufacturer would be responsible for the entire development and construction of an aircraft projects like the Tornado and Concorde mean unprecendented cooperation between not only businesses but countries.
I guess that thats true of a lot more than the aircraft industry. Huge conglomerates dominate markets, lobbying hard to get an edge on the opposition. Gone are the little names swallowed by Kraft or Nestle or Unilever...
Anyway that was my little visit to aeronautical Chingford. Hopefully well manage one more London trip before the madness of Yuletide is in full force...
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Lt. Col. Vincent C. "Dope" Richmond (1893-1930)
Yes, that really was the guys nickname. And not because he was a fan of the green either.
An age ago I went on a course at Cardington in Bedfordshire, the area is dominated by two vast structures. Built during the First World War to house the British airship programme that would rival the German Zeppelins, they were 700 feet long - and were enlarged after the war when the airship programme was developed to serve the need for communication throughout the empire on which the sun will never set...
It never really took off (pun intended) with the improvements in aeroplanes and also a series of high profile disasters the most famous of which is of course the Hindenburg explosion at Lakehurst NJ.
The R100 and R101 were rival designs, the R100 being buyilt by a commercial company and the R101 by the Air ministry with radically different agendas. The R101 had all the weaknesses of being designed by committee, it was alos subject to meddling from the Air Ministry and as the Air Ministry wanted a high public profile by press attention.
Richmond designed the outer covering of the airship where he used his revolutionary technique of stretching fabric over astructure and doping it which would cause it to shrink which while satisfactory for small aircraft was less than ideal for such a large craft.
Its unknown why the R101 crashed in Beauvais, France on 4th October 1930. The official board of inquiry found that there was a failiure of the outer cover of the upper nose which destroyed a gasbag, but with so many pressures of the court the conclusions are less than reliable.
Richmond was on board and was one of the 48 out of the 55 passengers who perished in the crash as did the dream of dirigibles...
Just one of the plaques spotted on a mammoth day of plaque spotting starting in Chingford and finishing after a long walk back from Oxford circus to Liverpool Street as Marie was on a course and I was at a loose end and unwilling to carry on with filling boxes on a lovely autumn day...
An age ago I went on a course at Cardington in Bedfordshire, the area is dominated by two vast structures. Built during the First World War to house the British airship programme that would rival the German Zeppelins, they were 700 feet long - and were enlarged after the war when the airship programme was developed to serve the need for communication throughout the empire on which the sun will never set...
It never really took off (pun intended) with the improvements in aeroplanes and also a series of high profile disasters the most famous of which is of course the Hindenburg explosion at Lakehurst NJ.
The R100 and R101 were rival designs, the R100 being buyilt by a commercial company and the R101 by the Air ministry with radically different agendas. The R101 had all the weaknesses of being designed by committee, it was alos subject to meddling from the Air Ministry and as the Air Ministry wanted a high public profile by press attention.
Richmond designed the outer covering of the airship where he used his revolutionary technique of stretching fabric over astructure and doping it which would cause it to shrink which while satisfactory for small aircraft was less than ideal for such a large craft.
Its unknown why the R101 crashed in Beauvais, France on 4th October 1930. The official board of inquiry found that there was a failiure of the outer cover of the upper nose which destroyed a gasbag, but with so many pressures of the court the conclusions are less than reliable.
Richmond was on board and was one of the 48 out of the 55 passengers who perished in the crash as did the dream of dirigibles...
Just one of the plaques spotted on a mammoth day of plaque spotting starting in Chingford and finishing after a long walk back from Oxford circus to Liverpool Street as Marie was on a course and I was at a loose end and unwilling to carry on with filling boxes on a lovely autumn day...
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Stolpersteine
I think i shan't be doing the old "it's like....in Nazi Germany" gibe for a while.
Our little trip to Berlin was quite the eye-opener. We stayed in a nice enough hotel on Auguststrasse just off Oranienbergerstrasse which was one of the major thoroughfairs of Jewish Berlin. We could see the elaborate dome of the Neue Synagogue from our room. It was within my lifetime in the Soviet sector of the divided city which means that there is only now a move to gentrify the streets. Theres a sharp contrast between the chic galleries and the mouldering ex-industrial buildings. And its the only European City that Ive experienced with vast tracts of rough ground within a walk of the centre.
Its a scarred city too, the pocked surface of many surfaces, whether is the plaster side of a building or the columns of the museums clustered on Museum Insel or the headstones in the cemeteries. Its scars are deep too and while life goes on, lets not forget that youd have to been in early old age now to be a witness to the deaththroes of the thousand year Reich and the soviet armies utter destruction of the city there is beginning of historical pespective appearing,reassessments of the cities dark past.
One of these is Solpersteine, small brass inlays dedicated to those who used to live within the walls behind the street. Tall, tidy houses for the most part - usually divided up into apartments. Sometimes singles sometimes small groups or three or four usually with the same surname placed at residenst request by a German artist Gunther Hemnig. Its the utter banality, the ordinariness of the sites, the familiarity of the places names - Auschwitz, Theriesenstadt, Riga. Lodz that gets you. The spectres of these families suitcased, hatted being "escorted" from their homes that lingers. The quiet suburban streets not so different now from then. We were situated just round the corner from Grosser Hamburger Strasse and the desecrated Jewish cemetary not to mention the empty house - a gap ripped into the row of houses , emblematic of the gap in German society with the names and occupations of the old tenements ex-occupants.
So far over 20,000 Stolpersteine have been placed with 2,00 in berlin...
Our little trip to Berlin was quite the eye-opener. We stayed in a nice enough hotel on Auguststrasse just off Oranienbergerstrasse which was one of the major thoroughfairs of Jewish Berlin. We could see the elaborate dome of the Neue Synagogue from our room. It was within my lifetime in the Soviet sector of the divided city which means that there is only now a move to gentrify the streets. Theres a sharp contrast between the chic galleries and the mouldering ex-industrial buildings. And its the only European City that Ive experienced with vast tracts of rough ground within a walk of the centre.
Its a scarred city too, the pocked surface of many surfaces, whether is the plaster side of a building or the columns of the museums clustered on Museum Insel or the headstones in the cemeteries. Its scars are deep too and while life goes on, lets not forget that youd have to been in early old age now to be a witness to the deaththroes of the thousand year Reich and the soviet armies utter destruction of the city there is beginning of historical pespective appearing,reassessments of the cities dark past.
One of these is Solpersteine, small brass inlays dedicated to those who used to live within the walls behind the street. Tall, tidy houses for the most part - usually divided up into apartments. Sometimes singles sometimes small groups or three or four usually with the same surname placed at residenst request by a German artist Gunther Hemnig. Its the utter banality, the ordinariness of the sites, the familiarity of the places names - Auschwitz, Theriesenstadt, Riga. Lodz that gets you. The spectres of these families suitcased, hatted being "escorted" from their homes that lingers. The quiet suburban streets not so different now from then. We were situated just round the corner from Grosser Hamburger Strasse and the desecrated Jewish cemetary not to mention the empty house - a gap ripped into the row of houses , emblematic of the gap in German society with the names and occupations of the old tenements ex-occupants.
So far over 20,000 Stolpersteine have been placed with 2,00 in berlin...
Sunday, 26 September 2010
It's like collecting blue plaques in Nazi Germany part II
So we find our guide outside the Bishopsgate entrance to Liverpool Street station and soon our motley band is assembled and we debarked across the road through a maze of what were once East India Company warehouses, mute witnesses to the trade that made the city great and of course one of the driving imperatives of the immigrant communities.
We found ourselves on Middlesex Street otherwise known as Petticoat Lane, not that there was an awful lot of activity at 11a.m. on Saturday and spotted the Blue Plaque dedicated to the Jewish Board of Guardians for the Relief of the Jewish Poor again a reminder not only of the Immigrant community but also to the immense poverty in the area. Which is of course why Petticoat Lane market and its schmutter is there. We also spotted a discarded Pilsner Urquell half pint glass which made its way mysteriously inside M's carrier bag. Next stop on the trail was the discreetly hidden Sandy's Row Synagogue which looked so damnedly intriguing. But it being a Saturady and a high holiday as well there was no chance of gaining entry. We found our way down past a couple of the best preserved Hugenot shops around Gun Street and Artillery Lane so called for the Tudor armshouses created by Henry VIII to an old Almshouse used by many of the working girls of the area - Not least Mary Kelly the last of the canonical Ripper victims and across the way a soulless carpark on the site of a warren of old streets including Millers Court where Jack has his way with her... and she was his final victim. The culmination of a long hot summer of mounting insanity. London Walks has a couple of Ripper Walks which Id like to go on but there was a bit of crossover on this walk the alleys of Whitechapel and its teeming hordes providing Jack with his choice of victims. We turn from BellLane and its faded adverts for businesses long closed and turn East past Spitalfields Market. On either side of the entrance to Fournier Street are gorgeous Christchuch Spitalfields a Hawksmoor church saved from the demolition and on the other The Ten Bells which again has Ripper connections. "It was widely rumoured that Annie Chapman had been seen in a pub near Spitalfields Market at c.5.00 A.M. on the morning of her murder" and Mary Kelly's pitch was outside the pub and Mary Kelly was also reported to have been drinking there the night before her death...
We found ourselves on Middlesex Street otherwise known as Petticoat Lane, not that there was an awful lot of activity at 11a.m. on Saturday and spotted the Blue Plaque dedicated to the Jewish Board of Guardians for the Relief of the Jewish Poor again a reminder not only of the Immigrant community but also to the immense poverty in the area. Which is of course why Petticoat Lane market and its schmutter is there. We also spotted a discarded Pilsner Urquell half pint glass which made its way mysteriously inside M's carrier bag. Next stop on the trail was the discreetly hidden Sandy's Row Synagogue which looked so damnedly intriguing. But it being a Saturady and a high holiday as well there was no chance of gaining entry. We found our way down past a couple of the best preserved Hugenot shops around Gun Street and Artillery Lane so called for the Tudor armshouses created by Henry VIII to an old Almshouse used by many of the working girls of the area - Not least Mary Kelly the last of the canonical Ripper victims and across the way a soulless carpark on the site of a warren of old streets including Millers Court where Jack has his way with her... and she was his final victim. The culmination of a long hot summer of mounting insanity. London Walks has a couple of Ripper Walks which Id like to go on but there was a bit of crossover on this walk the alleys of Whitechapel and its teeming hordes providing Jack with his choice of victims. We turn from BellLane and its faded adverts for businesses long closed and turn East past Spitalfields Market. On either side of the entrance to Fournier Street are gorgeous Christchuch Spitalfields a Hawksmoor church saved from the demolition and on the other The Ten Bells which again has Ripper connections. "It was widely rumoured that Annie Chapman had been seen in a pub near Spitalfields Market at c.5.00 A.M. on the morning of her murder" and Mary Kelly's pitch was outside the pub and Mary Kelly was also reported to have been drinking there the night before her death...
Monday, 20 September 2010
It's like collecting blue plaques in Nazi Germany
As Eddie would say...
We had a really good Saturday taking the Liverpool St. train a little before 9 and arrived in 10.15 in good time for the Immigrants London walk which started from the Bishopsgate entrance to Liverpool Street station. Fortunately we found our guide in good time. Theres a blue plaque actually on Liverpool Street station dedicated to the first Bethlehem hospital (1247-1676). It's recognised as the worlds first institute for psychiatric disorders. Its also where we get the word Bedlam from whhich speaks volumes as to the conditions that the unfortunates there undewent. It started as a religious institute, a priory run by the Order of the Star of Bethlehem. It firsat became a hospital in 1337 and first admitted psychiatric patients in 1357. Early sixteenth century maps show the hospital as a few stone buildings grouped around a courtyard, a church and a garden. The "care" provided there was shall we say minimal. Patients were routinely manacled to the floor, the lucky ones were licenced to beg . It was a royal hospital but administered by the corporation of London and managed by the governor of Bridewell. The other plaque in Liverpool Street station is rather more recent and depicts five children surrounded by parcels and bags at ground level. Behind them are the train tracks that have brought them to this point. Train tracks that began in Berlin, Leipzig, Mannheim, Hamburg, Vienna, Prague.
The story continues soon
We had a really good Saturday taking the Liverpool St. train a little before 9 and arrived in 10.15 in good time for the Immigrants London walk which started from the Bishopsgate entrance to Liverpool Street station. Fortunately we found our guide in good time. Theres a blue plaque actually on Liverpool Street station dedicated to the first Bethlehem hospital (1247-1676). It's recognised as the worlds first institute for psychiatric disorders. Its also where we get the word Bedlam from whhich speaks volumes as to the conditions that the unfortunates there undewent. It started as a religious institute, a priory run by the Order of the Star of Bethlehem. It firsat became a hospital in 1337 and first admitted psychiatric patients in 1357. Early sixteenth century maps show the hospital as a few stone buildings grouped around a courtyard, a church and a garden. The "care" provided there was shall we say minimal. Patients were routinely manacled to the floor, the lucky ones were licenced to beg . It was a royal hospital but administered by the corporation of London and managed by the governor of Bridewell. The other plaque in Liverpool Street station is rather more recent and depicts five children surrounded by parcels and bags at ground level. Behind them are the train tracks that have brought them to this point. Train tracks that began in Berlin, Leipzig, Mannheim, Hamburg, Vienna, Prague.
The story continues soon
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Dissolution
On the eve of Pope Bendicts visit to these shores I'm glad to report that my magnificent octopus is finished (at least for the time being) The map of visited blue plaques is pretty much up to date. I'm missing a few which I think are on Marie's camera but it will do as a start. Were off to London at the weekend for the London Open House day so hopefully will be able to get a few more sorted out.
Last years Open House we spent around Fleet St and I was placing last years Blue Plaques and there are a couple which seemed in the light of the book that I've just began - Dissolution by C.J.Sansom. They are both very central (Newgate Street and Ludgate Broadway) and both are dedicated to monastic institutions - Grey Friars and Blackfriars. Blackfriars was a Dominican Monastery which was moved from Holborn in 1276 and was destroyed by Henry VIII in 1538 and Grey friars refers to a Franciscan house set up between 1306 and 1348 which grew into quite the institution being the second largest church in London (300 ft long and 89 feet across) featuring 11 alters. Big Hal also put an end to the monastery and donated Christ's Church to the city which underwent a bit of a reverse with materials being half-inched and monuments being defaced. The church was destroyed in the Great Fire and was rebuilt by Wren.
Im enjoying Dissolution. Ive got quite the thing for geographical/historical moiders. Im still making my way through the Cetin Ikmen back catalogue. Its quite the recreation of Tudor times and the reforming zeal that lead to the religious background of modern Britain.
And so we return to the Popes visit. There have been a couple of interesting pieces on the TV - most notably Peter Tatchell's take on the visit which was pretty close to my own. There were some nutbar interviewees most notably a Filipino lawyer who so no merits in contraception as they had a failiure rate and the home counties loon who insisted that stem cell research was murder because the most miniscule collection of cells are due human rights. Now I'm not saying that science has all the answers, I'm not saying that modern society is perfect. What I am saying is that when dogma trumps common sense its time to take stock.
Last years Open House we spent around Fleet St and I was placing last years Blue Plaques and there are a couple which seemed in the light of the book that I've just began - Dissolution by C.J.Sansom. They are both very central (Newgate Street and Ludgate Broadway) and both are dedicated to monastic institutions - Grey Friars and Blackfriars. Blackfriars was a Dominican Monastery which was moved from Holborn in 1276 and was destroyed by Henry VIII in 1538 and Grey friars refers to a Franciscan house set up between 1306 and 1348 which grew into quite the institution being the second largest church in London (300 ft long and 89 feet across) featuring 11 alters. Big Hal also put an end to the monastery and donated Christ's Church to the city which underwent a bit of a reverse with materials being half-inched and monuments being defaced. The church was destroyed in the Great Fire and was rebuilt by Wren.
Im enjoying Dissolution. Ive got quite the thing for geographical/historical moiders. Im still making my way through the Cetin Ikmen back catalogue. Its quite the recreation of Tudor times and the reforming zeal that lead to the religious background of modern Britain.
And so we return to the Popes visit. There have been a couple of interesting pieces on the TV - most notably Peter Tatchell's take on the visit which was pretty close to my own. There were some nutbar interviewees most notably a Filipino lawyer who so no merits in contraception as they had a failiure rate and the home counties loon who insisted that stem cell research was murder because the most miniscule collection of cells are due human rights. Now I'm not saying that science has all the answers, I'm not saying that modern society is perfect. What I am saying is that when dogma trumps common sense its time to take stock.
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Der meisterwerke
Its been a while. This is partly but in no way entirely because of Google Maps. I'm creating a map of located blue plaques on Google Maps. There are clusters at the moment in London (mostly it has to be said around Central London - Kings Cross and Picadilly) Cambridge and Wisbech. I'm hoping to expand a little. I have one to place in Bristol and one in Oxford and am looking at the list of Blue Plaque towns in the UK and there are it has to be said there are a few. I spotted a couple in Marlborough a couple of weeks back when we journeyed back from Bristol. The Bristol is a corker I have to say. Its suspended above a public toilet just round the corner from Dave's old stamping ground of Durdham Park. We came across it rather by accident on the way back from the Bristol Balloon Fiesta and a lovely evening watching gasbags hanging suspended over the Avon gorge from across the river in Clifton. We were on our way back from Westbury-on-Trym where we were staying with M's hardcore Christian friend Helen when we passed the red brick institution on Stoke Road.
Victoria Hughes was named for the widow of Windsor, being born as she was on the day of the Queen-Empresses jubilee and led a life of service...actually I think that that should be Service with a capital S. She supported her family by earning 4/6 for a couple of days work a week working as a toilet attendant for 30 years. She also provided a rather different service to the working girls who frequented the nearby "Ladies Mile". She keep a series of notebooks and so bacame a social documentrian for a section of society often overlooked and distained (sometimes by those same people using the services of the aforementioned working girls) She was far from a disinterested observer though providing money, advice and the occasional intervention to those who frequented her toilet at a time when social services were of the cap in hand variety she gave succor to those that needed it most.
A blue plaque richly deserved.
Victoria Hughes was named for the widow of Windsor, being born as she was on the day of the Queen-Empresses jubilee and led a life of service...actually I think that that should be Service with a capital S. She supported her family by earning 4/6 for a couple of days work a week working as a toilet attendant for 30 years. She also provided a rather different service to the working girls who frequented the nearby "Ladies Mile". She keep a series of notebooks and so bacame a social documentrian for a section of society often overlooked and distained (sometimes by those same people using the services of the aforementioned working girls) She was far from a disinterested observer though providing money, advice and the occasional intervention to those who frequented her toilet at a time when social services were of the cap in hand variety she gave succor to those that needed it most.
A blue plaque richly deserved.
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Blue Plaque Wisbech
I was I will admit a little surprised on visiting Wisbech at the weekend to find a couple of blue plaques awaiting me. Wed gone hoping (well Marie had gone hoping) to watch the new A-Team film at the lovely little Luxe cinema. Sadly the cinema was sold out, even sadder the one at Peterborough wasnt; cue two hours of lack of plot, intellegence, wit and charactorization. A film with absolutely no redeeming points is a rare thing indeed, but this was one of them.
However I digress, Wisbech was after the draining of the Fens a major inland port transporting produce from the area. Its still an incredibly fertile area and has some lovely Georgian architecture which has featured in a couple of recent costume dramas. The blue plaque opposite the Luxe is dedicated to William Godwin (1756-1836) a proto-anarchist and father of Mary Wollstonecraft who I must confess I'd never heard of. He was born and rasied as a strict Calvinist and went into the priesthood and wrote An enquiry concerning Political Justice, and its Influence on General Virtue and Happiness in 1793 at the full flood of the French Revolution in part as a response to Thomas Paine's Rights of Man. Godwin saw government and social institutions such as property monopoly, marriage and monarchy as restraining the progress of mankind. He however did not advocate violence believing change would come gradually and that violence was unnecessary. A deserved blue plaque to my way of thinking...
However I digress, Wisbech was after the draining of the Fens a major inland port transporting produce from the area. Its still an incredibly fertile area and has some lovely Georgian architecture which has featured in a couple of recent costume dramas. The blue plaque opposite the Luxe is dedicated to William Godwin (1756-1836) a proto-anarchist and father of Mary Wollstonecraft who I must confess I'd never heard of. He was born and rasied as a strict Calvinist and went into the priesthood and wrote An enquiry concerning Political Justice, and its Influence on General Virtue and Happiness in 1793 at the full flood of the French Revolution in part as a response to Thomas Paine's Rights of Man. Godwin saw government and social institutions such as property monopoly, marriage and monarchy as restraining the progress of mankind. He however did not advocate violence believing change would come gradually and that violence was unnecessary. A deserved blue plaque to my way of thinking...
Monday, 26 July 2010
Harold Abrahams (1899-1978)
I guess that most people know of Harold Abrahams through Chariots of Fire, Hugh Hudson's 1981 film of two contrasting athletes part in the 1924 Olympics. I think that Chariots of Fire was maybe the first video along with Kagemusha that I rented, we were staying with the O'Learys in Kettleborough and as a special treat had a visit to Woodbridge and a video rental shop.
One exchange from the film sttays with me. Its between Harold and his wife to be, Sybil.
Harold: I'm what I call semi-deprived.
Sybil: That sounds clever what does it mean?
Harold:It means they lead me to water but they won't let me drink.
Harold was Jewish and his sense of frustration and the need to fight against the restrictions that bound him runbs through the film. His plaque is in Hodford Road in Golders Green still a very Jewish area, cosy and middle class. He went up to Cambridge and read law at Gonville and Caius (again battling the status quo) and there his athletic potential came to the fore and was part of the British Team for the 1924 Paris Olympics. He ran the 100 metres which he won in a time of 10.6 seconds, the 200 metres where he placed 6th and the 4x100 metre relay where the British came 2nd. He broke his leg in 1925 competing in the long jump and his career came to a close. He was a sports journalist for 40 years and commentated on Athletics for the BBC, including the Berlin Olympics and was chairman of the Amateur Athletics Association and the Jewish Athletic Association.
Its these little plots of surburbia throwing up extraordinary people that I love and I genuinely think that I got an insight into what inspired Harold Abrahams to "run them off their feet"
One exchange from the film sttays with me. Its between Harold and his wife to be, Sybil.
Harold: I'm what I call semi-deprived.
Sybil: That sounds clever what does it mean?
Harold:It means they lead me to water but they won't let me drink.
Harold was Jewish and his sense of frustration and the need to fight against the restrictions that bound him runbs through the film. His plaque is in Hodford Road in Golders Green still a very Jewish area, cosy and middle class. He went up to Cambridge and read law at Gonville and Caius (again battling the status quo) and there his athletic potential came to the fore and was part of the British Team for the 1924 Paris Olympics. He ran the 100 metres which he won in a time of 10.6 seconds, the 200 metres where he placed 6th and the 4x100 metre relay where the British came 2nd. He broke his leg in 1925 competing in the long jump and his career came to a close. He was a sports journalist for 40 years and commentated on Athletics for the BBC, including the Berlin Olympics and was chairman of the Amateur Athletics Association and the Jewish Athletic Association.
Its these little plots of surburbia throwing up extraordinary people that I love and I genuinely think that I got an insight into what inspired Harold Abrahams to "run them off their feet"
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Harvey Pekar 1939-2010
To some the word comicbook will always be a perjurative term. A synonym for near illiteracy, juvenile, immature trash. And theres a reason for that - many comic books are juvenile, many are immature. There are however, books out there, books that just happen to be written in the graphic medium. Books that make you think, books that make you feel. And those are the books that I tend to go for. I'm Spandex intolerant and thanks to Harvey Pekar there are plenty of books out there that don't feature Men of Iron or Dark Knights but rather books that deal with everyday lives. Harvey's work features his trials and tribulations told in an utterly honest way, exposing his curmudgeonly take on life , his tales of the means streets of Cleveland and his frustrations at his wife, his fans, the system that we all have to endure - books written by authors like - Adrian Tomine, Daniel Clowes, Andi Watson, Art Spiegalman, Joe Sacco and The Hernandez Brothers. He came to wider attention with the release of the movie American Splendor (2003) based on his book which garnered awards at Cannes and the Sundance Festival and also an Oscar nomination.
Thanks Harve.
Thanks Harve.
Monday, 12 July 2010
The mystery of the disappearing blue plaques
OK so its not exactly Sherlock Holmes but.... I noticed a while back that the facade of the Arts Theatre was being done. The Arts Theatre is on Peas Hill and normally bears a blue plaque to John Maynard Keynes which had been prised of, I thought as part of the redecoration. But then I noticed that one of the blue plaques near work, that to Hobsons Conduit had also gone missing and then I checked on the plaque to Jack Hobbs on Parkers Piece and that too was gone. I thought that maybe all the plaques had been withdrawn as part of Council costcutting with the economy as it is and with local councils having to institute swingeing cuts across the board, but then how much is an already extant plaque scheme going to cost? Not a whole lot I would think. And then on the way back from Queens' were we'd gone on a sweltering Saturday evening to see the lovely 'Na and the Fairhaven singers go through their paces we walked down Silver Street and saw the blue plaques all ship shape and Bristol fashion. There are a couple on the Street one to Gwen Raverat who was Charles Darwins great grandaughter and an accomplished artist, she maily worked in woodcut and was part of the grand alliance of the Keynes/Darwin/Vaughan Williams family. Her second cousin was Ralph Vaughan-Williams whose work we listened to on Saturday. She married Jacques Raveret, a french painter. The second plaque of Silver Street was a little more prosaic dedicated to New Hall which was a womans only college in Cambridge founded to address the shameful fact that Cambridge had one of the lowest proportion of female students of British universities - it started with a whopping 16 students. Its now out on Huntingdon Road on land donated by the Darwins...
Thursday, 8 July 2010
John Keats 1795-1821
I had a very nice Sunday. It started early and yes I forgot my camera, I actually realized as I was crossing Elizabeth Way but decided not to turn back. It was gorgeous and sunny and though I had to endure a bit of a breeze, a breeze that was astonishingly in my teeth all day but that kept my cool as I peddled, well mostly peddled southwards through Shelford and Whittlesford, Elmdon and Duddenhoe End. Langley is remembered for the fact that the village green is bisected by the road, the fact that the cricket pitch is sited on that village green means that the boundary provides some rather idiosyncratic road markings. Then its down through the Pelhams being overtaken by the vintage Triumph bike club and then the Hadhams including a brief respite for water and a Mint Feast - and its a while since Ive seen a Mint Feast and then Widford and Hunsford. It was then that deterred by a veritable mountain on the road to Royden meant a left turn through Stansted Abbotts at which point I hit Hoddesdon. I have nothing against Hoddesdon but I was hoping for a bit more bucolic beauty so cut back through Nazeing and Waltham Cross. Not the nicest area and next time I think Ill try and find an alternative route but so far so good. This takes you to the very northernmost point of Enfield, the outermost outer London again though more traffic, more noise, more people and running out of time as Marie had texted to say that she was wandering around Camden Market and we were going to meet at the top of Primrose Hill at 2.30.
Id mapped out my route on the A-Z hoping to swing by Hodford Road but also stopping by a few more points of interest so it was that I neared Edmonton Green and Church Road where I was going to swing West through Edmonton and Tottenham and had just found it when I punctured. As I'd spent Saturday afternoon sitting in the pub with Wayne watching the Germany-Argentina game when I could have been buying a new inner tube. Hindsight i guess.
It could have been a lot worse as I found myself at the doors of Edmonton Green rail station. Just round the corner from the station is Keats Parade which marks the place where Keats underwent his apprenticeship to a surgeon/apothecary - God knows what the lad saw but with a traumatic childhood it was reckoned by by Charles Cowden Clarke a friend of Keats to be "the most placid time in [Keats'] life".
Next up why Cambridges Blue Plques are disappearing...
Id mapped out my route on the A-Z hoping to swing by Hodford Road but also stopping by a few more points of interest so it was that I neared Edmonton Green and Church Road where I was going to swing West through Edmonton and Tottenham and had just found it when I punctured. As I'd spent Saturday afternoon sitting in the pub with Wayne watching the Germany-Argentina game when I could have been buying a new inner tube. Hindsight i guess.
It could have been a lot worse as I found myself at the doors of Edmonton Green rail station. Just round the corner from the station is Keats Parade which marks the place where Keats underwent his apprenticeship to a surgeon/apothecary - God knows what the lad saw but with a traumatic childhood it was reckoned by by Charles Cowden Clarke a friend of Keats to be "the most placid time in [Keats'] life".
Next up why Cambridges Blue Plques are disappearing...
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Home again, home again jiggedy jig
Well I'm back home after a two week break. Ywo weeks with ups and downs as I guess is the way travelling as a couple. We both survived the trip but I guess that it exposed my doubts about moving in with Marie. She doesn't deal well with conflict and neither do I. There was a moment in front of the Dolmabahce Palace where I would quite happily have given her the guidebook and the card for the hotel and just gone off on my own for the rest of the day. Im also enjoying the rest of the weekend as we got back at a rather respectable 2 p.m. yesterday. Its funny to think that yesterday morning we were travelling through the mist shrouded streets of Istanbul and now Im back to the chaos of the flat.
I guess that compromise is the key to a relationship - and I guess that we had a compromised trip. We both indulged in pursuits that we wouldn't maybe have do - Marie - walking and me shopping. My frustrations are I think in that Im supposed to be the one who organises, Im the one that does the reading, Im the one who does the prep. and Marie simply comes along for the ride. The truth of course is that the joy is in the reading, its in the preparation and finding the places of interest.
Still we both enjoyed the trip. Different aspects of the trip but we DID both enjoy it. I was a think a little disappointed with Istanbul - I think that The first trip in October suited me more - with fewer tourists and a bit less heat it gives you more time and makes you more inclined to stretch yourself. Not that we did stretch ourself - OK well I didnt I think that the spectacle of Marie struggling up the hill to Arbanasi will stay with me for a while. Its a worry because iy wasnt really that much of a climb - Marie whined that I shouldnt always measure things in my terms but the truth is that unless shes ready to offer alternatives And Im being harsh, after her dissertation she was after a holiday while I as usual wanted a bit of an explore. And as I say we managed a bit of both, in fact I think that I probably got the best of the compromise. We did get around, we did see stuff and the holiday was confined to the occaasional sit and read in the shade. We did Ok there as well - a couple of cloudbursts but all in all good weather throughout - lovely while walking in the old town of Plvdiv or Veliko Turnovo not so more in the crowded metropolis of Istanbul!!
Marie has promised to arrange the next trip. Hopefully were looking at Berlin at the end of the summer...
I guess that compromise is the key to a relationship - and I guess that we had a compromised trip. We both indulged in pursuits that we wouldn't maybe have do - Marie - walking and me shopping. My frustrations are I think in that Im supposed to be the one who organises, Im the one that does the reading, Im the one who does the prep. and Marie simply comes along for the ride. The truth of course is that the joy is in the reading, its in the preparation and finding the places of interest.
Still we both enjoyed the trip. Different aspects of the trip but we DID both enjoy it. I was a think a little disappointed with Istanbul - I think that The first trip in October suited me more - with fewer tourists and a bit less heat it gives you more time and makes you more inclined to stretch yourself. Not that we did stretch ourself - OK well I didnt I think that the spectacle of Marie struggling up the hill to Arbanasi will stay with me for a while. Its a worry because iy wasnt really that much of a climb - Marie whined that I shouldnt always measure things in my terms but the truth is that unless shes ready to offer alternatives And Im being harsh, after her dissertation she was after a holiday while I as usual wanted a bit of an explore. And as I say we managed a bit of both, in fact I think that I probably got the best of the compromise. We did get around, we did see stuff and the holiday was confined to the occaasional sit and read in the shade. We did Ok there as well - a couple of cloudbursts but all in all good weather throughout - lovely while walking in the old town of Plvdiv or Veliko Turnovo not so more in the crowded metropolis of Istanbul!!
Marie has promised to arrange the next trip. Hopefully were looking at Berlin at the end of the summer...
Sunday, 9 May 2010
Dadbhai Naoroji 1825-1917
Spotted on my last foray into London on the outside of the Art Nouveau Finsbury Town Hall. I guess it's rather aposite given the events of the last few days.
He was elected as a Liberal MP in 1892 and was the first Indian to sit in the House of Commons. He was a founding memeber of the Indian National Congress and a mentor to Gandhi. He was also paternal uncle of the rather un-Gandhiish J.R.D.Tata.
I wonder what he would amke of the mess that the Mother of Democracies is in at the moment?
I guess that I should come clean and say that I voted Lib Dem in Thursday's election. Yes there are issues that I differ from the manifesto on - I'm less than convinced of the need for big government from Brussels and I'm less than sure that an amnesty for illegal immigrants is the way to go (though I acknowledgement that that is at least an attempt to deal with the continued problems that we have with immigration). I believe that renewing Trident at the very least needs to be at the very least looked at - because it aint an independent deterrant and its not too effective against the enemies that we face. I believe in fairer taxes where those who can afford to pay more to the sociry off've which they make their money should do, I believe that education will shape the future of this country and that that is where we need to invest, I believe in maintaining public services as much as possbible in a harsh economic environment, I beleive in a low carbon economy. But most of all I beleieve in electoral reform. Because this simply isn't working. A party that has 10% of the popular vote should have 10% of the seats in the house. I'm sorry but it IS that simple. We need concensus politics not the monkey house at the zoo that we see week in and week out at PMQs. Yes that will mean seats for UKIP and the BNP but thats democarcy and UKIP and the BNP do reflect some peoples fears. And you cant defeat these dickheads unless you confront them and take them on face to face on open debate. We should be able to votefor what we want rather than a least worst option. We need a UNITED kingdom not a divided one. Back to the matter at hand - we had a hustings at work which I attended which I really enjoyed. The Tory candidate came across as supercilious and the Labour guy as defending the indefensible who the hell can a union guy be a Labour MP when Gordo is every bit as anti-union as the Tories? Tony Juniper, the Green Candidate couldnt make it which was a shame because I would have liked to have heard his ideas. Simon Sedgewick_jell turned up as a bit of a comedy turn but didnt impress...so Lib Lem it was. I had Friday off so that I could stay up to watch and made it til 6.30 when there were less than 100 seats left to declare and by which time it was pretty much decided that it was going to be a hung parliament.... Stick it out Nick a commitment to a commission dont mean dick...
Monday, 3 May 2010
Blitz Street
On my wanderings last week I spotted (well was looking out for thanks to plaquesoflondon.com )n inconspicuous plaque on a pub wall in Nevill Road. An ordinary, terraced street in an unremarkable suburb of London with an unfortunate claim to fame, that being that the first zeppelin bomb to fall on London dropped into the back garden of the Nevill Arms pub on 30th May 1915. The attack killed 7 and injured 35 and with it came a new era in warfare. An era thats certainly left its mark on London, in most cases the marks are all but disappeared, signalled by a gleaming glass and not so gleaming concrete plonked down in the middle of victorian brick. The blitz is being recreated at the moment by Channel 4 subjecting a specially made terrace to ever larger explosions which kind of misses the point of the true horror of the blitz. Not the effect on brick and mortar but on flesh and bone.
Maybe these periodic conflagrations are the equivalent of a bush fire that some trees require to activate these seeds. From Boudicca through Saxon and Viking raids, Peasants Revolts, plague and fire, The Gordon Riots right up to 7/7. Its part of a dynamic city I guess, one that constantly reinvents itself. And thats not even counting on the rather less dramatic predations of the property developers who ensure that history doesn't get in the way of profit.
Theres a quote from Babylon 5 that seems rather apt - "The universe is driven by the complex interweaving of three elements: energy, matter and enlightened self-interest"
Election Day tomorrow. Woo-hoo!!
Maybe these periodic conflagrations are the equivalent of a bush fire that some trees require to activate these seeds. From Boudicca through Saxon and Viking raids, Peasants Revolts, plague and fire, The Gordon Riots right up to 7/7. Its part of a dynamic city I guess, one that constantly reinvents itself. And thats not even counting on the rather less dramatic predations of the property developers who ensure that history doesn't get in the way of profit.
Theres a quote from Babylon 5 that seems rather apt - "The universe is driven by the complex interweaving of three elements: energy, matter and enlightened self-interest"
Election Day tomorrow. Woo-hoo!!
Monday, 26 April 2010
Abney House
Had a really nice weekend - Saturday work had arranged a charabang to London - I go for free and Marie goes to £6. It would let's face it be rude not to. However, come the day and Marie needs to work on her dissertation, in fact she still needs to work on her dissertation so I troll up and meet Gill the Minion and her better half and espy a couple of familiar faces and get on board. Its a smoothish trip besides our two coaches coming together in East London which resulted in a shattered offside mirror for the other coach. Still we get in to Hanover Square in one piece. Gill and Ian decide on the British Museum while I decide that as the day is nice its a day for blue plaque spotting - or rather just plaque spotting as target number one is in fact not a blue plaque but a black one erected by the London borough of Hackerney. I catch the 73 bus and scant moments later am standing on exotic Stoke Newington Church Street in front of a side entrance to Abney Park
Abney Park was one of the "Magnificent Seven" - a series of cemeteries designed to ease the burden on the cities churchyards after the massive increase in population in the nineteenth century. Along with Highgate, Kensal Green, West Norwood, Nunhead, Brompton and Tower Hamlets they were built in the 1830s and 40s. I have to admit that Ive only been to Kensal Green and Highgate. Abney Park is much more like Highgate. Its a nature sanctuary, its headstones and statuary nestled in bramble and coppice. The Eastern European drunks were perhaps a less picaresque decoration. I didnt have much of a chance to investigate but really liked what I saw, cyclists and joggers (preparing for the next days marathon), dog-walkers all ambling through the little green oasis. It lacks the big names of Highgate and Kensal Green, I guess that the most famous inhabitants are the Salvation Army Booths whose graves I found and who have all apparently been "promoted to Glory". Stoke Newington has a history of religious dissent which is reflected in the cemetery and the monuments to past inhabitants. Just across the road is the blue plaque to Daniel Defoes house. And the history of Abney Park is littered with Quakers and Baptists, Methodists and Congrregationalists. Abney Park was originally designed as a garden cemetery and arboretum inspired by Mount Auburn garden in the then new nation being established across the pond.
I rather liked the look of Stoke Newington Church Street in the sunshine, chatting mums, curry houses, sidewalk cafes and all...
As it was a sunsoaked day I decided to wander back South into the heart of the city keeping my peepers peeled for points of interest. Its a fascinating study watching the changes as you stroll, some changes made by choice, some by circumstance (Myddleton Square was widely remodelled by the Luftwaffe in 1940). And theres certainly plenty to see walking back through Canonbury and Islington, Finsbury and Clerkenwell. As were in the run up to a general election it was also interesting to see the changes of political allegiance. The ex-home of Louis McNiece proudly proclaimed "No Labour Canvassers Allowed and this in the heart of the New Labour experiment, Islington. There were also mementoes of past political movers and shakers again the form of plaquage - both the Headquarters of the African National Congress in Penton Street and one proclaiming that Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov woz ere in leafy Percy Square that was spotted while not particularly enjoying a rather indifferent veggieburger and chips.
Abney Park was one of the "Magnificent Seven" - a series of cemeteries designed to ease the burden on the cities churchyards after the massive increase in population in the nineteenth century. Along with Highgate, Kensal Green, West Norwood, Nunhead, Brompton and Tower Hamlets they were built in the 1830s and 40s. I have to admit that Ive only been to Kensal Green and Highgate. Abney Park is much more like Highgate. Its a nature sanctuary, its headstones and statuary nestled in bramble and coppice. The Eastern European drunks were perhaps a less picaresque decoration. I didnt have much of a chance to investigate but really liked what I saw, cyclists and joggers (preparing for the next days marathon), dog-walkers all ambling through the little green oasis. It lacks the big names of Highgate and Kensal Green, I guess that the most famous inhabitants are the Salvation Army Booths whose graves I found and who have all apparently been "promoted to Glory". Stoke Newington has a history of religious dissent which is reflected in the cemetery and the monuments to past inhabitants. Just across the road is the blue plaque to Daniel Defoes house. And the history of Abney Park is littered with Quakers and Baptists, Methodists and Congrregationalists. Abney Park was originally designed as a garden cemetery and arboretum inspired by Mount Auburn garden in the then new nation being established across the pond.
I rather liked the look of Stoke Newington Church Street in the sunshine, chatting mums, curry houses, sidewalk cafes and all...
As it was a sunsoaked day I decided to wander back South into the heart of the city keeping my peepers peeled for points of interest. Its a fascinating study watching the changes as you stroll, some changes made by choice, some by circumstance (Myddleton Square was widely remodelled by the Luftwaffe in 1940). And theres certainly plenty to see walking back through Canonbury and Islington, Finsbury and Clerkenwell. As were in the run up to a general election it was also interesting to see the changes of political allegiance. The ex-home of Louis McNiece proudly proclaimed "No Labour Canvassers Allowed and this in the heart of the New Labour experiment, Islington. There were also mementoes of past political movers and shakers again the form of plaquage - both the Headquarters of the African National Congress in Penton Street and one proclaiming that Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov woz ere in leafy Percy Square that was spotted while not particularly enjoying a rather indifferent veggieburger and chips.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
41
Well the day is nearly done, I'm sitting and semi-watching Match of the Day 2 in the fading minutes of my 41st birthday. Overall it's been a nice if quiet day with Marie in March. We spent the morning in bed, opening prezzies and cards and getting the odd text before making our way dowstairs were we perused a couple of recipe books on the search for cake makings. Its Suzie's brthday tomorrow so after discussion she'll bring in cakes tomorrow and I'll supply comestibles on Tuesday. After last Bonfire Night's success I wanted to retry Erica's Dark Cocolate and Marmalade cake and also wanted another crack at a carrot cake after a semi-failiure last time out with a double take on the icing. things seemed to go alright although we were stopped outside Tescos after daring to fill our own reuseable bag and then emptying it and refilling it at the self-service checkout. We adjourned round the corner at Smiths Chase for a plateful of loveliness courtesy of Ma Flello as the Arse ruled themselves out of the Premiership title after capitulating at Wigan. I and Pa Flello were both in a mellow mood after good results for our respective Uniteds - Him Manchester, me Cambridge. His result was rather more meaningful Cambridge being becalmed in midtable after a funny old season - Chester being chucked out of the league, the pre-season board room shenanigans, losing our star striker and our captain. Im optimistic if we can keep hold of our young players (and hopefully retain a few of the old lags) that things will improve next season. I'd given up on getting the lovely if expensive Lived in London but the Flello's had pushed the boat out. M got me the Lonely Planet for Bulgaria and hopefully we can make some progress on the trip over the next week.I'm unsure as to whether the monastery at Rila neccessitates a detour or whether we go straight from Sofia to Plovdiv...
Monday, 12 April 2010
Charles Rolls (1877-1910)
The other recent addition to the illustrious lists of blue plaques is Charles Rolls whos blue plaque is in Conduit Street Mayfair. Thats half of Rolls-Royce, and a Cambridge man at that. He studied Mechanical and Applied Science at Trinity. He was the fourth man in England to own a car (how freaky is that - only four cars in the entire country!!) He was a founder member of the Automobile Club of Great Britian and also a founder member of the Royal Aero Club and an avid enthusiast, promoting the new and growing motoring industry. He was the salesman and joined forces with Henry Royce who was born just down the road near Peterborough. Rolls died early at the age of 32 in an air accident. He was in fact the first Briton to be killed, and only the eleventh in the world - possibly not a first he was looking for.
I'm not sure that his daredevil, pioneering spirit would recognise the queues of metal boxes crowding our roads day in day out. Its a far cry from early motoring...
I guess I should say that Im attempting now, at nearly 41 years of age to learn to drive. I'm ploughing through the Theory Test book in an effort to cram some motoring know-how into my cranium. Most of the questions are rather common-sensical and then once that hurdle is jumped then its on to actually do the scary driving thing. M is allowing me behind the wheel of her Clio and I havent killed anyone yet so BONUS!! I have to admit its not a skill that I particularly cherish. The practical aplication of driving will be is that we can if we choose find a house out of Cambridge, which is damnably expensive. It'll also help spread the load of driving so that m doesnt have to do all of it. And yes it'll be nice to get into the car and drive but alternatively itll be less miles cycled which wont do my waistline any favours, I have to say that of late cycling is just a delight, layers are being shed, the fleece tog ratings are falling as the warm weather approaches and there are days when I would happily keep cycling rather than wander into the office round about 9 in the a.
Not I have to say that a Rolls would be much of an option I'm keeping my eyes peeled for a Mk II Jaguar for when we win the lottery -- actually theyre very reasonably priced certainly compared to one of the aforementioned metal boxes. It would be nice to own something with a little personality but at the mo I have to say that car ownership does not appeal - the present idea is for me to be included on Maries insurance policy.
I'm not sure that his daredevil, pioneering spirit would recognise the queues of metal boxes crowding our roads day in day out. Its a far cry from early motoring...
I guess I should say that Im attempting now, at nearly 41 years of age to learn to drive. I'm ploughing through the Theory Test book in an effort to cram some motoring know-how into my cranium. Most of the questions are rather common-sensical and then once that hurdle is jumped then its on to actually do the scary driving thing. M is allowing me behind the wheel of her Clio and I havent killed anyone yet so BONUS!! I have to admit its not a skill that I particularly cherish. The practical aplication of driving will be is that we can if we choose find a house out of Cambridge, which is damnably expensive. It'll also help spread the load of driving so that m doesnt have to do all of it. And yes it'll be nice to get into the car and drive but alternatively itll be less miles cycled which wont do my waistline any favours, I have to say that of late cycling is just a delight, layers are being shed, the fleece tog ratings are falling as the warm weather approaches and there are days when I would happily keep cycling rather than wander into the office round about 9 in the a.
Not I have to say that a Rolls would be much of an option I'm keeping my eyes peeled for a Mk II Jaguar for when we win the lottery -- actually theyre very reasonably priced certainly compared to one of the aforementioned metal boxes. It would be nice to own something with a little personality but at the mo I have to say that car ownership does not appeal - the present idea is for me to be included on Maries insurance policy.
Monday, 5 April 2010
Wing Commander F.F.E. Yeo-Thomas (1902-1964)
A new addition to the legion of blue plaque holders (in fact there have been two in the last month) Wing Commander F.F.E. Yeo-Thomas. As I type I'm watching a documentary about orphan survivors of the holocaust. As far as I'm concerned anyone who fought in the conflict against the Nazis deserves recognition. It's amazing to think of the "last good war" in a world where the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan are viewed with a jaundiced eye by those who see the Halliburton contracts and where that money is ending up. Thats not to diminish the heroism of those engaged in those conflicts of course but such stories from the wars of the last century are commonplace.
Wing Commander Forest Frederick Edward Yeo-Thomas was educated in France after his family moved when he was a child, he fought with the Poles against the Russians in the First World War, was captured by the Russians and escaped execution only by strangling a guard. Between the wars he worked in a Paris Fashion House fleeing to Britain wheew he worked in intellegence for a while before joining the SOE, the Special Operations Executive who supported and coordinated resistance efforts against the occupying Nazi forces. Yeo-Thomas parachuted into occupied France three times, twice in 1943 where he aided the orgainisation and supply to arms and equipment to the resistance and then again in 1944. He was captured at Passy Metro station after being betrayed and was taken to the Gestapo Headquarters in Paris where he was tortured, including being water-boarded (which as we all know is not torture at all, just a excuse for a quick wash for the prisoner or am I perhaps being a tad cynical here?) He was transported to Buchenwald concentration camp where he met the officer in charge of 168 allied prisoners being held at the notorious concentration camp. He escaped and reached American lines. I would say that that was where his war ended but he also was a prosecution and a defence witness during the Dachau War Crimes Trial. He died in 1964 after returning to civilian life, working for a French fashion house. A truly astonishing life and one that deserves to be celebrated. The irony of a secret agent being celebrated in such a public manner is not entirely lost here I have to say.
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Getting old
A while back the Davemeister asked on facebook for a list of the 50 best gigs of your life. You were only allowed to list the headliners and no festivals were allowed. I stuggled I have to say. The last gig that I went to was months ago - The late and very much lamented Broken Family Band at the Junction which is itself 20 years old this year. I'd have loved to go and see James at the Corn Exchange in April but its a sell-out. I was hoping to get to Latitude for the first time this year as opposed to the Cambridge Folk Festival which has for the last few years been a chance to meet up with old friends but what with one thing and another that doesnt look like its going to happen. I guess its money as much as anything - most gigs now go for £20 even at a shed like the Junction and for a name band youre quite likely to be paying big money. For the price of a Glastonbury ticket you could buy a budget airline flight pretty much anywhere in Europe. Added to that is the propensity to repeatedly see the same artist - a quick glance at the pinboard in the kitchen - a pinboard surrounded by the papery memories of gigs gone by shows an awful lot of Billy Bragg and Orbital tickets - and thats not counting the times that Ive seen them at Glasto or the Cambridge Folk Festival. And again I think theres the slow process of osification of the aural canal when new music becomes harder and harder to hear, or rather slips further and further down the list of priorities. Lets face it if its a choice between paying your council tax or another CD we know where thats going to end up... And so I end up trying to defend myself against a charge levied by myself - of getting old.
Monday, 22 March 2010
Sir Charles Villiers Stanford (1852 - 1924)
It wasn't the best of Saturdays. I was still suffering from a stomach bug, we ended up missing both the Pub Quiz and also Question Time as we had an early night. We took the car into town to get a few bits and pieces and left it in the staff car park returning later encumbered by comic boxes and also the reborrowed Lived in London book only to find that the electronic gate was locked. Next to the staff car park was the blue plaque for Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, who was Professor of Music from 1887 to 1924 and was renowned for his choral works. Must admit I'd never heard of the guy which I suspect could also be said for most others. We stumped up for a taxi and then strolled back in the missle to find that we'd gone to the wrong college so ended up missing the start of the Fairhaven Singers performance of St. John's Passion which we both enjoyed in the lovely surrounds of St. John's. That's St. John's NOT Jesus college chapel. Fortunately we managed to sneak in (not to our previously set seats provided by the lovely Cullen which were right down the front though). I was going to say that Ive never been all that interested in choral music but thinking about it I do - just not classical choral music. From the harmony singing of the Beach Boys through the Motown Era to strange Bulgarian choral singing which I have to admit I'm rather partial to. Actually I'd love to maybe catch a performance on our visit. I did go and see a choir at the Cambridge Corn Exchange a few years back. Their version of Somewhere over the rainbow is certainly something that I'll never forget.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Rudyard Kipling reprise
I realised a couple of days ago that theres another Kipling link - Beautiful Bundi. I visited for a few magical days between the traveller hellhole of Pushkar - full of arseholes attempting to outtraveller each other while sitting around navel gazing and the earthy charms of Kota and Chittorgarh. I suspect that Bundi would by now have been firmly established on the traveller trail so I don't think I'll be revisiting - but rather enjoying my memories of this quiet little rest stop, its castle perched precipitately on the side of a mountain and the blue town spread below that Kipling described as "such a palace as men build for themselves in uneasy dreams, the work of goblins rather than of men" of a cycle ride out in blistering heat to the Jait Sagar lake where Kipling stayed and of the Krishna tea shop after being accosted by a stentorian "Attention!" It takes something to excel in the chai department on the sub-continent but that particular establishment certainly did. I remember the hordes of minkeys being chased of by a caretaker and the astonishing engineering of the towns step wells. Reading back through my journal it seems that I was going through the worse of Yaz withdrawl - lying awake in the beautiful Haveli I was staying in, tears running down my face. And here we are 4 years later and barely in touch. How times change...hopefully in the right direction, I think in my case very much so although Yaz is still closeted. I also rememebr the lovely home cooking a coule of houses down which was a bit of a traveller hang-out chowing down with a tableful of new friends. Hopefully M and Iare in good shape and thinking of our next grip which will hopefully take in a taste of Bulgaria before revisiting Istanbul - this time in hopefully rather more seasonable weather. I think that the idea of staying inland from Malaga is prettyy much stymied. I have to say that its not a destination that really fills me with excitement. Ma and Pa also raised the possibility of a trip to Libya which is high on my list of dream destinations...but with Maries probable career change and also the prospect of moving in together we'll have to see...
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Ali Mohammed Abbas 1922 - 1979
I guess that Ali Mohammed Abbas is one of those guys that blue plaques are there for someone who worked behind the scenes of one of the most significant events of the twentieth century, the Partition of India. So, his name doesn't resonate like that of Gandhi or Nehru or Jinnah but he and others like him founded the Sub-continental states. He was empowered by his wealthy maternal grandfather whose money saw him educated, he became a student representative and joined the ALl India Muslim League. Like many Indian nationalists he came to Britain to pursue the dream of Indian independence and a career in the law. He was a groundbreaker, the first Asian barrister to appear in all the levels of court in England and set up nearly 30 schools across England to teach Pakistani immigrants english. In 1947 his house in Tavistock Square became the unofficial embassy of Pakistan.
His blue plaque is sited at 33 Tavistock Square, metres from the site of one of the terrorist atrocities that took place on 7th July 2005 when Hasib Hussein detonated an explosive device on a bus killing 13 innocent people. Hussein was a British-born Muslim of Pakistani descent.
I can't help but wonder what Abbas, an educated Muslim who lived by the law would have made of the modern Islamist movement with their utter disregard for life?
I've been fortunate to travel a little in the former British colonies in South Asia, both in India and Sri Lanka, both countries have problems; India has its own religious strife, particularly between Hindus and Muslims and the massive divide detween rich and poor has developed a bubbling Naxalite insurgency. Sri Lanka has its own horrors (hopefully now over) with the Tamil Tiger atrocities (who knew that the first suicide bombers werent Muslim?) and the governments heavy handed responses. But neither of those two states stand on the brink of failiure as Pakistan does. I don't pretend to be an expert in Pakistani politics but the tribalism inherent in the country seems to me to be a major factor.
His blue plaque is sited at 33 Tavistock Square, metres from the site of one of the terrorist atrocities that took place on 7th July 2005 when Hasib Hussein detonated an explosive device on a bus killing 13 innocent people. Hussein was a British-born Muslim of Pakistani descent.
I can't help but wonder what Abbas, an educated Muslim who lived by the law would have made of the modern Islamist movement with their utter disregard for life?
I've been fortunate to travel a little in the former British colonies in South Asia, both in India and Sri Lanka, both countries have problems; India has its own religious strife, particularly between Hindus and Muslims and the massive divide detween rich and poor has developed a bubbling Naxalite insurgency. Sri Lanka has its own horrors (hopefully now over) with the Tamil Tiger atrocities (who knew that the first suicide bombers werent Muslim?) and the governments heavy handed responses. But neither of those two states stand on the brink of failiure as Pakistan does. I don't pretend to be an expert in Pakistani politics but the tribalism inherent in the country seems to me to be a major factor.
Monday, 1 March 2010
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
Spotted on our last trip to London tucked behind Charing Cross station just by Villiers Street which gets a visit from us fairly regularly as theres a South African foods store just round the corner featuring all the familiar names from M's time in South Africa. Kipling was born in Bombay and I think as an Anglo-Indian has the clarity of vision that only tends to come with the eyes of an outsider.He returned to England after a stint in America in 1889. He wrote "meantime, I had found me quarters in Villiers Street, Strand, which forty-six years ago was primitive and passionate in its habits and population. My rooms were small, not over-clean or well-kept, but from my desk I could look out of my window through the fanlight of Gatti's Music-Hall entrance, across the street, almost on to the stage. The Charing Cross trains rumbled through my dreams on one side, the boom of the Strand on the other, while, before my windows, Father Thames under the Shot Tower walked up and down with his traffic"
Coincidentally Kipling's name has come up a couple of times of late firstly because I'm reading Billy Bragg's The Progressive Patriot - Our Bill was brought up with Kipling and also because he recently got a whole issue of Mike Carey and Peter Gross' The Unwritten. He carries baggage does our Rudyard in this post-imperial age. He was a contentious figure even during his lifetime, Orwell called him "a phophet of British imperialism" whether he was that or rather as Billy believes him to be more of a chronicaller of the Raj is a guess a matter of opinion, he was a great writer, maybe not in the modern sense but as a tale-teller and I think that thats what both the Braggmeister and Mike Carey have picked up on. And he does have a way with words, that I think is beyond doubt. He also shifted position fairly radically especially after the death of his son, John at the battle of Loos in 1915. He wrote My So Jack afterwards containing the klines "If any question why we died / Tell them because our fathers lied" which I think speaks volumes about the guilt that he felt about his earlier unquestioning support for the war. To my mind he was quite simply a man of his times, the sentiments expressed in poems like The White Mans burden
Take up the white man's burden
Send forth the best ye breed
Go, bind your your sons to exile
To serve the captives need;
To wait, in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild
Your new-caught sullen peoples
Half devil and half child
were utterly unremarkable for the time. Personally I'll go with "what knows he of England / who only England knows.
Strangely I don't think I've ever read any of his work. Dad raised me on tales of derring-do from the Likes of H.Rider Haggard, John Buchan and Captain W.E. Johns but not Kipling.
Coincidentally Kipling's name has come up a couple of times of late firstly because I'm reading Billy Bragg's The Progressive Patriot - Our Bill was brought up with Kipling and also because he recently got a whole issue of Mike Carey and Peter Gross' The Unwritten. He carries baggage does our Rudyard in this post-imperial age. He was a contentious figure even during his lifetime, Orwell called him "a phophet of British imperialism" whether he was that or rather as Billy believes him to be more of a chronicaller of the Raj is a guess a matter of opinion, he was a great writer, maybe not in the modern sense but as a tale-teller and I think that thats what both the Braggmeister and Mike Carey have picked up on. And he does have a way with words, that I think is beyond doubt. He also shifted position fairly radically especially after the death of his son, John at the battle of Loos in 1915. He wrote My So Jack afterwards containing the klines "If any question why we died / Tell them because our fathers lied" which I think speaks volumes about the guilt that he felt about his earlier unquestioning support for the war. To my mind he was quite simply a man of his times, the sentiments expressed in poems like The White Mans burden
Take up the white man's burden
Send forth the best ye breed
Go, bind your your sons to exile
To serve the captives need;
To wait, in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild
Your new-caught sullen peoples
Half devil and half child
were utterly unremarkable for the time. Personally I'll go with "what knows he of England / who only England knows.
Strangely I don't think I've ever read any of his work. Dad raised me on tales of derring-do from the Likes of H.Rider Haggard, John Buchan and Captain W.E. Johns but not Kipling.
Sunday, 21 February 2010
Wiliam Abling continued
By some lucky happenstance Longitude was on Yesterday today - it's a quite astonishing film with a stellar cast - Michael Gambon, Ian Hart, Brian Cox, Bill Nighy, Jeremy Irons, Ian McNiece not to mention Tim "Lord Percy" McInnerny who I once saw as Hamlet and follows the travails of John Harrison who struggled for his entire life to construct an accurate chronometer that would be able to be used at sea and thus allow Britannia to rule the waves and also the struggle to restore this amazing pieces of engineering. It's down to John Harrison that the Greenwich meridian is the prime meridian. I guess as a adjunct I should mention by Civilization addiction - presently in abeyance and the realisation that such technical advances affect the development of nations, of civilizations of the world massively. I had no idea that Clerkenwell was a hotbed of watchmaking, we spotted the old Ingasol factory on our wanderings last week. It's also well known for brewing and distillation and printing. Now you see this is why I love blue plaque spotting - it points you to these areas of London that you really do have little or no idea of. All of a sudden your attention is brought to this realisation that the city that presently exists lives on top of / alongside of / around this astonishing history, this wealth that is under our feet. Clerkenwell has a long history, starting with a monastic settlement ironically by the Knights Hospitaliers of St. John who after our litle soujourn in Malta we know a little more of, it became a area of fashionable spas before blossoming in the Industrial Revolution before it's post-war fall into decrepitude....
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
William Abling
Isn't name that you should recognise. He was a watchmaker in the early 19th century in Wynyatt Road in Islington. The area was apparently well known for horologists. I guess a remnant of the old guild system from the middle ages. We'd wandered south from Angel tube after a bit of a wander round central London - Covent Garden to be specific. We were in town for Valentine's Day after flying in to Heathrow the previous evening after our week in Malta. The holiday was a bit of a disappointment actually. You'd think that an island that rich in history would treasure it's heritage but the government seem much more intent on milking the lucrative tourist trade. Don't get me wrong the history is there but it's pretty far down the list on the typical sunseeker's priority list - after sun, cheap booze, english-speaking natives, familiar food and the list goes on...We'd surveyed the Grand Master's Palace in Valletta now the home of the Maltese government and a rather impressive armoury of mediaeval pointyness and spent our few remaining Euros before surveying the mounting insanity of Carnival before rattling out to Sliema to collect our bags and return to the charabang thronged bus station and heading out to the airport. We took the tube into town from Heathrow which is always rather special to me although more so if you do it in the light of for preference as the sun goes down. We made it across town to Stratford where we collapsed for the night. The hotel was maybe not somewhere to spend vast amounts of time but for a night and a night when we were both exhausted it wasnt a problem. It was nice to sit in bed and watch the city come to life - not something that I usually get in my little backwater of a backwater. We tubed it into town clutching our Starbucks, our bank balances checked and headed first for Foyles and then the Radley and Tintin shops in Covent Garden before wandering round the market after discovering the late start for the shops. We spotted a couple of plaques before heading up to Angel for our target the aforementioned William Abling. Theres very little known about the man - a quick websearch brings up the fact that he was known to have lived at the house in Wynyatt Street according to the Clock Museum but they didn't know of the plaque. All very mysterious...actually I rather like that idea - a plaque devoted to someone that noone knows anything about. But thats the thing about a city isnt it - the interactions of millions of individuals and whos to say that William Abling didnt in his own way affect history because isnt that what chaos theory teaches us? That every action affects the world? Maybe at some point we'll return to the subject of John Harrison, chronometers and their affect on the history of the world....
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Charles Darwin continued
Well we're hopefully off to Malta next weekend for a week of what will hopefully be winter sun. I get the distinct feeling that a failure in the warmth / sun stakes will possibly end in eye pokage from Marie. We had snow again on Friday night, fortunately it was little more than a sprinkling that has all but disappeared already. Expedia have slipped up so we have a hotel reservation but as yet no plane tickets. 40 minutes on the phone today failed to resolve the problem. Don't you just love automated phone systems? So, in short no blog next week...
I guess my final couple of comments maybe betrayed my general attitude to religion. While Marx was wrong in many ways I'm prepared to accept the whole "religion being the opium of the masses" idea, whether that's a theist faith or a political ideology I think that anything that disables the human process of questioning is a deeply terrifying idea. That's not to say everyone with a faith is prone to a lack of analysis, there are those who spend their lives contemplating their place in the universe, in what is for many people God's creation. And we praise that lack of analysis, that lack of questioning - we call it strength of faith. The acceptance of God's word or at any rate God's word as interpreted more often than not by some beardy bloke is seen as a desirable quality, question orthodoxy - political orthodoxy, scientific orthodoxy, religious orthodoxy and you enter a world of pain (sometimes quite literally) The idea of being sure enough in a belief to behead someone, to blow someone up, to shoot someone that to me is a truly terrifying thing. This week an anti abortionist went on trial in Kansas - he shot a doctor in church, pressing a gun against his head and pulling the trigger. He pleaded for voluntary manslaughter as he believed that he was protecting the unborn by his action. Weird how so many anti-abortionists aren't the ones to have to go through the process, the painful and damaging process due to the fact that they own a dick isn't it? Anyhoo 151 years after Darwin's On the Origin of Species is published and it's being adapted, it's evolving (Ha!), it's being questioned, but it's as good as we've got. The guy definately deserves his blue plaque.
I guess my final couple of comments maybe betrayed my general attitude to religion. While Marx was wrong in many ways I'm prepared to accept the whole "religion being the opium of the masses" idea, whether that's a theist faith or a political ideology I think that anything that disables the human process of questioning is a deeply terrifying idea. That's not to say everyone with a faith is prone to a lack of analysis, there are those who spend their lives contemplating their place in the universe, in what is for many people God's creation. And we praise that lack of analysis, that lack of questioning - we call it strength of faith. The acceptance of God's word or at any rate God's word as interpreted more often than not by some beardy bloke is seen as a desirable quality, question orthodoxy - political orthodoxy, scientific orthodoxy, religious orthodoxy and you enter a world of pain (sometimes quite literally) The idea of being sure enough in a belief to behead someone, to blow someone up, to shoot someone that to me is a truly terrifying thing. This week an anti abortionist went on trial in Kansas - he shot a doctor in church, pressing a gun against his head and pulling the trigger. He pleaded for voluntary manslaughter as he believed that he was protecting the unborn by his action. Weird how so many anti-abortionists aren't the ones to have to go through the process, the painful and damaging process due to the fact that they own a dick isn't it? Anyhoo 151 years after Darwin's On the Origin of Species is published and it's being adapted, it's evolving (Ha!), it's being questioned, but it's as good as we've got. The guy definately deserves his blue plaque.
Sunday, 24 January 2010
Charles Darwin (1809 - 1882)
So I'm wandering round town on my lunch break last week and espy high on the wall of the Boots pharmacy in central Cambridge a previously unnoticed blue plaque marking the site of Charles Darwins house. Darwins connections to Cambridge are extensive - After abandoning his studies in Edinburgh his father enrolled him at Christs' College in 1827 to read for a Bachelor of Arts degree prior to joining the priesthood. His studies didn't begin well but his interest in natural history flourished. He lodged above a tobacconists in Sidney Street He spent time with his cousin William Fox and met Adam Sedgwick the geologist and also William Paley the natural theologian and in his final year he came under the influence of the eminent botanist Henslow who saw no conflict between science and religion. He was recommended by Henslow as ship's naturalist for a proposed journey by H.M.S. Beagle - five year expedition into the Pacific beginning in 1831. He spent most of his time on board map-making, investigating geology and collecting biological specimens including fossil remains from Patagonia. It was however his work in the Galapagos Islands were his groundbreaking work, work that continues to shake the foundations of our world. He found tiny variations in the fauna of the various islands which led him to postulate on "that mystery of mysteries, the replacement of extinct species by others" During the expedition Darwins' specimens had been returned to Cambridge and on his return work began on cataloging the extensive backlog of work. In 1836 he returned to Fitzwilliam Street Cambridge to organise the work and rewrite his journal. He wrote papers on geography and zoology before moving first to London and then to Kent. There's also Darwin College founded in 1964 to cater for graduate students - the main college building was owned by Darwin's son George and his grandson Charles.
In 2002 the BBC gawd bless em listed the 100 greatest Britons. Darwin came fourth in the poll behind Churchill (OK fair enough - I'll give them that one though is he any more a Great Briton that Elizabeth I or any of those who have struggled against various foreign threats to our island nation), Lady Di (Oh FFS people. Please raise your game here. A brain dead Sloane clotheshorse who left the world no better than when she found it) and Isambard Kingdom Brunel (Yes, a pivotal figure in the industrial revolution but championed by the odious Jeremy Clarkson.) There were two figures in the top 10 who I think could truly be considered to have been world movers - Newton and Darwin - both of whom revolutionised the way that humanity perceives itself, who helped to reveal our place in the universe. Personally I would go for Darwin theres a feeling there that he was very aware of what his theories would do, how they would be misused to justify acts of unbelievable cruelty through programmes like eugenics. Plus of course theres the fact that in one fell swoop he managed to piss off every fundamentalist religious nutbar - not that theyre exactly an endangered species themselves....
In 2002 the BBC gawd bless em listed the 100 greatest Britons. Darwin came fourth in the poll behind Churchill (OK fair enough - I'll give them that one though is he any more a Great Briton that Elizabeth I or any of those who have struggled against various foreign threats to our island nation), Lady Di (Oh FFS people. Please raise your game here. A brain dead Sloane clotheshorse who left the world no better than when she found it) and Isambard Kingdom Brunel (Yes, a pivotal figure in the industrial revolution but championed by the odious Jeremy Clarkson.) There were two figures in the top 10 who I think could truly be considered to have been world movers - Newton and Darwin - both of whom revolutionised the way that humanity perceives itself, who helped to reveal our place in the universe. Personally I would go for Darwin theres a feeling there that he was very aware of what his theories would do, how they would be misused to justify acts of unbelievable cruelty through programmes like eugenics. Plus of course theres the fact that in one fell swoop he managed to piss off every fundamentalist religious nutbar - not that theyre exactly an endangered species themselves....
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Bobby Abel (1857-1936)
Did I say that I was looking forward to Joburg? I take it all back. An innings and 74 runs defeat in the final test of the series and two draws nicked by the skin of our teeth meant a drawn series and South Africa retaining the basil D'Oliveira trophy. Not that I wouldn't have accepted a drawn series before it had all begun - but to have snatched defeat from the jaws of victory always hurts but like the man says "If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two pretenders just the same" and in a week when disaster, true disaster visited Haiti I think that a degree of philosophy is called for when dealing with matters of sport.
Ironically Bobby Abel was replaced at Surrey and England by Jack Hobbs who eclipsed his achievements. But he rose from humble origins and was the first Englishman to carry his bat through an entire test innings and indeed carried his bat through an innings of 811 - he scored 357 runs still a Surrey record and scored 2000 runs in consecutive seasons. And yet I suspect that most cricket fans (the putative father-in-law included will never have heard of him.) And if his blue plaque hadn't have been on my hitlist I would also have been in the same boat. He, like I suspect and awful lot of cricketers live in the shadow of the good doctor, W.G.Grace. C.B. Fry said of him "He gathers runs like blackberries, wherever he goes" His later career was blighted by the growth of fast bowling and deteriorating eyesight. He died in 1936- totally blind. His blue plaque is located in Southwark Park where he learnt the game and was discovered.
It was the starting point of a frozen frolic around Rotherhithe a couple of weekends ago. We used the BBC walk starting by Canada Wharf and finishing at the presently closed Rotherhithe tube station. We took in the long loop of the river a loop that back in London's heyday would have been crammed with wharfs, whalers and wherries. There's precious little to mark what was the busiest port in the world - courtesy of the remodelling carried out by the Luftwaffe in 1940 and the transformation during the Thatcher junta in the 80s. It's a far cry from the the rough and ready haunt not frequented by the well-to-do. There are reminders though, streets named after the points of origin of many of the incoming ships - Odessa Street, Bergen Square, Quebec Way - places of Worship for the travelling Norwegian and Swedish seamen. The pub names speak volumes - The Moby Dick, The Ship not to mention the Mayflower pub which via Southampton and Plymouth made it's way across the pond in 1620. It's master Christopher Jones is buried across the road at St. Mary's.
Ironically Bobby Abel was replaced at Surrey and England by Jack Hobbs who eclipsed his achievements. But he rose from humble origins and was the first Englishman to carry his bat through an entire test innings and indeed carried his bat through an innings of 811 - he scored 357 runs still a Surrey record and scored 2000 runs in consecutive seasons. And yet I suspect that most cricket fans (the putative father-in-law included will never have heard of him.) And if his blue plaque hadn't have been on my hitlist I would also have been in the same boat. He, like I suspect and awful lot of cricketers live in the shadow of the good doctor, W.G.Grace. C.B. Fry said of him "He gathers runs like blackberries, wherever he goes" His later career was blighted by the growth of fast bowling and deteriorating eyesight. He died in 1936- totally blind. His blue plaque is located in Southwark Park where he learnt the game and was discovered.
It was the starting point of a frozen frolic around Rotherhithe a couple of weekends ago. We used the BBC walk starting by Canada Wharf and finishing at the presently closed Rotherhithe tube station. We took in the long loop of the river a loop that back in London's heyday would have been crammed with wharfs, whalers and wherries. There's precious little to mark what was the busiest port in the world - courtesy of the remodelling carried out by the Luftwaffe in 1940 and the transformation during the Thatcher junta in the 80s. It's a far cry from the the rough and ready haunt not frequented by the well-to-do. There are reminders though, streets named after the points of origin of many of the incoming ships - Odessa Street, Bergen Square, Quebec Way - places of Worship for the travelling Norwegian and Swedish seamen. The pub names speak volumes - The Moby Dick, The Ship not to mention the Mayflower pub which via Southampton and Plymouth made it's way across the pond in 1620. It's master Christopher Jones is buried across the road at St. Mary's.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
Jack Hobbs (1882-1963)
After the great year enjoyed by English cricket I thought that Jack Hobbs whose blue plaque is one of the previously mentioned blue plaques within spitting distance of my place of employment (Disclaimer:I haven't actually done the spitting test - I'm not too sure that my line manager would appreciate it) Jack Hobbs' blue plaque is on Hobbs' Pavilion on Parkers Piece in Cambridge which holds several claims to fame, not least the first codified game of Association Football but I digress...
Jack Hobbs is the only England representative in Wisden's top 5 cricketers of the 20th century (He came third after Sir Don Bradman and Sir Garfield Sobers) he was inducted into the ICC Hall of Fame in 2009. A look at his statistics speak for themselves over 61,000 first class runs, 197 first class centuries are truly extraordinary and are unlikely ever to be surpassed as in the modern game fewer games are played. And in many ways he can't be compared to a modern player. His career spanned the years 1905-1934 and the game has changed immeasurably since that time. He was a gentleman player and though there are still moments when you can see those amateur roots it simply isn't the game that he played. Maybe it's that recentism that I spoke of in my last post that means that his is not a name that is a readily remembered one - maybe its also a mark of the fact that cricket though enjoying moments of popularity can't compare in popularity with that of football. I'm not sure if England has a national sport - but if it does I guess it's football - but then again can you get a English pursuit than cricket? But this is one of the five greatest players of the game of the 20th century - he was nicknamed "the Master" - why aren't we doing more to commemorate him? I guess we're British and I guess - because he was British in every sense of the word - hugely modest and self-assuming.
I never got cricket when I was younger. I think that it's something that you grow into - or at least Test cricket is. A very different for the hit it out of the ground, cheerleaders and fireworks of the IPL. But grow to love it I have. Part athleticism and part cerebral its got something for everyone. The last test in Cape Town is a great example - sneaking glimpses at the BBC Sports website as the overs slipped by. Holding your breath as the fragile balance swings by skill or chance. Yeah it helps my the girlfriend was brought up in South Africa where along with some fairly bizarre strands of Christianity, sport or more particularly the "white" sports of Cricket and Rugby Union are treated as religions. So we had some late bedbound mornings over the Christmas break listening to TMS. Looking forward to Joburg....
Jack Hobbs is the only England representative in Wisden's top 5 cricketers of the 20th century (He came third after Sir Don Bradman and Sir Garfield Sobers) he was inducted into the ICC Hall of Fame in 2009. A look at his statistics speak for themselves over 61,000 first class runs, 197 first class centuries are truly extraordinary and are unlikely ever to be surpassed as in the modern game fewer games are played. And in many ways he can't be compared to a modern player. His career spanned the years 1905-1934 and the game has changed immeasurably since that time. He was a gentleman player and though there are still moments when you can see those amateur roots it simply isn't the game that he played. Maybe it's that recentism that I spoke of in my last post that means that his is not a name that is a readily remembered one - maybe its also a mark of the fact that cricket though enjoying moments of popularity can't compare in popularity with that of football. I'm not sure if England has a national sport - but if it does I guess it's football - but then again can you get a English pursuit than cricket? But this is one of the five greatest players of the game of the 20th century - he was nicknamed "the Master" - why aren't we doing more to commemorate him? I guess we're British and I guess - because he was British in every sense of the word - hugely modest and self-assuming.
I never got cricket when I was younger. I think that it's something that you grow into - or at least Test cricket is. A very different for the hit it out of the ground, cheerleaders and fireworks of the IPL. But grow to love it I have. Part athleticism and part cerebral its got something for everyone. The last test in Cape Town is a great example - sneaking glimpses at the BBC Sports website as the overs slipped by. Holding your breath as the fragile balance swings by skill or chance. Yeah it helps my the girlfriend was brought up in South Africa where along with some fairly bizarre strands of Christianity, sport or more particularly the "white" sports of Cricket and Rugby Union are treated as religions. So we had some late bedbound mornings over the Christmas break listening to TMS. Looking forward to Joburg....
Saturday, 2 January 2010
The beginning
Where to begin? Where to begin? OK an explanation. I live in an historic city, Cambridge, that's the original Cambridge. We have a River Cam there are bridges hence Cambridge. Cambridge boasts a rather niggardly 11 blue plaques considering the legion of the great and the good who have lived and studied in the city, I work within spitting distance of two Blue Plaques. The Blue Plaque Scheme was initiated in 1863 by William Ewart - an advanced Liberal MP who did much to amend the list of punishments seen as worthy by the british judiciary to denote "those houses in London which have been inhabited by celebrated persons..." It's a scheme that although presently administered by English Heritage has to be initiated by members of the public nominating an individual, the arcane process of selection can take up to six years and only a third of those nominated are granted the honour of a plaque. It's been imitated across the world and I think a valid one. Its an idea that combines interests of mine a mix of history, geography and learning pointless (can any learning be pointless?) facts. So when I visit the metropolis I take my camera along and keep my eyes peeled. Its quite a exercise bringing up some amazing juxtapositions - Jimi Hendrix living next door to Handel on Brook Street and also some amazing markers of the shifting nature of British life - ain't it a shocker how many of these people were immigrants or whose parents were immigrants. (Yeah Nick Griffin I'm looking at you here!) In addition I guess I like the Blue Plaque scheme as a reaction to the modern idea of celebrity and also against recentism that very human sense that the past fades as it recedes into history - under English Heritage's aegis any candidate for blue plaquage has to have been dead for 20 years or have been born over a hundred years ago (or both) which hopefully provides a little perspective on an individuals achievements or lack thereof. And some of those Blue Plaques commemorate those who we should remember rather more readily. Do you know who Dr Ernest Jones was or what William Henry Barlow's part in the industrial revolution was? Sic Transit Gloria and all that...
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