National Theatre releases some ten pound seats each day for that day's performance, so we head over for 10 a.m. and get 2 front row seats for England People Very Nice. This leaves us over 3 hours until curtain time so we put up our umbrellas and go over to the Barbican library.
The play itself is a sellout and quite funny. It looks, as promised, at centuries of immigration in successive waves to Londons Bethnal Green neighourhood. The point, of course, is that immigrants have always arrived, been resented, and eventually integrated and been replaced by other nationalities. It's sensitive material potentially, but the playwright has taken the modus used in the Simpsons - use outrageous caricature bvut be fair and satirise all groups with equal ruthlessness. And there are the running jokes: periodically a character says that there is no hell and this is all the heaven we'll ever get, to which the answer is "what, Bethnal Green?!" It's a long play, but fun.
JAWORSKI TRAVELS
We live our lives forever taking leave - Rilke
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Friday, 17 April 2009
Wednesday, April 15/2009
Warmest day so far predicted so we're off for the old city. Off the tube at Chancery Lane and with some difficulty we find Barnard's Inn Hall for the free Gresham lecture at 1. Pass first Staples Inn and a magnificent tudor lookiing building, not quite straight with age, with a tobacconist on the ground floor. They're both 16th century and we imagine Shakespeare walking down the road when they were new.
The lecture is full. The hall only holds about a hundred and we've been warned to be early to get a seat. The topic is interesting - is mental illness all in the genes - and there is some interesting research, but iti's a bit flat. (the genetic answer to the question is "mostly.") The questions are intelligent though and the answers competent.
It's warm (21) and sunny and we wander in the area. beautiful period buildings mixed with some of the monstrosities Prince Charles complains about. across from the royal Courts of Justice is a little pub, the Seven Stars. It claims to date from 602 and to have survived the Great Fire. Hard to say how much of the building is original but it's charming and old and friendly, a long narrow place with flowers outside and a resident black cat with a white ruffled collar.
Quick visit to St. clement Danes and we hop a number 13 bus home. Unlucky 13. Part way its in aminor accident with a small van. Not the fault of the bus driver. Switch buses and home via Finchley Road Sainsbury's.
The lecture is full. The hall only holds about a hundred and we've been warned to be early to get a seat. The topic is interesting - is mental illness all in the genes - and there is some interesting research, but iti's a bit flat. (the genetic answer to the question is "mostly.") The questions are intelligent though and the answers competent.
It's warm (21) and sunny and we wander in the area. beautiful period buildings mixed with some of the monstrosities Prince Charles complains about. across from the royal Courts of Justice is a little pub, the Seven Stars. It claims to date from 602 and to have survived the Great Fire. Hard to say how much of the building is original but it's charming and old and friendly, a long narrow place with flowers outside and a resident black cat with a white ruffled collar.
Quick visit to St. clement Danes and we hop a number 13 bus home. Unlucky 13. Part way its in aminor accident with a small van. Not the fault of the bus driver. Switch buses and home via Finchley Road Sainsbury's.
Tuesday, April 14/2009
A bit of electronic research at John Lewis. Ipods, notebooks, ebook readers. Lots of toys and a quiet atmosphere unlike the chaos on Tottenham Court road. On the way back J spots a mouse on the underground track.
Monday, April 13/2009
Two lovely walks. In the morning we go with Jenny to take the dogs to Telegraph Hill for a run. It's woodland near Claygate village, quite natural and a great place for the dogs to follow scents. In the afternoon we pick up Jenny's mum and go to Richmond Park. It's one of the oroiginal royal hunting parks and a huge park even for a city that is over a quarter green space. We head for the Isabella Plantation, some flowering trees over a hundred years old and fragrant with azaleas and heather as well as brilliant with camellias, oleander and rhododendrons as well. There are little streams and plenty of paths to wander and get lost on, which we do for a bit. Still full light after 6 and Jenny drops us at Wimbledon Station where we get a replacement coach to Clapham Jct - then Waterloo by train and Northern line home by eight.
Sunday, april 12/2009
Easter Sunday. Julia and Neil have coloured eggs and there is traditional Palestinian baking. Emma and Giles arrive with Jenny's mother and baby Jasmine, and then Laura and Nathan with Sam and Kai and baby Cody. Easter brunch is fun. the Clarkes have a traditional game involving the finding of the strongest egg by doing battle conker style and seeing which egg survives uncracked. Sam and Kai have great fun with quite convincing fake eggs.
Jenny's Palestinian aunts arrive for tea. Doug's sister and brother-in-law with son Graham and two granddaughters in tow as well, so by then there are 23 of us including the babies. A lovely time.
Jenny's Palestinian aunts arrive for tea. Doug's sister and brother-in-law with son Graham and two granddaughters in tow as well, so by then there are 23 of us including the babies. A lovely time.
Saturday, April 11/2009
Afternoon over to Jenny and Doug's. It's a bit chaotic transportation because of long weekend maintenance, so Jubilee line not running and coac replaces train between Clapham Junction and Surbiton and everything takes a bit longer. Drizzle as we arrive but sunny welcome. Weather improves and we go for a walk round Thames Ditton with Jenny. Doug back fore dinner and we're joined by Jenny's niece Julia, soon to be studying medicine at Kings college, and Julia's boyfriend Neil. Lovely stew for dinner.
Friday, April 10/2009
A bit drizzly off and on as befits a Good Friday, but quite warm. All kinds of disruption to the transport system but still ppossible to work out alternate routes. Thus we take the Northern to Bank and then Dockland Light Railway to West India Quay to visit the Museum of London Docklands. It's free this weekend so a good time to go. It's much smaller than the Museum of London proper but quite interesting in its own right, covering the history of the Thames and London as a port from pre-Roman times. The history of the bridges is of interest and there are lots of drawings and ship models and a pretty realistic recreation of a slightly sinister dockside area and buildings.
Thursday. April 9/2009
At Barbican check that our return flight to Canada is still at the same time as originally ticketed, mindful of the time the snippy air Canada rep at Heathrow said that departure times changed after daylight savings time began. And this was a consideration they had been unable to anticipate at time of sale? But no cha ge this year it seems.
Holy Thursday Mass at Westminster Cathedral, the last Easter for Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor who is retiring. As we walk from Victoria to the cathedral we see an old man bent over and slowly feeling his way along the wall of a tempporary walkway diverting us around construction. It's quite a distressing sight and I'm hoping he's finds his way to wherever he's going - which he evidently does as J sees him later in the front of the cathedral. It's standing room only and one of the most moving liturgies of the year, in Latin with full choir. The 12 men having their feet washed by Cathedral tradition are 12 pensioners from the Royal Chelsea Hospital of our yesterday's visit, resplendent in their brilliant red uniforms. The church remains open for prayer until midnight when there will be compline and the stripping of the altar, but we leave for home.
Holy Thursday Mass at Westminster Cathedral, the last Easter for Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor who is retiring. As we walk from Victoria to the cathedral we see an old man bent over and slowly feeling his way along the wall of a tempporary walkway diverting us around construction. It's quite a distressing sight and I'm hoping he's finds his way to wherever he's going - which he evidently does as J sees him later in the front of the cathedral. It's standing room only and one of the most moving liturgies of the year, in Latin with full choir. The 12 men having their feet washed by Cathedral tradition are 12 pensioners from the Royal Chelsea Hospital of our yesterday's visit, resplendent in their brilliant red uniforms. The church remains open for prayer until midnight when there will be compline and the stripping of the altar, but we leave for home.
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Wednesday, April 8/2009
Wake to hoofbeats - about 60 police horses being ridden and led past our flat.
Chelsea afternoon. We start at Sloan Square and pay a visit to the Saatchi Gallery. Interesting and often witty works, mostly by young artist from the Middle East. a fascinating display with several very convincing life sized men of various ethnic and cultural backgrounds all in motorized wheelchairs circulating in a room - their chairs changing direction as they encounter obstacles. There's a Greek Orthodox priest, a man in Arab headdress and a number of other characters. J tells a small child that only one is real and the boy is sure he's spotted which one.
Then to the Royal Chelsea Hospital grounds, home of the red-coated army pensiones. The grounds are lovely - a mini village with beautiful gardens, though not many pensioners in sight. After this we stop at the Army Museum next door. It's small and a bit randomly organised but there are some high points. There are a number of very good military paintings and a small display examining James Wolfe in images.
The walk down to the Thames is dotted with historic blue plaques - many notables have lived in the neighbourhood, including Oscar Wilde and George Eliot. We're supposed to finish at the King's Head and Eight Bells, drinking spot of Henry VIII, but, though we were once there before, no joy in finding it. Eventually the appalling reason emerges - it's been changed into a restaurant, a Brasserie, complete with a dreadful poodle sign outside. Unbelievable! Still, it has been a good afternoon.
Chelsea afternoon. We start at Sloan Square and pay a visit to the Saatchi Gallery. Interesting and often witty works, mostly by young artist from the Middle East. a fascinating display with several very convincing life sized men of various ethnic and cultural backgrounds all in motorized wheelchairs circulating in a room - their chairs changing direction as they encounter obstacles. There's a Greek Orthodox priest, a man in Arab headdress and a number of other characters. J tells a small child that only one is real and the boy is sure he's spotted which one.
Then to the Royal Chelsea Hospital grounds, home of the red-coated army pensiones. The grounds are lovely - a mini village with beautiful gardens, though not many pensioners in sight. After this we stop at the Army Museum next door. It's small and a bit randomly organised but there are some high points. There are a number of very good military paintings and a small display examining James Wolfe in images.
The walk down to the Thames is dotted with historic blue plaques - many notables have lived in the neighbourhood, including Oscar Wilde and George Eliot. We're supposed to finish at the King's Head and Eight Bells, drinking spot of Henry VIII, but, though we were once there before, no joy in finding it. Eventually the appalling reason emerges - it's been changed into a restaurant, a Brasserie, complete with a dreadful poodle sign outside. Unbelievable! Still, it has been a good afternoon.
Tuesday, April 7/2009
Over to Asda by tube and DLR. Then in the pm we go separate ways - J downtown to see the sights, the Tamil protest in Parliament Square and the character in Trafalgar Square who allows himself to b chained and locked up to demonstrate his escape artist flair. I go out to spend the afternoon with Jean, and as usual the talk flows. Back to J's homemade chicken soup.
Monday, April 6/2009
A lovely day and rain predicted for the rest of the week so we set off for outdoor explorations. First down to holborn Viaduct to look at the oldest publid drinking supply in London, in a wall by St. Sepulcher's. Tiny, and the hose doesn't work, but the original cups are still chained there.
We're near the Old Bailey and walk past but the pub we one ate at is gone - or at least upgraded into less interesting etablishments. North of St. Paul's we come to the tiny Postman's Park. It's by a Methodist Church with tributes to John and Charles Wesley. the sight we've come for is a wll with ceramic plaques commemorating the sacrifices of various people, some of them children, who gave their lives in attempts to save others from fates as diverse as drowning, death in housefires or runaway horses. It's simple and very moving. By now we're up against the original city wall and we resolve some day to follow its path - but not today.
In the afternoon it's still warm and sunny so we walk up to Hampstead Heath. Past the Magdala pub, where Ruth Ellis, the last woman to be hanged in Britain, shot her unfaithful lover. Bullet holes still visible. On Parliament Hill children are flying kites with considerable success - one boy barely remains on the ground as his kite catches the wind. We wander past the ponds where the coots are nesting and a duck demurely allows herself to be courted by to drakes and exit on the Highgate side. Bus back to Finchley Road.
We're near the Old Bailey and walk past but the pub we one ate at is gone - or at least upgraded into less interesting etablishments. North of St. Paul's we come to the tiny Postman's Park. It's by a Methodist Church with tributes to John and Charles Wesley. the sight we've come for is a wll with ceramic plaques commemorating the sacrifices of various people, some of them children, who gave their lives in attempts to save others from fates as diverse as drowning, death in housefires or runaway horses. It's simple and very moving. By now we're up against the original city wall and we resolve some day to follow its path - but not today.
In the afternoon it's still warm and sunny so we walk up to Hampstead Heath. Past the Magdala pub, where Ruth Ellis, the last woman to be hanged in Britain, shot her unfaithful lover. Bullet holes still visible. On Parliament Hill children are flying kites with considerable success - one boy barely remains on the ground as his kite catches the wind. We wander past the ponds where the coots are nesting and a duck demurely allows herself to be courted by to drakes and exit on the Highgate side. Bus back to Finchley Road.
Sunday, April 5/2009
We are marking the first anniversary of Siva's death and go, therefore, with Jean and Shanthi, to the Tamil temple in Ealing. Jean takes the traditional gifts of rice, lentils, fruit and milk, as well as a garment for the priest. The temple is in a former church, the outer room today garlanded in preparation for a wedding, the wedding, the wedding dais on a platform at one end of the hall. The main sanctuary area has a number of shrines, elaborate with brightly painted statues and flowers.
People come and go, including families with small children. we have all removed our shoes and left them outside. There is incense in the air and people praying at different shrines. shanthi explains things for us and when it's our turn the priest is very kind, shepherding us through the ritual in front of the shrine of Shiva, the giver and taker of life. We put ashes on our foreheads, much as on Ash Wednesday, and Jean presents the fruit. There are chanted prayers in Tamil and times for circling the shrine. The praers are for the wellbeing of Siva's soul. The gifts of rice are cooked for anyone who is at the temple to enjoy, and after the ceremony we go through to the hall and eat a lovely savoury lemon rice dish and a white rice that is both hot and sweet, as well as fruit and Indian sweets. Very nice end to am oving ceremony.
Shanthi invites us back for tea before her tutoring student arrives, and provides sausage rolls and little Singapore pineapple tarts as well. Priya is there, taking a short break from studying, light in her eyes when she talks about plans for graduating events. Back for a glass of wine with Jean and then home by tube.
People come and go, including families with small children. we have all removed our shoes and left them outside. There is incense in the air and people praying at different shrines. shanthi explains things for us and when it's our turn the priest is very kind, shepherding us through the ritual in front of the shrine of Shiva, the giver and taker of life. We put ashes on our foreheads, much as on Ash Wednesday, and Jean presents the fruit. There are chanted prayers in Tamil and times for circling the shrine. The praers are for the wellbeing of Siva's soul. The gifts of rice are cooked for anyone who is at the temple to enjoy, and after the ceremony we go through to the hall and eat a lovely savoury lemon rice dish and a white rice that is both hot and sweet, as well as fruit and Indian sweets. Very nice end to am oving ceremony.
Shanthi invites us back for tea before her tutoring student arrives, and provides sausage rolls and little Singapore pineapple tarts as well. Priya is there, taking a short break from studying, light in her eyes when she talks about plans for graduating events. Back for a glass of wine with Jean and then home by tube.
Saturday, April 4/2009
Basic grocery shop in the morning - everything looks cheap after Dublin. then in the afternoon out to Jean's in West Harrow. Chat time and a curry supper. Then Jean to a choral concert previously booked while we make ourselves at home with tea and telly.
Friday, april 3/2009
Suddenly realise we have to leave for the airport and there isn't even time for postcards. Forty euro more to ryanair for not having checked in online - well last time with them. The flight numbers for Ryanair all begin with FR - f...Ryanair. Back at Gatwick half an hour late we still catch a train that gets us in in time to pick up the keys for the bedsit before 6. The flat is at 57 Belsize Park. It needs a frying pan, kettle and corkscrew, but that can come later. We're home.
Thursday, April 2/2009
Attempt to get boarding pass online at internet cafe to avoid repeat penalty tomorrow. Repeated inapplicable explanations of why we are being refused. The nice young man running the cafe is so indignant on our behalf that he insists on phoning ryanair. No joy and no contact.
So cut our losses and take an order of chips from the fish and chip shop down to the benches on Bachelor's Walk on the north side of the Liffe to enjoy. Good thing we split an order as it's huge.
Crossing streets is unnerving in Dublin. There are walk lights but with sound effects. Various Morse code beeps which may help the blind but disorient us foreigners. Then the brief walk light - run would be more appropriate - announced by a shriek like a canary being swallowed followed by a tatoo like a heart attack. And we run for the other side.
A visit to the museum at the old army barracks. A very interesting exhibit on the Easter 1916 uprising and Irish independence. Then back across the river via the James Joyce Bridge and through the oldest section of the city, past christ Church Cathedral and Dublin Castle. Stop for a Guinness at the Bleeding Horse, now on the southern end of our city centre map but probably at its genesis in 1649 in country fields. It's quiet and a pleasant Romanian girl serves us. Only a few customers, several of whom appear to be Romanian as well. By the time we finish we decide against evensong at christ church and go back to Trinity for dinner.
So cut our losses and take an order of chips from the fish and chip shop down to the benches on Bachelor's Walk on the north side of the Liffe to enjoy. Good thing we split an order as it's huge.
Crossing streets is unnerving in Dublin. There are walk lights but with sound effects. Various Morse code beeps which may help the blind but disorient us foreigners. Then the brief walk light - run would be more appropriate - announced by a shriek like a canary being swallowed followed by a tatoo like a heart attack. And we run for the other side.
A visit to the museum at the old army barracks. A very interesting exhibit on the Easter 1916 uprising and Irish independence. Then back across the river via the James Joyce Bridge and through the oldest section of the city, past christ Church Cathedral and Dublin Castle. Stop for a Guinness at the Bleeding Horse, now on the southern end of our city centre map but probably at its genesis in 1649 in country fields. It's quiet and a pleasant Romanian girl serves us. Only a few customers, several of whom appear to be Romanian as well. By the time we finish we decide against evensong at christ church and go back to Trinity for dinner.
Saturday, 4 April 2009
Wednesday, April 1/2009
Look round the lovely inner courtyard of Trinity College - all old grey stone and green lawns. More exploring. Check out Merrion Square, former home to Yeats, Oscar Wilde and others, and a charming park in its own right. Nearby is the National Gallery and we spend longer than we expect there, especially in the Portrait Gallery. It's a mini Irish history course with full sized illustrations. We also have the advantage of a longish chat with Antony, a cheerful docent who is full of information and anecdote. For example, George Bernard Shaw, a thin vegetarian, once met Lord Beaverbrook Beaverbrook looked at Shaw and said that when he saw Shaw he could believe the stories of the starving masses, to which Shaw replied that when he looked at the portly Beaverbrook he could belioeve the Beaver was responsible for them starving. And Shaw is responsible for the free admission to the National Gallery. He willed it a third of his estate, including continuing royalties from Pygmalion and My Fair Lady.
Through Temple Bar - pretty touristy. Back to Trinity College for an excellent stirfry at the Buttery. Youu choose your vegetables and the cook adds chicken or tofu and a sauce and stir fries as you watch. A big plateful with rice, and very good. Over O'Connell Bridge and a walk along the north side of the Liffey and back to Lynam's.
Through Temple Bar - pretty touristy. Back to Trinity College for an excellent stirfry at the Buttery. Youu choose your vegetables and the cook adds chicken or tofu and a sauce and stir fries as you watch. A big plateful with rice, and very good. Over O'Connell Bridge and a walk along the north side of the Liffey and back to Lynam's.
Tuesday, March 31/2009
Leave at 6 a.m. and take the train from London Bridge to Gatwick, so we're early enough - but then the shock effect. The penalty for not having checked in online - which I've somehow missed - is twenty quid each. And the same coming back? Yes, if you don't find a computer to check in on. Actually it's not quite as bad - or even worse - than that sounds. The cost of checking in is either £10 each online or £20 each at the airport. The cheap fare is getting less so. Especially as there was already a "handling fee" of £10 each, plus taxes, plus fees.
Pleasant enough flight - absolutely no frills, and relatively inoffensive speaker-announced advertisements - and we arrive early. Ryanair is proud to announce that they're #1 for no lost luggage. Quite probably - they sharply discourage anyone from checking in anything with extra fees. Rumours re charging for loo on board as yet unfounded. They have more effective mans than that of squeezing cash out of you.
The bus in stops at the O'Connell St. bus station - two doors from our hotel, Lynam's, a Georgian buildikng with small rooms but with a kettle, tea and coffee and a hairdryer, as well as a very clean loo. The area is historic as well as central. We're a block north of the post office building, seized and defended by the rebels in the Easter 1916 uprising. There are still bullet marks on the building.
A happy day wandering the streets. Central Dublin is really quite small. We sit in St. Stephen's Green watching the ducks, and chat with a man who shows us his Sony electronic bookreader. It's really quite impressive, both in terms of the numberf of books it holds and for its anti-glare screen and compact size.
Finish at St. Patrick's Cathedral, where Jonathan Swift was dean, for evensong - a lovely combination of vespers and compline in the ancient cathedral.
Dublin is showing signs of the recession - quite a lot of office space vacant and a surprpising number of people begging. It's a very expensive city as well, especially food prpices and the cost of newspapers, both noticeably higher than in London. We've done well enough on weekday accommodation though.
Pleasant enough flight - absolutely no frills, and relatively inoffensive speaker-announced advertisements - and we arrive early. Ryanair is proud to announce that they're #1 for no lost luggage. Quite probably - they sharply discourage anyone from checking in anything with extra fees. Rumours re charging for loo on board as yet unfounded. They have more effective mans than that of squeezing cash out of you.
The bus in stops at the O'Connell St. bus station - two doors from our hotel, Lynam's, a Georgian buildikng with small rooms but with a kettle, tea and coffee and a hairdryer, as well as a very clean loo. The area is historic as well as central. We're a block north of the post office building, seized and defended by the rebels in the Easter 1916 uprising. There are still bullet marks on the building.
A happy day wandering the streets. Central Dublin is really quite small. We sit in St. Stephen's Green watching the ducks, and chat with a man who shows us his Sony electronic bookreader. It's really quite impressive, both in terms of the numberf of books it holds and for its anti-glare screen and compact size.
Finish at St. Patrick's Cathedral, where Jonathan Swift was dean, for evensong - a lovely combination of vespers and compline in the ancient cathedral.
Dublin is showing signs of the recession - quite a lot of office space vacant and a surprpising number of people begging. It's a very expensive city as well, especially food prpices and the cost of newspapers, both noticeably higher than in London. We've done well enough on weekday accommodation though.
Sunday, March 29/2009
Wake for the Australian Grand Prix, though not early enough. By the time my watch says 6:15 it's actually 7:15 as the time change occured in the night. Get to see most of the race though.
Go to the sung Latin Mass at the Jesuit church on Farm Street - of various literary references. A lovely church. The choice of music - Hassler, Purcell - is as good as Westminster Cathedral's, and the choir is quite good, though small and without the boy sopranos.
After brunch we abandon the Sunday Times and head off to a meeting of the Socialist Party, having been given a paper yesterday at Hyde Park advertising a talk today on Global Capitalism. It's at an address on Red ion Square which proves to be a little north of Bond St. tube station. One side of the square boasts a house where Dante Gabriel Rossetti once lived.
We're on the other side, across a tiny park, at Conway Hall - the Bertrand kRussell Room. It's a curious gathering. Thirteen of us in all, nine men and four women, including a male chairman and a female speaker. We're about the average age but most of the others seem to know each other, sometimes prefacing a first name with "Comrade." They are an uncompromisingly Marxist lot and seem to feel that other organisations rejoicing in the name of socialist have made unforgiveable compromises. Hence Tony Benn, for example, is dismissed as a Labour Party member when the Labour Party has sanctioned war - not only in Afghanistan, but also World War II.
In some ways they are a curiously innocent group. Hence the high level of idealism that sees capitalists as the evil and workers as the should-be inheritors of the earth, despite a sad recognition that neither war nor plague nor environmental disaster seems likely to cause any withering away of the state.
Actually, they resemble nothing so much as a religious gathering of courteous and decent folk, from polite welcome to a collection toward the end to cover expenses as they have had to pay for the hall. The £84.80 is reasonably impressive, as ity means the other 11 people present contributed £83.80. After the presentation there are questions and then "discussion." Harry, who handed us the original invitation yesterday, is particularly eager to move to the discussion, everyone having their say. He's been making notes during the speech and has a number of things to say, mostly not directly related to the presentation. For example, he doesn't believe in global warming and insists that capitalist countries with arctic coasts are deliberately melting ice to aid in the search for oil. Interestingly, though, these contributions do not, in fact, lead to discussion at all. Rather, somewhat like religious testimonials, they are accepted politely at fact value rather than as spurs to debate, and there is some feeling that points of disagreement should be ignored as distractions from shared ideology. It is as if at a Church meeting someone were to say that beautiful sunsets proved the existence of God and the others were too polite or too aware of the damage attendant on dissent to debate the quality of the suggested proof. There is a deliberate avoidance of how a world would actually function after the workers had acquired the mans of production. It would work somehow and the workers would be the ones to decide. It seems God is not the only one to work in mysterious ways beyond our undersetanding.
It's been interesting and a little sad. As the only true, uncompromised socialists they seem a little like the Christians willing to die over the issue of using three rather than two fingers to cross themselves - and their cause quite hopeless. Communism, they say has not failed; it has never been tried. The same point has been made about Christianity.
Go to the sung Latin Mass at the Jesuit church on Farm Street - of various literary references. A lovely church. The choice of music - Hassler, Purcell - is as good as Westminster Cathedral's, and the choir is quite good, though small and without the boy sopranos.
After brunch we abandon the Sunday Times and head off to a meeting of the Socialist Party, having been given a paper yesterday at Hyde Park advertising a talk today on Global Capitalism. It's at an address on Red ion Square which proves to be a little north of Bond St. tube station. One side of the square boasts a house where Dante Gabriel Rossetti once lived.
We're on the other side, across a tiny park, at Conway Hall - the Bertrand kRussell Room. It's a curious gathering. Thirteen of us in all, nine men and four women, including a male chairman and a female speaker. We're about the average age but most of the others seem to know each other, sometimes prefacing a first name with "Comrade." They are an uncompromisingly Marxist lot and seem to feel that other organisations rejoicing in the name of socialist have made unforgiveable compromises. Hence Tony Benn, for example, is dismissed as a Labour Party member when the Labour Party has sanctioned war - not only in Afghanistan, but also World War II.
In some ways they are a curiously innocent group. Hence the high level of idealism that sees capitalists as the evil and workers as the should-be inheritors of the earth, despite a sad recognition that neither war nor plague nor environmental disaster seems likely to cause any withering away of the state.
Actually, they resemble nothing so much as a religious gathering of courteous and decent folk, from polite welcome to a collection toward the end to cover expenses as they have had to pay for the hall. The £84.80 is reasonably impressive, as ity means the other 11 people present contributed £83.80. After the presentation there are questions and then "discussion." Harry, who handed us the original invitation yesterday, is particularly eager to move to the discussion, everyone having their say. He's been making notes during the speech and has a number of things to say, mostly not directly related to the presentation. For example, he doesn't believe in global warming and insists that capitalist countries with arctic coasts are deliberately melting ice to aid in the search for oil. Interestingly, though, these contributions do not, in fact, lead to discussion at all. Rather, somewhat like religious testimonials, they are accepted politely at fact value rather than as spurs to debate, and there is some feeling that points of disagreement should be ignored as distractions from shared ideology. It is as if at a Church meeting someone were to say that beautiful sunsets proved the existence of God and the others were too polite or too aware of the damage attendant on dissent to debate the quality of the suggested proof. There is a deliberate avoidance of how a world would actually function after the workers had acquired the mans of production. It would work somehow and the workers would be the ones to decide. It seems God is not the only one to work in mysterious ways beyond our undersetanding.
It's been interesting and a little sad. As the only true, uncompromised socialists they seem a little like the Christians willing to die over the issue of using three rather than two fingers to cross themselves - and their cause quite hopeless. Communism, they say has not failed; it has never been tried. The same point has been made about Christianity.
Saturday, March 25/2009
Wake at 5 to watch qualifying for the Australian Grand Prix, F1 season opener. Well, semi wake, anyway, but enough to enjoy seeing the formula 1 world turned on its head as the season shapes up with no certainties at all.
Join the Put People First demo in central London, a broad and loose coalition of Churches, trades unions, Greens, anti-war movements and, more darkly, anarchists, all of whom want G20 leaders to focus less on business and banks and more on common people and underdeveloped countries. There's an amazingly broad range of sponsors, from Quakers to journalists, and an equally eclectic looking group of marchers of all ages, long white beards to babies in pushchairs. Even a few dogs along. We walk from Parliament Square to Hyde Park, led by a small band. Quite a lot of police at the beginning but we're a pretty tame lot. As we leave Hyde Park we see them paying closer attention to some anarchists gathering with red and black flags by the Marble Arch end. A construction area with bits of rubble suitable for projectiles has been prudently fenced off.
Join the Put People First demo in central London, a broad and loose coalition of Churches, trades unions, Greens, anti-war movements and, more darkly, anarchists, all of whom want G20 leaders to focus less on business and banks and more on common people and underdeveloped countries. There's an amazingly broad range of sponsors, from Quakers to journalists, and an equally eclectic looking group of marchers of all ages, long white beards to babies in pushchairs. Even a few dogs along. We walk from Parliament Square to Hyde Park, led by a small band. Quite a lot of police at the beginning but we're a pretty tame lot. As we leave Hyde Park we see them paying closer attention to some anarchists gathering with red and black flags by the Marble Arch end. A construction area with bits of rubble suitable for projectiles has been prudently fenced off.
Fridach 27/2009
Threats of rain so we take umbrellas and head for a museum day. Start at the Science Museum, which is alive with small children. A disproportionate number of the exhibits are child-oriented as well, some of them with unnecessarily low lighting and explanatory material posted about knee level. Interesting early steam engine that beat out its early 19th century competitors to set a record of 29 mph, reminding us of James saying that the steam engine was the first thing to go faster than a Roman chariot.
Happy time at the Victoria and Albert across the road, poking about the gallery covering Britain from 1500 to the mid 18th century. Interesting fact: marriages did not require either Church or witnesses to be valid until well into the 18th century, which must make life more difficult for genealogists.
Then by tube to Bethnal Green where we check out pie shop #2 in our search for a replacement for Goddard's. Kelly's is a small and local shop. We don't actually try its wares because it looks depressingly inadequate compared to Goddard's but mark it for later. Home for spinach salad and pasta with shrimp sauce.
Happy time at the Victoria and Albert across the road, poking about the gallery covering Britain from 1500 to the mid 18th century. Interesting fact: marriages did not require either Church or witnesses to be valid until well into the 18th century, which must make life more difficult for genealogists.
Then by tube to Bethnal Green where we check out pie shop #2 in our search for a replacement for Goddard's. Kelly's is a small and local shop. We don't actually try its wares because it looks depressingly inadequate compared to Goddard's but mark it for later. Home for spinach salad and pasta with shrimp sauce.
Thursday, March 26/2009
Graffiti on HSBC advertisement on the tube: "banker - rhymes with...."
Research for day trips. On average coach is cheaper but train is quicker. Surprisingly prices to Bedford much higher than those to Stratford or Bath, though it's only an hour by train.
Find a shop in Kentish Town opposite the tube station which sells embroidery needs and will order what they don't have in stock - a shop kindly recommended by a woman working at Liberty's, where stock and even floor space seem greatly reduced.
Check out Castle's Eel and Pie Shop on Royal College in Camden Town. We're looking for a successor to Goddard's in Greenwich. It's friendly and the tiny space is serving locals from workmen to old ladies, but the pies look small and pancake flat, so we only sample the puddings - plenty of custard from a large pail of same but the puddings are not homemade and not a meal in themselves. It's not Goddard's.
Research for day trips. On average coach is cheaper but train is quicker. Surprisingly prices to Bedford much higher than those to Stratford or Bath, though it's only an hour by train.
Find a shop in Kentish Town opposite the tube station which sells embroidery needs and will order what they don't have in stock - a shop kindly recommended by a woman working at Liberty's, where stock and even floor space seem greatly reduced.
Check out Castle's Eel and Pie Shop on Royal College in Camden Town. We're looking for a successor to Goddard's in Greenwich. It's friendly and the tiny space is serving locals from workmen to old ladies, but the pies look small and pancake flat, so we only sample the puddings - plenty of custard from a large pail of same but the puddings are not homemade and not a meal in themselves. It's not Goddard's.
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