Writing and Blog #1 of 2025

Ok, here we go. It’s 2025 and it’s time to kick off with my first proper blog post of the New Year: I settle down in front of the fire, crank up my trusty old laptop. The blank page glares at me as usual; what to write about today?

I first started posting in 2014 and that year I managed to get 2341 views which I was pretty pleased about. If I had also managed to sell 2341 copies of any of my books, I would have been even more pleased but hey, that’s another story.

Last year in 2024 I managed to accumulate a total of 14,182 visits which is pretty fantastic although I’m sure there are plenty of blogs out there that have an even larger readership. My most read post has been Manipulating the Image, a look at various aspects of photo manipulation. I’ve tried a couple of follow up posts on the same subject but that post, actually from 2022, continues to boost my readership. Why is it so popular? I really don’t know despite looking at things like subject matter, keywords, search engine optimisation and so on, I still don’t understand its popularity.

A lot of blogs on the internet seem to focus on a particular subject. Things like cycling, classic films or canal boating for instance. Those blogs always know where the next post is coming from; another cycling trip, another classic film review or canal journey. As there is no actual focus on this blog it’s sometimes hard to hone in on a new subject although generally, I stick to books, films and my little old life. Plus the occasional plug for my three books.

I have tried to occasionally write one of those ‘how to’ blog posts and impart some of my blogging knowledge to my readers and fellow bloggers but I reckon those sort of posts might be of interest only to my fellow writers. One of my previous posts was about three ways to write a poem (click here for the video version) and when it comes down to it, I think those three ways could also be used to write a blog post.

The first way was the easy way, a flash of inspiration; a great idea comes to you out of the blue and hits you square in the face and you are off and running. That is probably the best way to write a post or a poem. The second way is when something happens to inspire you. In my poetry example I wrote about a time when I returned home and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. While I was waiting for the kettle to boil I looked out of the window and watched the cat that belonged to the house opposite make its way across their lawn, take a good look around and then settle down under a small young tree and go to sleep in the afternoon sun.

Later subdued screams and cries were heard over the way and it turned out that the lady of the house had returned home to find her cat was sadly dead and it seemed to me that I had seen the cat resign itself to its fate, even taking a last look around before slipping away to start the next of its nine lives. Inspired by these events, shocked even, I went away and began a poem.

The third and final way of writing a poem or indeed any kind of creative work is an obvious way known to all professional writers everywhere and that is simply hard work. Unlike mere amateurs like me, the professional has no choice but to sit down and get on with things, firm in the knowledge that at a certain time their editor or publisher or Hollywood producer will be asking for that article, blog, book or screenplay.

I too have my deadline, that of 10:00am on a Saturday morning and sometimes even that is hard to work to. Sometimes I have finished a post on Friday afternoon and have passed it over to my proofreader for a quick final check, confident that all will be well for Saturday and then later find that I have forgotten to hit the schedule button or even worse, scheduled the post for the wrong day.

Coming up with a new blog post week after week just seems to get even harder and here I am on my 649th post. Six hundred and forty-nine posts! I suppose to those of you who have been writing for years, 649 may not be such a big milestone but for an amateur writer like me, it’s pretty special. The crazy thing is this, looking through my diary from a few years ago I see I was commenting on one of those online forums, praising WordPress and blogging and someone commented that if I hadn’t been blogging I might have finished my second book!

Looking back I now wonder whether that guy was actually right. 649 blog posts, times my average word count per post: That comes to over 700,000 words. I could have written another book and to be fair, that was part of the idea behind Timeline, to utilise all those old forgotten posts in a new collection of stories and blog posts. Perhaps I could have written another novel. But then again, it’s not just the words, it’s the idea behind the words, the creative thrust of a book that’s important. Get that and the book should just follow. Still, that fellow had a point. Should I give up my blog posts in favour of my book? Well, if that would guarantee me producing a book then yes, great! The thing is, it’s not a lack of words that have kept my sequel to Floating in Space in a constant state of abandonment. It’s really my own laziness.

Laziness, fear of the blank page, procrastination, they are all enemies of the writer. The only way to overcome them is just to keep on writing. If you are writing a blog post and it won’t come, switch to something else; that other post you had on the back burner or that script you had started a few years back. A great deal of my work is done like that, in small bursts of activity. A while back I had an idea for a film screenplay and worked away creating the first quarter of the work. Later I decided to turn it into a book and as I worked with the text, adding in all sorts of detail that wasn’t in the original script, the story came alive to me in a different way and I started to bring something new to the book version. Don’t hold your breath though, it’s still far from completion.

Oh well. Here’s another script story. Ages ago when I first met Liz and we began socialising in St Annes, we started frequenting Wetherspoons there. It’s a pretty friendly pub and we made friends with quite a few people. There was Big Steve who I wrote about in another post but we also met two guys, Craig and Danny (as usual, names have been changed to protect the innocent!) They were brothers in law who were married to twin sisters and they both owned and ran small hotels in St Annes. The hotels were on the same street opposite each other and the sisters were identical twins so their whole scenario seemed to scream ‘sitcom’ to me.

I used to ask them what funny things had happened to them in their work as hoteliers and being married to identical women. ‘Loads of things’ they would always say but I could never get any details. Anyway, when I had a quiet moment, I started off a pilot sitcom script using their situation, rival hoteliers married to identical sisters. It’s nothing brilliant but mildly amusing and it sat in my documents folder for a long time. Every now and again when I slipped into that blank page syndrome, I’d pull out the script and add a few more pages.

One day I noticed on one of my occasional visits to the BBC Writersroom page that a window of opportunity was coming up for a sitcom script. The BBC, rather than accepting ‘spec’ scripts all year round open a small ‘window’ of a few weeks where you can submit your work in certain areas, sometimes a film script or a play, sometimes drama, other times situation comedy. I went back to my sitcom script, pulled it quickly into some sort of shape, added an ending and bunged it off to the BBC. Then I sat down and waited, glued to my inbox, awaiting the BBC email that may or may not even arrive.

Of course, I do wonder what might happen if the BBC actually decided that my sitcom script is worth making into a pilot? Imagine if the BBC said “we’re going to make a twelve episode series!” Imagine me trying to write twelve episodes when it took me months to write one 25 minute episode! Even the great Spike Milligan had a nervous breakdown writing the numerous scripts of the radio show ‘The Goon Show’. Of course, someone at the BBC could be reading this very post. Did I say something about 12 episodes? Would I be able to write 12 episodes?

Of course! What’s 12 episodes to a top writer like me? I might even start episode 2 straight away. Well, straight away after a cup of tea. And maybe a sandwich. Better make it first thing tomorrow. Well, tomorrow afternoon might be better . .


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Transformations (3)

This the third instalment of a post on the theme of transformations. The very first one (which you can read by clicking here) started off with the transformation of the common market flower seller Eliza Doolittle into a refined lady.  I hope that explains the basic idea so let’s get cracking with a few more interesting transformations.

One that came to me while lying in bed one morning was a story told to me by my mother. Walking down our old street many years ago she pointed out a tall, thin man who we used to let on to whenever we passed. He was, I assumed, very old as he had a great mop of white hair. Mum had lived on that street most of her life. She had come to Nuffield Road with her mother and father as a child and when mum grew up and married they gifted the house to her. She told me that the tall lanky man wasn’t old at all. He had gone away to war in the 1940’s and had been captured by the Japanese. He had endured a terrible time as a prisoner of war and when he returned he was a shattered man and his hair had turned snow white.

Shirley Valentine

Shirley Valentine started life as a play by Liverpool writer Willy Russell. Later the story was turned into a film with Pauline Collins starring as the eponymous heroine. Shirley Valentine was a lonely Liverpool housewife who spent a lot of her time talking to her kitchen wall. Her children had left home, she had lost touch with many of her friends and she felt alone, sitting at home all by herself when her husband was out at work.

Her husband Joe, played by Bernard Hill, demands a steak dinner every Thursday. He sets so much by this that Shirley calls it the 11th commandment; thou shalt have steak on a Thursday. The thing is, Shirley gives the steak to the neighbour’s dog and makes chips and egg for tea. I personally rather like chips and egg. If I am ever on my own on a Saturday, the first thing I think about making is chips and egg. I always think of it as the perfect Saturday evening meal. Shirley’s husband however does not like chips and egg on a Thursday; he likes steak and this is the catalyst for a big row and for Shirley going on holiday with her friend Jane and leaving Joe to fend for himself.

While on holiday Jane deserts Shirley for an affair with a man she meets on the flight over. Shirley however, begins to gain confidence in herself and far from being lonely, she begins to come out of her shell. She meets Costas, a Greek bar owner with whom she has a brief dalliance.

Shirley is at the airport ready to leave when she decides not to go. Returning to the bar she asks Costas for a job. Meanwhile Jane tells Joe that Shirley has been having an affair but she denies this saying the only affair she is having is one with herself.

The film finishes as Joe arrives in Greece to speak with her but she has changed so much he fails to recognise her at first. Shirley has finally found herself.

Educating Rita

This was a breakthrough film for Julie Walters and I remember Michael Caine who also stars in the film saying that this film would do for Julie what Alfie did for him. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. The film is about a Liverpool hairdresser played by Julie who wants to better herself. She decides to take an Open University course in English Literature. Her tutor played by Caine is initially confused as he has the name of Susan White on his documents and Susan explains that she has now changed her name to Rita after reading Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown. Frank Bryant (Caine) is not keen on taking Rita on as a student but she convinces him otherwise. Rita finds Frank has ignited her passion for literature but has to contend with her husband who wants her to be a traditional wife and produce babies. Husband and wife finally split leaving Rita to pursue her studies. She moves in with a fellow student and gradually, as she mixes with more students and studies more, she becomes less and less like her former self. Frank becomes more and more fond of her, possibly even in love with her but his position as a university lecturer is compromised by his heavy drinking.

Just like Shirley Valentine, this story began life as a play by Willy Russell and the film shared the same director, Lewis Gilbert, who also directed Alfie, mentioned above. In a lot of ways this is such a good film. Julie Walters is outstanding as Rita and Michael Caine is excellent too. The big problem for me is that while Julie plays Rita as a typical scouser with a superb Liverpool accent, the setting clearly isn’t Liverpool. Not only that but the other accents in the film all grate with Julie’s as they are a mix of various northern accents. Caine of course as the lecturer, doesn’t have to have to be a Liverpudlian but the hotchpotch of brogues, some from Manchester, some from Liverpool just seemed to jar to my ear. The film was apparently filmed in Ireland so why not make Rita and her family Irish? That would have made more sense although filming in Liverpool with a local cast would have been the better option. Perhaps production finances made that impossible.

The Incredible Hulk

Back in the days when I used to read comic books, I used to read plenty of Marvel comic strips and one was the Incredible Hulk. The origin of the Hulk (every superhero has an origin story!) is a story about a scientist called Bruce Banner who is exposed to gamma radiation during an experiment. Gamma radiation featured in quite a lot of the Marvel comics as I remember but, on this occasion, the result of exposure to gamma rays means that when Bruce gets angry, he mutates into a green skinned, muscular giant with incredible strength and while he cannot fly like other super heroes he manages to get about in some incredible jumps or leaps.

Back in the 1970’s there was a TV version starring Bill Bixby as Bruce Banner although for some reason, perhaps because he was travelling incognito, he used the name David. I can’t remember the opening episode but Bruce travels about the USA and gets involved in various incidents. He tells a lot of people to not make him angry as they won’t like him when he is angry but as you can imagine, various people just go ahead and make him angry anyway which turns him into the green skinned monster. Rather than beef Bill Bixby up with green makeup and fake muscles, the production team brought in the already muscular Lou Ferrigno. He appeared as the Hulk and when he calmed down after a good bout of rampaging and smashing stuff up, he morphed back into Bill Bixby again.

The first film version starred Eric Bana as Bruce Banner and was released in 2003. The Hulk himself was a creation of CGI, computer generated images, although director Ang Lee provided the motion capture movements and the voice of the Hulk. This being the early days of CGI the result appeared to be rather cartoon like, at least to me.

The follow up film was The Incredible Hulk starring Edward Norton as Bruce Banner who is on the run from the military and living in Brazil but still trying to continue his experiments. He does so partly by collaborating with an anonymous individual online known only as ‘Mr Blue’.

The military trace Banner to Brazil and try to capture him but fail. It’s a pretty thoughtful and interesting film until the CGI takes over and a character called Emil Blonsky is injected with a substance aimed to produce a ‘super-soldier’ causing him to become a similar mutant like the Hulk. The two engage in a CGI battle which the Hulk wins.

Later Bruce Banner begins to be able to control his mutations into the Hulk and meets with Tony Stark, alias another Marvel super-hero, Iron Man, which preps the viewer for the next super hero film.

All in all it’s not a bad film and much superior to the first one but please, less CGI in future please.

The History of Mr Polly

This is not a science fiction story despite being penned by H G Wells. Our hero, Mr Polly, finds himself in a very dull job with a very dull wife and resolves to commit suicide. Anyway, events unfold and instead of committing suicide, Polly accidentally starts a fire which threatens the whole street and he then mounts a brave rescue of an old lady. Instead of dying, Mr Polly becomes a hero and when the insurance money comes in, he leaves his wife nicely settled with the insurance money, takes a little for himself and departs for pastures new. He sends some money to a post office in another village and gradually meanders in that direction, sleeping in fields and hedges, getting himself a tan. He works occasionally when he wants and sleeps when the mood takes him at other times.

He comes across the Potwell Inn and asks for work and right away finds himself at home. He potters about happily at the Inn, cleaning, serving and doing various odd jobs. One day the landlady’s nephew, ‘Uncle Jim’ appears. He is a violent bully having been in and out of prison for years. He doesn’t like Mr Polly getting in the way so he decides to scare him off. What should Polly do, stay and help or just leave? He decides to stay and after various battles scares off Jim.

Some time later he returns to see if Miriam, his former wife is alright. He finds that Jim has drowned wearing clothes stolen from Polly so now Mr Polly is presumed to be dead. Polly leaves, content with the transformation of his life.

I first read this book many years ago and I’ve always liked its simple philosophy. If you don’t like your situation, change it.

A film version was made in 1949 starring John Mills as Mr Polly and Megs Jenkins as the landlady of the Inn where Polly finds happiness.

I might as well finish with a transformation close to home. Yes, I’m talking about me. Once I was a ‘six shifts on, three shifts off’ motorway Traffic Officer, setting signals in our control room for the travelling public and now I’m retired, a man of leisure whose only worry is ‘what can I write about next week’.

I’ve also used artificial intelligence to transform me further, well, my digital image anyway. That’s me just above, or at least a version of me that’s similar to the original.

What transformations have you experienced?


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Holiday Book Bag 2024 Part 4

As usual I always take a number of books with me to read when I’m on holiday. There is nothing better than having a long pleasant read in the sun interrupted only by visits to the pool. This year we only had a swimming pool for just over a week and even then there wasn’t much sun but I still managed to get in some reading. Anyway, time to open up my book bag and see what’s in there.

The Dark Side of Camelot by Seymour Hersh

This was a book which I read a long time ago and thought it was ready for a re-read. It is essentially a book which tries to shatter the image of the long dead President Kennedy. It’s an exercise in character assassination and talks exclusively about JFK’s numerous faults without any balancing stories about what he actually did well.

The Bay of Pigs was a great disaster for Kennedy. He inherited the invasion plans from the Eisenhower administration in which Vice President Nixon was a prime mover. Nixon felt that an invasion would boost his chances in the election contest against Kennedy but the CIA seemed to be relying on the assassination of Castro to kick off the invasion but that planned murder, for whatever reason, never happened.

JFK told the CIA that US forces would not be assisting in the operation but it turned out that the CIA was relying on exactly that, intervention by US forces. The invasion was a disaster and Kennedy privately blamed the CIA who he felt were trying to force his hand in committing American forces. Hersh of course, blames Kennedy.

The most shocking element of the book probably comes from interviews with four former secret servicemen who tell numerous stories of JFK’s aides, Dave Powers and Kenny O’Donnell, bringing in call girls and prostitutes to service the President whenever his wife Jackie wasn’t around. The White House pool seems to have been a particular favourite of Kennedy’s, not for a relaxing swim but for naked skinny dipping and sex with various women, some of whom were White House secretaries.

Throw into the mix father Joe Kennedy’s booze smuggling activities and relentless spending to get his son elected and the author paints a pretty dark picture of the Kennedy White House. Still, as I said earlier, this book is a one sided view. It’s worth reading more about JFK before you make your mind up.

Ten Days to Destiny by John Costello

I’ve always been interested in the Rudolf Hess mystery. Why did Hess fly to England? Why are the Hess files sealed for so long? What was the real story? This was a book about the mystery or so I thought. Actually it’s about the various peace initiatives that were made even while Churchill, the new prime minister, had vowed to fight on and which eventually culminate in Hess arriving in the UK in the latter part of the book.

After the declaration of war in 1939 the government had to bring in Churchill who had long warned about the Nazi menace. Later, when the government realised that a national government was needed, comprising all the main parties, the opposition, the labour party led by Clement Attlee, refused to serve under Neville Chamberlain who they believed had actually caused the crisis by his policy of appeasement. Chamberlain wanted Lord Halifax to take over as prime minister and even put the question to Churchill, asking him would the country be willing to accept a leader in the Lords rather than the Commons. Churchill declined to answer and of course it was later that Chamberlain recommended Churchill to the King.

The author seems to think that part of the deal with Churchill was that Chamberlain should stay in the government and also still retain the leadership of the Conservative party. He even seems to think that Chamberlain had plans to return to number 10 Downing street at a later date. However, Chamberlain died of cancer not long afterwards.

Various others though, in particular Lord Halifax, seemed to be putting out peace feelers to representatives of Hitler who wanted to turn his attention to the Soviet Union rather than fight with the UK. Various people seemed to be trying to negotiate including Mussolini and the Pope. The flight of Hess seems to have come about because of letters intercepted by MI5 from Hess to the Duke of Devonshire. MI5 sent fake replies to Hess which encouraged him to come to the UK for unofficial talks.

Overall this was an interesting book but not not an easy one to read.

Bill Clinton: Mastering the Presidency by Nigel Hamilton

This book was the sequel to another book about Bill Clinton. The first one dealt with Clinton’s early life and his election to the presidency; this one takes us through his first four years as president. The author takes us through the years of the Clinton White House and documents the issues like Troopergate; when the former Governor Clinton’s State Troopers revealed the comings and goings of Bill’s various mistresses, as well as the disaster of his healthcare reform work which he entrusted to his wife Hillary. The public clearly weren’t keen on Clinton’s ‘co-president’ – his wife, and their healthcare proposals were rejected by Congress. The mid term elections were another disaster for Clinton and the Democrats and the book goes on to show how Clinton turned the final two years of his first term presidency around and was able to win a second term.

Unlike the book above, this one was a very easy read and each chapter comes in easily digestible bite size sections.

Encore Provence by Peter Mayle

This is the second follow up to the wonderful A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle. The first follow up was Toujours Provence and neither seem to me to have captured the essential warmth of the first book. This one, just like Toujours is a series of unconnected essays about life in France. It’s a pleasant enough read but not a patch on the original.

Seems Like a Nice Boy by Mike Maylon.

This is a short biography of Larry Grayson the comedian and one time host of the BBCs Generation Game. I’ve always kind of liked Larry and his camp performances. He was an old style entertainer who found fame in later life after years of summer seasons and working men’s clubs. In a lot of ways his act was similar to the stand up comedy of today; it was a chatty, observational style of comedy that concerned his many creations such as Everard and Slack Alice.

Many have speculated about his true sexuality but it’s clear that Larry enjoyed being labelled as camp rather than gay. The main relationship in his life was with his sister who became a mother figure to him when his adoptive mother died. The two lived next door to each other for many years in later life.

Larry’s career seemed to end when he stepped down from The Generation Game, assuming the BBC would find him some other TV vehicle. They never did. Larry died in 1994.

All in all, an enjoyable read with some interesting insights into the world of entertainment.


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More Sun Lounger Thoughts (Part 11)

Once again, Liz and I are travelling across France in our little motorhome, looking for restaurants to eat at and lakes to swim in. The weather hasn’t been great but at least it hasn’t been cold, although a little less cloud and a little more sun would have been nice.

We don’t tend to do a great deal on holiday apart from swimming, eating and reading and despite the overall lack of sunshine I’ve still managed to do a little sun lounging. Here are one or two thoughts that came to me as I relaxed.

French Supermarkets.

What on earth happens in France at supermarket checkouts? In the UK they seem to move along at a fair pace but in France, when the shopping has been scanned there is a sort of lull while the customers seem to take forever to pay. Many seem to pay by cheque which is surprising as I can’t even remember the last time I wrote a cheque but here in France, the customer pulls out his cheque book, spends forever writing it out and eventually they move on. For us British, it’s a quick tap of the card and the payment goes through and that’s it.

Kebabs.

One day when we were travelling along we ended up at a kebab takeaway which are very few and far between in France. We were probably heading for one of our favourite restaurants which of course, this being France, was closed. Restaurants here seem to close for staff holidays which means the entire establishment is shut unlike similar places in the UK which stagger their staff holidays. Strange!

Anyway, back to the kebab shop. We ordered our kebabs and frites and then the manager invited us to sit down on the couch and turned on the tv. Wait a minute, this was a fast food emporium,wasn’t it? Sorry, I forgot the French don’t do fast food. Slow food yes but not fast food. We watched most of the French news bulletin while the kebab man presumably peeled some spuds, dropped them in the frying pan and then sorted out the kebab meat. I asked if he had any chilli sauce but that seemed to confuse him. Sauce piquant I ventured? Ah, he did have some samurai sauce which seemed to sound pretty hot. It wasn’t but it was pretty nice.

Space Travel 2024.

While I curled up one night and surfed the internet I happened to read about the new Boeing Starliner, the latest in a series of new spacecraft which have been produced to replace the space shuttle. The Starliner reached the orbiting international space station but there were a few issues with the thrusters and so the spacecraft was returned to Earth without its crew. They were on a mission lasting eight days but will now be stuck up in space until February.

Returning without the two crew members was a safety precaution and although the craft landed without any issues a few of the thrusters did fail so it was better to be safe than sorry. The crew will return on another spacecraft, the Space X ship but what I found really odd was that the crew’s Starliner space suits are not compatible with the Space X spacecraft.

The two spacecraft are of course made by different companies but even so I thought that this particular issue was addressed during the Apollo program. If you have ever seen the movie Apollo 13 you will know that a small explosion on the service module meant that the crew had to move into the lunar excursion vehicle in order to conserve power and oxygen in the command module.

The lunar module and the command module were made by different manufacturers and many of the systems were not compatible and engineers on the ground had to work out how to make the two craft function together by rigging up temporary connections. Those procedures were then radioed up to Apollo 13 for the three man crew to set up. One item that had to be put together was something to clear the carbon dioxide out of the air. You would think that after all that, NASA would make sure that there were universal fittings between spacecraft, especially in the vital area of space suits.

Reading.

Life at the Top by John Braine.

This is a follow up to Room at the Top, one of the original kitchen sink dramas about a council house boy determined to make it to the top. In the first book, Joe Lampton seems to have made good. He has married the daughter of one of the area’s top businessmen, Councillor Brown. To do so he had no choice but to dump his lover, a married woman much older than himself, who then got drunk and was killed in a car accident.

Ten years later Joe is not that happy. He works for his father-in-law who has bought the couple a new house, all in Joe’s wife’s name of course. They have two children but Joe is bored and fed up.

He becomes a councillor just to satisfy the father-in-law but is shocked to find that his wife has been having an affair with the husband of his wife’s friend. That spurs him on to have his own affair and as you can imagine, it all ends in tears.

This novel, unlike its predecessor, reads a little like a soap opera and I found myself having little interest in whether Joe stays with his wife or leaves her or any of the goings on either at the council or in Joe’s home.

Verdict: 5/10

Anyway, that’s enough random thoughts for now, time for a swim!


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Holiday Book Bag 2024 Part 3

Parts one and two of my Book Bag were books I had taken to Lanzarote earlier in the year. This time Liz and I are tootling through France in our small motorhome. The weather has not been kind to us and rather than reading in the usual lovely sun, I’ve been reading indoors away from the rain. This year quite a few of my books are ones I have read before but I thought were due for a re-read. Anyway, here we go . . .

Toujours Provence by Peter Mayle

I wrote about this book a few weeks ago and you might be thinking ‘bet he’s included it here to pad out his post a bit’. Moi? As if I’d do such a thing. It’s the follow up to A Year in Provence, one of my favourite books about France by Peter Mayle. It’s a pleasant enough read but not a patch on the original.

Random Harvest by James Hilton

Wait a minute. Didn’t this guy write about this book a few weeks ago as well? Actually I did but as it was part of my book bag I thought I’d include it here anyway. A nice read, slightly different to the film starring Ronald Colman and Greer Garson. It was written before World War II and reflects the feelings of the time that perhaps more could have been done to either prevent the war or at least prepare more. A great read but I actually think I preferred the film to the book. Click here to read the full film and book review.

A Year in the Merde by Stephen Clarke

I read this book a few years ago and thought I’d throw it in my book bag for another read. As I remember, the first time round I absolutely loved this book. I saw it on a stall at a market once and mentioned to the seller what a great read it was. ‘Nah.’ replied the man. ‘It’s full of stereotypes!’ I wouldn’t say that at all. It’s a look at the life of a young man working in France as he tries to understand the French way of life and of course the language. The main character is engaged on a project to open an English tea room in Paris but feels that his boss and his colleagues are not that interested at all and when he eventually gets dropped by the company, he goes on to open the tea room himself. A nice read, humourous rather than laugh out loud funny and a little more biting than the Peter Mayle books. It’s a fun holiday read which goes a long way towards deciphering the French psyche.

The Kennedy Half Century by Larry J Sabato

This was billed as the ultimate Kennedy book but sadly it isn’t. It tells the story of John Kennedy and his run for the vice presidency, his years as a senator and then his presidential run. It goes on to look at his presidential years and then his murder and the last half of the book looks at how subsequent presidents have fared compared to JFK and the impact of Kennedy’s own presidency on the latter ones, all the way up to Obama.

A lot of it is interesting but there is nothing that I haven’t not only read about before but read in much more detail. The life and death of John Kennedy is one of my great interests. His murder happened on November the 22nd, 1963 when I was just seven years old and since then I’ve watched documentary after documentary and read numerous books.

The author tries to show an open mind about the assassination, looking briefly at the many theories that have been put forward over the years. Was the CIA or the mafia involved? Were the culprits the Cubans or the anti-Cubans? Was the military industrial complex behind the murder as Oliver Stone suggests in the film JFK? Perhaps it really was Oswald after all.

Looking back I think that one of the drawbacks to the book is that the author hasn’t really made his mind up what he actually thinks has happened. If he had a viewpoint himself, the narrative might have had more focus. The only real investigative effort in the book was to review the acoustical evidence, a recording made by a police officer with a microphone jammed open during the shooting and which led the House Select Committee on Assassinations to declare there was a shooter on the famous grassy knoll.

Well, maybe not says the author. Their research pinpoints a different officer with the jammed microphone and not the one selected by the HSCA which means there wasn’t another shooter after all. OK but there were clear shots of gunfire on the tape. Where did they come from? The author seems to think that they may have been noises from the officer’s motorcycle. Really?

An interesting read but the final chapters on the subsequent presidents and their relationships to JFK was actually a pretty pointless exercise that could have been summed up in just one chapter. If you would like to find out more, the book has its own website where you can read, among other things, the review of the acoustical evidence. Click here to access.

A Kind of Loving by Stan Barstow

This is another book that has been made into a successful film and also a great TV series. It’s a kitchen sink drama set in the early 1960s about a young Yorkshire lad who gets a girl pregnant and then realises he really wasn’t as in love with her as he thought he was. I’ve actually read this book quite a few times and it’s one of those that I mention when people ask me to describe Floating in Space. As much as I’m fond of Floating, this book is infinitely better. It’s a very simple story and probably one that has happened hundreds of times to hundreds of couples.

If you ever watch the TV series Long Lost Family, it shows that many people were in the same position as the couple in the book only instead of getting married, some young mothers in the 1950s and 60s were forced to give up illegitimate children for adoption.

Vic and Ingrid, the fictional couple, do get married even though Vic hopes for a last minute escape before the wedding day arrives. Not only is the main story authentic but so is the background to the book. Vic is a draughtsman in Yorkshire and his father is a miner.

The description of family life back then rings a bell with my own background in Manchester. Vic’s mother is a lot like my mother and there is a very lovely chapter when Vic goes to give blood with his father and then the two pop into the local pub for a pint. It was just like moments out with my own father, down to the banter with my mother when we both returned home. A wonderful read and so glad I brought it along to France.


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Wet Weather, Books and Back Pain

Our little motorhome has been fuelled and packed and it’s time to take another drive over to France. We decided to go over to France via Eurotunnel. The big drawback of course is that travelling from the northwest, it’s a helluva drive down to Folkestone. Not just the drive itself but we have to contend with the perils of the M6 and the M25, two of the UK’s busiest motorways.

What we did was take a break and stop at a place called the Bricklayers Arms in Sevenoaks. We parked up, had some food and drinks and entered the pub quiz. The next morning it was only a quick trip down to Folkestone and soon we were chugging smoothly along under the ocean and over to Calais.

We drove across to one of our favourite restaurants, Le Mas Fleuri. It’s a quiet family run place and the simple food is always wonderful. I have to say I sometimes wonder how the place survives as, certainly in the evenings, it is always quiet. Anyway, this time we were dining at lunchtime and we found that not long after sitting down, a steady stream of customers began coming in after us and soon the dining room was full. The French do love their lunches.

We left Lanzarote a few months ago fit and well after five weeks of swimming and sunning ourselves but the trip back via Jet2.com was on the most uncomfortable aircraft I have ever flown on and since then I’ve been suffering with a sore back. I went into our local doctor’s surgery and they told me that they now have a practice physio. The physio, who I’m sure was a very competent fellow, didn’t seem to feel it necessary to actually examine my back in any way but even so, he felt confident enough to recommend that I take some over the counter painkillers and undertake a series of exercises which he thought would help. I have been doing the exercises, not totally on a full time basis but I have done them, well some of them, but the pain has been gradually getting worse.

That’s perhaps not the best time to drive a motorhome over to France and it has been challenging to say the least. My back soon went from sore to very painful and from then on to some moments of intense agony. The pain started in my lower back, then after a few days migrated to my right hip and now seems to be remaining in my right leg. At one point the epicentre of the pain moved to an area in my lower back from where it sent out electrically charged bolts of pain down both legs to a point where it seemed like my legs would collapse. I’ve still got a lot of pain but recently, touch wood, I have not had any what I tend to call screaming agony attacks.

Luckily, since then I’ve tried to anticipate when the bad times will come and gulp down an appropriate amount of painkillers. The bad times usually come in threes; the first comes at about lunchtime when Liz is doing our late breakfast. (Sorry I can’t assist Liz, I’m in pain.) Secondly about 6pm to 6:30 when Liz is making tea (Sorry I can’t assist again) and lastly late on about 1am, our usual bedtime (Liz, any chance of a back rub?)

It’s difficult to deal with certain situations now, situations that previously I wouldn’t even think about. I’ve dropped my handkerchief/tissue on the floor. OK. How the heck am I going to get that? I can’t just bend over. I can’t reach down. It happened the other day in a restaurant and I had to kick it over to Liz and she managed to raise it up with her collapsible back scratcher and I just managed to reach it. Situation (only just) sorted. Other situations arise that I wouldn’t even think about. I need to have a wee but an electric shock is going through my right leg when I try to move. What can I do? Just hang on until the pain eases, I suppose. I suddenly have a new respect for disabled people,

These last few days it is my right leg that is throbbing quietly with an ache that gnaws at the inside of my thigh and makes it difficult to walk and also to sleep. Another interesting thing is that while I’ve been researching the issue over on Google and YouTube, looking for exercises that might help, a number of those mysterious things called ‘cookies’ have clearly latched themselves to my iPad because everywhere I go on the internet, I find little adverts from someone who has discovered the ‘real’ cure to back pain and sciatica.

I can download their quick self-help guide and even sign up (for a small fee) to their regular pain free back sessions and discover the ‘secret’ to a pain free life.

The other thing about this trip is the weather. It’s cold! We have been coming to this part of France and renting this same property in Parçay Les Pins for a number of years but this is the first time we have ever had to crank up the heating. Week one, pottering about in our motorhome was pretty warm and week two was a bit of a mixture, some warm and sunny days and some cold and overcast. Today as I write this it has been cold and wet.

We drove down to a local fête and vide grenier this morning. As it is a bank holiday Monday in France, we knew that the local supermarket was only opening until 12:30 so we popped in to update our diminishing cheese supply. There was no bread of course, the locals had come in early doors and removed all that but at least we had a few ‘bake it in the oven’ loaves for later and of course, some cheese.

Just round the corner there was a local fête taking place. The roads were closed off as usual but from what we could see when we arrived, the rain had caused people to pack up and only a few solitary stalls remained. OK we thought, might as well drive down to our local restaurant for lunch.

The Station Restaurant which we both love was closed so as the rain was easing off we went back to the fête to take a closer look at the few stalls remaining. We found that on the other side of the village square there were some classic cars and motorcycles, all gleaming and wet. The bar was open and also a full multi course restauration was being served. All we wanted was the usual sausage and chips takeaway and a glass of red so we looked at the classic cars and motorcycles, watched the display by the local dancers and then went back home for some bacon and eggs.

Yesterday we had a lovely swim when the clouds parted for a short while and a burning hot sun appeared. Somehow I don’t think today will be swimming weather.

As usual on holiday I always come armed with a stash of books and this year is no exception. A few of the books are ones I have dug out of a box at home and are ones I haven’t read for a while. One of them was Toujours Provence, a sequel to the successful A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle.

A Year in Provence has long been one of my favourite books. There are no gunfights or car chases. It’s a very gentle read, about the author and his wife deciding to move to Provence to live. The story of how they settle into their new home and their new country is told in a very easy going and humorous style. They have problems with their heating, they have a new kitchen built, they buy a great stone table for outdoor meals, the author describes the personalities of the locals as well as the restaurants and the wonderful meals they have there.

The follow up, Toujours Provence, is a slightly different book. There is no story linking the chapters together. Each chapter is like a short essay about all things French. Some are interesting and some are not and sadly, many fall into the latter category. One exception however is a chapter about writing that fits in totally with my own thoughts on the subject.

For most of the time, it’s a solitary, monotonous business. There is the occasional reward of a good sentence -or rather, what you think is a good sentence, since there’s nobody else to tell you. There are long, unproductive stretches when you consider taking up some form of regular and useful employment like chartered accountancy. There is constant doubt that anyone will want to read what you’re writing, panic at missing deadlines that you have imposed on yourself, and the deflating realization that those deadlines couldn’t matter less to the rest of the world. A thousand words a day, or nothing; it makes no difference to anyone but you. That part of writing is undoubtedly a dog’s life. What makes it worth living is the happy shock of discovering that you have managed to give a few hours of entertainment to people you’ve never met. And if some of them should write to tell you, the pleasure of receiving their letters is like applause. It makes up for all the grind.

In Peter Mayle’s case, various people have decided to not only write to him but sometimes to even seek him out and ask for his autograph on their copy of his book. One couple of complete strangers even arrived and made themselves comfortable in his house while the author himself was out on the patio. He only found them when he came inside for a glass of wine.

As for me, I’m happy with the occasional ‘like’ either on Twitter or Facebook or even here on WordPress but wait a minute, is that some sunshine breaking through the cloud? Time for a glass of wine on the patio!


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Random Harvest: The Film of the Book or the Book of the Film

Once again Liz and I are on holiday in France and as usual I’ve filled up my book bag with books to read. My selection this year was a mix of new books and some books from my collection which I haven’t read for years. The one I’d like to focus on this week is Random Harvest by one of my favourite writers, James Hilton.

Hilton hailed from Leigh in Lancashire, now Greater Manchester. He wrote several books and made his way to Hollywood, California where he worked as a screenwriter. He died in 1954. Searching through a box of my old books I came across Random Harvest, a book I don’t think I have ever read before. I bought it from a second hand book shop along with Goodbye Mr Chips, possibly Hilton’s most famous novel and one I have read before. I can imagine intending to read it but moving on to something else and the book was boxed up in one of numerous house moves before I had a chance to get to it.

The Film

The film version starred Ronald Colman and Greer Garson in the leading roles. The film opens with a man called Smith wandering out of an asylum on a day when there is much excitement. It is Armistice Day, 1918 and ‘Smithy’ is a man who has lost his memory during the fighting in the First World War. He wanders down to the town of Melbury and in a tobacco shop the shopkeeper realises Smithy is from the asylum. When she disappears into the back of the shop a woman played by Greer Garson explains that the shopkeeper has gone to call the asylum so that he if wants to avoid going back he must get away. The woman, Paula, befriends Smithy and hides him away and soon she finds she is falling for him. The two elope together, find a quiet village in which to settle down and get married.

Smithy, who has no memory of his former life begins to write and soon has a story accepted by a newspaper in Liverpool. He takes the train there for an interview with the editor but on a wet afternoon, slips in the road and is hit by a taxi. He is knocked unconscious and when he awakes his memory has returned but he has no memory of his time as Smithy. How did he get to Liverpool? What door to what house fits the key found in his pocket? A policeman asks his name and he replies ‘Charles Rainier’. Gathering his things he sets off to take the train home to his country estate but arrives just as his father has passed away. The family has gathered and they are all surprised but glad to see Charles who later goes on to take charge and rescue the failing family business.

The final part of the film sees Charles happy as a new Conservative MP and successful businessman but also sad that a part of his life has been lost to him. He makes various attempts to find his former life but all end in failure until one night when a strike breaks out at the Melbury factory and he has to go there to sort things out. As he walks into Melbury he comes to the tobacco shop he once entered as ‘Smithy’ and things begin to come back to him.

Colman and Greer Garson play their parts wonderfully well. The film is perhaps a little sentimental for modern viewers but it is one of those films I saw as a child and have always remembered. Reviewers at the time were not impressed but even so, the film was nominated for 7 Oscars and it was MGM’s biggest hit of 1942.

The Book

The book tells the story in an entirely different way. It begins with a chance encounter on a train with Rainier and a young man who is looking for work. The two strike up a sort of friendship and Rainier invites the young man to work for him, He explains that he was in the war, was injured and woke up in a German hospital with loss of memory. He was repatriated through Switzerland but got his memory back after a fall and a collision with a taxi in Liverpool. The time between his earlier life and waking up in Liverpool is a blank. The young man becomes Rainier’s assistant and the two sometimes talk late into the night discussing what might have happened. Later in the book, Rainier is called to intervene at a dispute at the Melbury factory and his memory begins to return. He asks a local taxi driver about the hospital. The man asks does he mean the new or the old one? Rainier thinks the old one and goes on to describe it. ‘That doesn’t sound like either of them,’ answers the man but adds, ‘would you be meaning the asylum sir?’

The book is a really interesting read and being written in the years before the second world war, gives the reader a little insight into the feelings of that time, a dissatisfaction with the League of Nations, a feeling that perhaps the First World War could have been settled sooner or even that the allies might have gone on to Berlin and perhaps parcelled up Germany into a smaller nation.

The climax of the book is Charles’ reunion with Paula who turns out to be his wife and former secretary so we find that Charles and Smithy married the same girl which worked well in the book but of course had to be told differently in the film.

Which did I enjoy more? Well I loved both works but to be fair I’ve always loved the film version and as much as I love James Hilton, I think I prefer the film. It isn’t often seen on TV and not long ago I managed to copy my VHS version to DVD but I did notice that a restored DVD version was released in 2005 which I must look out for.


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Remembering James Dean

Back in the 1970s my Saturday ritual involved getting the bus into town and scouring book and record shops for, yes, you’ve guessed it, books and records. One day back then I was flipping through the posters in one particular shop. The posters were the music stars of the 70s; Elton John, Mick Jagger, Suzi Quatro, David Bowie and so on but one was a picture of a really good looking guy with a fifties combed back hair style. In some pictures he was dressed like a cowboy and in others in a red jacket and denim jeans. The guy behind the counter must have seen me wondering who the guy was and he told me he was a film star called James Dean. He handed me a paperback book about the actor and I took it home and read it and very soon I was trying to find out everything I could about him.

James Dean had been killed in a car crash in 1955 and had only appeared in three films and at the time of his death, only one of those films had been released. I read a great deal about Dean when I was in my late teens and from what I could find out, the biography to read was written by his best friend, William Bast. I never managed to get a copy of that book back then but Bast produced a made for TV film version, James Dean: Portrait of a friend with Stephen McHattie as Dean.

As TV biopics go, Portrait of a Friend was pretty enjoyable but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it repeated on TV. I used to have a VHS recording of the film but when I looked recently I was unable to find it. Funnily enough, not long ago I was in one of those budget shops, it might have been Poundstretchers and I saw a copy of the film on DVD. It was a very poor version, in fact it looked as though it had been copied straight from an old VHS tape but even so, it was interesting to see it again.

Watching that DVD got me interested in Dean again and so I had a search through my book collection to see what books I had on the subject.

The paperback book I bought that day in the record shop in the 1970’s was probably James Dean: A Short Life by Venable Herndon. It wasn’t a great book but an interesting introduction to Dean and who he was. It detailed his struggle for acting roles, TV work in New York, his apartment at 19 West Sixty-Eighth Street, his three films, his doomed affair with Pier Angeli and of course his death.

A similar book although bigger and with more photographs was a biography by John Howlet. I couldn’t find that particular book although I’m certain I wouldn’t have given it away or thrown it out.

A slightly different book I bought back in the 1970’s was a Japanese book about Dean. I’m not sure of the title, there are some Japanese ideograms and the name in English, James Dean, on the back cover. There is little text inside the book, basically it’s just a picture album and I guess the Japanese read books from right to left as the book starts with his last film and then finishes with his first film.

My Japanese James Dean book.

James Dean by David Dalton was another purchase back in the 1970s. It’s a much more in depth look at Dean’s life and skimming through it I came across a few pages about Dean’s last day, Friday September 30th, 1955. The author presented a short timeline of that day starting from 8am when Dean picked up his silver Porsche from Competition Motors in Hollywood to 5.45pm when he was killed in a car accident.

James Dean was competing in a car race in Salinas and had decided to drive his competition car, the Porsche, to the event as the car was brand new and Dean wanted to get some miles on the clock.

As well as my books on the famous actor I also have a box set containing his three films.

East of Eden is based on the final part of the book by John Steinbeck. It’s about two brothers who compete for the love of their father. Dean played the ‘bad’ brother and the father was played by veteran actor Raymond Massey who was continually shocked by Dean’s bad language and sullen and moody demeanour.

Rebel Without a Cause is probably the most well known of Dean’s three films. Dean plays Jim Stark, a rebellious teenager who has been in trouble at school and has either been expelled or forced to leave. The film follows him on his first day at the new school as he attempts to make friends with a group of fellow classmates but the result is that he makes more enemies. He gets involved in a ‘chicken run’ with fellow classmate Buzz in which the two have to drive a stolen car towards a cliff edge and the last one to jump out is ‘chicken’. Buzz fails to exit his car and is killed.

It’s a great film even though James Dean looks far too old to be still going to school.

His final film was Giant based on a novel by Edna Ferber. The film is set in Texas and is about millionaire ranchers and cattlemen. Dean plays Jett Rink, a sullen ranch hand who unexpectedly inherits some land, finds oil there and suddenly becomes rich. After punching ranch owner Rock Hudson, Dean, covered in oil after striking oil, drives away as Chill Wills says, ‘you should have shot that fella a long time ago. Now he’s too rich to kill.’

Another book I picked up only recently was another picture album James Dean: Portrait of Cool edited by Leith Adams and Keith Burns. It’s an album of photographs found in the Warner Bros archive and some have not been published before. Included are all sorts of documents such as casting sheets, production notes and messages. Dean’s address is listed as 3908 West Olive Avenue which I think might have been a place he shared with Dick Davalos who played his brother in East of Eden. During Rebel Without a Cause, Dean was listed as living at 1541 Sunset Plaza Drive.

1541 sunset Plaza Drive today from Google Maps.

Last Christmas Liz bought me one of my favourite presents, a copy of the Bill Bast memoir I mentioned earlier. Bill Bast shared apartments in both Hollywood and New York with Dean. In Hollywood, Bast became frustrated sharing a home with his friend. In the book, Bast accuses Dean of being untidy and moody and seemed to feel that he was subsidising Dean at one point as Bast was the only one with a job. After a dispute Bill decided to move to another apartment although the two remained friends. The book is written almost as if Dean was the love of Bast’s life and perhaps he was. In later life Bast wrote another memoir in which he claimed he and Dean had a gay relationship.

I’m not sure why someone like me, a council house boy from Northern England, should connect so closely with James Dean but back in the seventies the late star became one of my personal heroes. I remember going to a cinema on Oxford Road in Manchester to see back to back showings of East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause on a very hot summer’s day. I bought a soundtrack album of those movies too, in the days before video and DVD.

Dean was a counterpoint to actors like Richard Burton; he mumbled and mispronounced things. I think that was what I liked about him; he was natural and imperfect. He had an image more rock star than 50’s actor. There was a great documentary about him made in the 70s and the music of the times, Bowie and Elton John featured heavily. Anyone remember that Eagles track ‘James Dean’?

Dean met his end on September 30th 1955 as he sped towards a race meeting in Salinas. He had already been stopped by the police and given a speeding ticket while driving his Porsche. In the passenger seat was his mechanic Rolf Weutherich and following behind was photographer Sandforth Roth and his friend Bill Hickman. They were towing the trailer on which the Porsche was originally mounted before Dean decided to drive.

As Dean approached the intersection of routes 466 and 41 in Chalome, a Ford station wagon turned across the path of the Porsche. “That guy up there’s gotta stop.” said Dean. The two cars collided. Rolf was thrown clear but James Dean was killed.

Today, years later, thousands of fans make pilgrimages every year to see Dean’s home in Fairmount, Indiana and to the intersection on highway 466 where he died. At his graveside in Fairmount fans chisel away bits of his gravestone for mementos and a bust of Dean by the sculptor Kenneth Kendall was ripped from its plinth. In 1977 a Japanese businessman named Seita Ohnishi had a chromium sculpture erected at the crash site on highway 466 in memory of Dean.

So why do people still hanker after James Dean all these years later? Well, I simply don’t know. As a young man I thought Dean was the epitome of cool and like many others I made him into my hero. Whilst doing some research about Jimmy Dean I came across this line on another site: “Some people are living lodestones. They get under the skin of people. You can’t explain why.” I can’t disagree.

Still, heroes come and heroes fade away. My heroes today are not the ones I used to love and worship thirty years ago. The thing is though, after writing this essay about Jimmy Dean I felt that I must find the time to look at some of his films again. Now where did I put that James Dean box set?


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The Rise and Fall of OJ Simpson

Every Thursday Liz and I visit our local pub for our weekly quiz night. It’s not a particularly tough quiz and we’ve even won it on the odd occasion but one thing we do in advance is check the internet to see if any celebrities have died as Mike, our pub quizmaster, tends to throw in a question or two about recently deceased celebs. One name that popped up on Google was that of OJ Simpson who passed away recently from cancer. I tend to watch the TV news most days so either I missed the story about OJ or perhaps these days his name isn’t as newsworthy as it once was. Simpson was 76 years old and a former US sports star, actor and allegedly a murderer.

Back in 1994 Simpson’s estranged wife was brutally murdered and Simpson was the prime suspect. If he had been anyone other than a famous sports star and TV commentator, he would have been arrested but for whatever reason, he wasn’t. Later arrangements were made for OJ to come and surrender himself at Police Headquarters in Los Angeles but he did not appear. Shortly afterwards TV helicopters spotted Simpson driving down the freeway and a posse of police cars followed but kept at a distance because OJ was reported to be holding a gun to his head. This bizarre procession was broadcast live and at various intersections crowds gathered to watch and wave to OJ. When it was reported that OJ was heading to his home crowds of supporters gathered there to watch his arrival and eventually he surrendered his gun and was duly arrested.

OJ Simpson: Made in America is an outstanding documentary, released in 2016. It runs for over five hours and won an Oscar for best documentary. Episode one details Simpson’s incredible sporting career and also showed how it was important for him to be seen just as OJ rather than OJ the black athlete. He was apparently a friendly and amiable man who made many friends in the sporting world and kept himself well away from controversy and was never involved in the civil rights movement in America unlike sporting celebrities like Mohammed Ali. Later episodes show how he made a life after sport by becoming a TV sports pundit and by courting wealthy friends in Los Angeles to advise on his investments. In particular he made TV advertisements for Hertz car rentals which were highly popular and did well not only for Hertz but raised Simpson’s profile in the USA even higher.

The series also looks at the climate of race relations in Los Angeles and the activities and methods of the LAPD who clearly were not engaging or even trying to engage with the black community. A ‘them and us’ situation evolved in LA and when Rodney King, a black motorist was brutally beaten by a group of white police officers and caught on an amateur video, the situation become even more inflamed. The officers were taken to court but found innocent by a white jury causing riots and disturbances in the area.  This was the background of the later OJ Simpson murder trial.

Simpson divorced his wife and married eighteen-year-old Nicole Brown, a blonde LA waitress. Their marriage lasted seven years and was not happy, especially in the latter years when Nicole was beaten and abused by Simpson. She called the police numerous times reporting OJ for assault. On June 13th, 1994, Nicole and a waiter named Ron Goldman were found dead. A trail of blood led away from the scene and later blood was found on Simpson’s white Ford Bronco.

Simpson was not as famous in the UK as in America but I do remember seeing the crazy car chase on TV with Simpson in his white Bronco followed by a fleet of Police cars. The documentary series completely gripped me and the portrait of Simpson himself and the racial climate in Los Angeles and the attitude of the police was compelling.

I was so interested in the OJ trial I picked up a book about it and this is how I reviewed it a few years ago:

The People v OJ Simpson by Jeffrey Toobin

This fascinating book is a detailed look at the 1995 murder trial of former US football player OJ Simpson. Simpson was accused of murdering his ex-wife Nicole and her friend Ron Goldman. The pair were murdered outside Nicole’s house in the Brentwood area of Los Angeles and bloody footprints were found leading away from the scene. Simpson’s car had blood traces with matches to both Nicole’s and Goldman’s blood. There was even a low-speed police pursuit of Simpson that was broadcast live on TV bringing in a reported 95 million viewers.

The defence team managed to divert attention away from all of this evidence by playing into the troubled atmosphere in the area at the time. Motorist Rodney King, a black man had been beaten by a group of white police officers. They were all cleared of wrongdoing by a white jury despite the fact the incident was recorded on video clearly showing the officers beating up King. The defence also made great play about a ‘racist’ cop who was one of the first on the scene and even implied he could have planted damning evidence at Simpson’s home, that of a bloody leather glove that matched one found at the murder scene.

Witnesses gave newspaper and TV interviews as well as the lawyers themselves. The trial proceedings were broadcast live making the defence and prosecution teams into instant TV stars. The judge welcomed TV pundit Larry King into the courtroom and held up proceedings while King and the Judge chatted in his private chambers. The media attention led to the jury being sequestered for the length of the trial and not allowed to read newspapers, magazines or watch the TV news about the trial. A number of them were dismissed during the proceedings for various things, only 4 of the original jurors making it to the end.

Both sides were involved in the jury selection procedure asking questions ranging from sports to their views on domestic violence, all things that would be incredible in an English courtroom. Incredibly, before the trial had even started the TV news had broadcast a 999 call by Nicole requesting the police because Simpson was beating her up.

The author describes the background to the defence and prosecution teams and how they worked. One interesting thing was their use of outside companies who specialised in jury selection and analyses. The defence team followed the advice of their researchers who advised that middle aged black women tended to favour Simpson. The prosecution had the same advice but prosecutor Marcia Clark felt that that same group, middle aged black women, responded strongly to her and that her depiction of OJ as a wife beater would sway them. That was a big mistake.

This is a deeply fascinating book written by a journalist who covered the trial at the time for the New Yorker magazine.

Getting back to the present and I thought I’d watch the whole documentary, OJ Simpson: Made in America, all the way through, all five hours, over the course of a few evenings.

The first episode showed Simpson’s impressive sports career and the huge following he began to accrue. At one event in 1973 he was about to beat a record as the first player in the NFL, National Football League, to rush for more than 2000 yards. I’m not quite sure what that meant but from the video it looked equivalent to a rugby player making a try in the UK. Even the opposing team began to cheer him on. After retiring Simpson was asked to make a TV advert for the Hertz car rental company which was very popular. Simpson had become one of the most well known figures in America, loved by both black and white Americans. He had a beautiful wife, a fabulous home and wonderful children. Where could it all go wrong?

His wife made numerous calls to the police after beatings by OJ and the couple eventually split. At one point they tried to get back together but the violence began again and Nicole finally moved out.

On the evening of 12th June 1994, Nicole Simpson along with her children and various family members went for dinner at the Mezzaluna restaurant. Later, Nicole’s mother found she had left her glasses at the restaurant and waiter Ronald Goldman volunteered to return them to Nicole’s home. Later the two are found brutally stabbed to death. Simpson had left that evening on an 11.45pm flight to Chicago where he was due to play golf. However, blood stains were found on his car, a Ford Bronco and bloody footprints were left behind belonging to a type of shoe he was known to have worn.

At the trial the defence team tried to assert that one of the first detectives on the scene, Detective Mark Fuhrman, was a racist and had tried to frame OJ by leaving a bloody glove behind. It was later revealed that in the past he had given an interview to an author which she recorded in which he used disparaging language against the black community. When he was later recalled to the court he took the 5th amendment on each question, including when he was asked if he had planted the bloody glove.

Racial tensions had been bad in the area due to the Rodney King incident and there was jubilation in the black community when OJ was found innocent and shock in the white community.

OJ seemed to think he could carry on with his life as before but a civil suit by the Goldman family found him guilty and liable for damages. He was forced to sell his home and was later arrested when he forcefully tried to retrieve his sporting memorabilia which he believed had been stolen from him.

At the subsequent trial OJ was found guilty and sentenced to 33 years in prison. He was released on parole after serving 9 years.

OJ Simpson died on 10th April 2024 after suffering with prostate cancer.


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Celebrating Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens is one of my writing heroes. He is a giant in the world of literature and the author of one of my favourite books of all time, David Copperfield. He was a man with an incredible imagination and was a prodigious producer of numerous books and stories. Many of his works are still loved and appreciated today and the magic of his story telling is also reflected in film and television adaptations of his work.

Dickens was born on February 7th, 1812. His father was John Dickens, a clerk in the Naval Pay Office. His mother was Elizabeth Dickens and she and her husband raised eight children including Charles, their second child. Charles and his family had a pretty idyllic life until John Dickens, who clearly lived beyond his means, was arrested for debts and incarcerated in the Marshallsea debtors’ prison in Southwark, London.

As was the custom then the younger members of the family were able to live in the prison with their mother and father but Charles, then aged 12, took lodgings nearby and was forced to leave school and work in Warren’s Blacking Warehouse where he earned six shillings a week for pasting labels on bottles of boot blacking.

It was a shocking and humiliating experience for the young Dickens. He never mentioned the experience to any of his children and only spoke about it in later life to his great friend John Forster, who later wrote the first biography of Dickens. Dickens also wrote about the experience in his novel David Copperfield in which the young Copperfield suffers the same fate.

My well thumbed copy of David Copperfield

Mr Micawber, a character in the same book, was based on his own father and eventually John Dickens was able to pay off his debts when his mother died and left him £450. He and his family were released from prison but Charles was not immediately released from his work at the boot blacking warehouse, indeed his mother wanted him to continue there but it was his father who decided that Charles should return to school. Charles was forever indebted to his father for this and forever hurt by his mother’s wish that he should continue pasting labels onto bottles of boot blacking. The experience scarred him and his later desire to work harder and earn more and more money may have been a need to make himself safe from ever being forced into such a situation again.

After two years at school, Dickens obtained employment as a lawyer’s clerk and later, he taught himself shorthand and began work as a parliamentary reporter. He became infatuated at this time with a lady called Maria Beadnall who later became the inspiration for the character of Dora in David Copperfield. Charles pursued Maria over a period of three years but the romance, if indeed there ever was one, finally fizzled out in the spring of 1833.

Dickens first foray into the world of creative fiction was a short story titled A Dinner at Poplar Walk. He had sent the story to a monthly magazine simply called, The Monthly Magazine and upon finding his story printed within its pages, reported that ‘his eyes were so dimmed with joy and pride’ that he could barely see.

In 1835 the editor of the Morning Chronicle, George Hogarth, invited Dickens to contribute to his newspaper and during various visits to the Hogarth home he became acquainted with his editor’s daughter Catherine, whom he later married in 1836.

Dickens wrote his newspaper stories under the pseudonym Boz, and he was delighted when a publisher offered to publish a collection of his works entitled Sketches by Boz. This led to another publisher asking Dickens to supply the text to go with a series of illustrations by a popular illustrator of the day, Robert Stephens. Dickens somehow managed to turn the arrangement on its head, writing a story and having Stephens illustrate Dicken’s text. The story was The Pickwick Papers and it soon became something of a publishing phenomenon.

Robert Stephens passed away soon after the first publication and Dickens recruited another artist, Hablot Knight Browne, to provide the illustrations. Readers could buy a monthly instalment priced at a shilling and Dickens worked hard to produce each edition. Other stories had been published in a similar way but they were usually well known classics. This was the first time new fiction had been produced in this way.

That then was the start of Dicken’s career. He was a busy man, editing various publications as well as writing his novels. Great Expectations was published with the author shown as Boz but in later editions this was changed to Charles Dickens.

Dickens_by_Watkins_1858

Dickens seems to have rented various houses, moving around often but he eventually bought a house in 1851, Tavistock House in Tavistock Square, London. Dickens wrote various books here starting with Bleak House. He also fancied himself as something of an actor and he had a large room made into an improvised theatre where he, along with his friends and family, produced various amateur theatricals. In 1858, Charles separated from his wife Catherine and she moved out into a property in Camden Town.

The separation was said to have been sparked by Dickens’ obsession with a young actress called Ellen Ternan and his gift of either a brooch or a bracelet to her which somehow made its way to his wife. Dickens has this image of being the perfect Victorian family man but he didn’t always live up to it. According to Wikipedia he even tried to get his wife falsely diagnosed as mentally ill in order to have her committed to an asylum. Various accusations were bandied about at the time and rumours were so bad that Dickens himself was forced to publish a statement in the press about his marital situation.

Did Dickens have an affair with Ellen Ternan? So many years later it is hard to know the truth. One night when he was living at his new home Gad’s Hill Place, Dickens made a bonfire of all his personal letters and papers, some of which may have had the answers.

Certainly, Charles was fond of Ellen Ternan. He spent a lot of time with her and even took her abroad to France and Belgium but neither admitted to having an affair but he did have something of a history of obsessions. Years earlier he had been distraught when his sister-in-law Mary Hogarth had died suddenly at the age of 17. Mary was living with the Dickens family at the time and died in Charles’ arms. He was so upset that he kept his dead sister in law’s clothes for years afterwards, occasionally taking them out to look at them. Mary became the template for many women in his books, all of whom were ‘young, beautiful and good’.

Dickens had an incredible imagination and although many of his characters were based on real people, many others sprang directly from his own mind. He was a restless man and regularly took daily and nightly walks of twenty miles and more. Presumably on those walks he brought his imagination into check and channelled his thoughts into the development of his stories.

In his later life, Charles embarked on a series of readings from his books. The readings were highly charged emotional events and the author used all his powers as an actor to delight his audiences, frequently reducing them to tears. Tickets for the reading were highly sought after and Dickens was one of the most notable and famous men of his day. Imagine George Clooney or Brad Pitt doing a series of book readings today and we can get just a faint hint of what things were like for Dickens and his public back then.

Dickens bought his final home, Gad’s Hill Place in March of 1856. He had seen the house as a child when his father had pointed the house out to him as something that he might one day own if he worked hard enough. He lived at the house with his children although one, Charles junior, elected to live with his mother in Camden Town. Strangely, his estranged wife’s sister, Georgina, stayed with Charles as housekeeper.

On June 8th 1870, Dickens had a stroke after working on his final book, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. He died the next day without regaining consciousness. Some have speculated that he died at Ellen Ternan’s house and she had him taken back to Gad’s Hill to prevent a scandal. He was laid to rest in Poets Corner at Westminster Abbey.

Charles Dickens is one of the most loved and celebrated writers of all time but I’ve got to say that some of his books I’ve found a little hard to read. I’ve tried and tried to read Pickwick Papers but I just couldn’t get through it. Not long ago I picked up Bleak House and once again I couldn’t really get started on the book. I have read A Christmas Carol, Oliver Twist, Great Expectations and my absolute favourite, David Copperfield.

My favourite character in the book, apart from Copperfield himself, is Steerforth, a friend of David Copperfield but one who ultimately betrays him. The best part in the book probably, for me at any rate, is the storm when David returns to Yarmouth. Dickens builds the storm slowly and each word and phrase adds a new layer to the sense of danger and foreboding and when Copperfield is finally reunited with his old friend Steerforth at the height of the storm’s ferocity, death comes between them and Steerforth is sadly drowned.

Dickens reveals this in a very unique way; he does not tell the reader Steerforth is dead. He leaves the reader to realise this themselves and, in the process, makes the reader almost at one with the narrative. Throughout the book, Dickens mentions in passing about Steerforth’s habit of sleeping with his head on his arm. It’s referred to many times in the narrative almost as a matter of non interest, something unimportant that the reader doesn’t really need to know, but when David Copperfield spies someone aboard a stricken ship trapped in the fierce storm who evokes some faint remembrance for him, a tiny warning bell is set off.

Finally, when the body of a drowned man is brought ashore and lies mutely on the sand, his head upon his arm, we know just from that simple bit of information, without the author telling us anything more, that Steerforth is dead. The prompts and clues that Dickens has hinted at have paid off for the reader in the most satisfying of ways.

Dickens’ books are still popular today and a recent cinema version of David Copperfield was released in 2019. It was good although I do have a fondness for the 1935 version in which WC Fields plays the part of Mr Micawber. In 1946 David Lean directed one of the best ever films of a Dickens’ story, Great Expectations. In the 1960’s Oliver Twist was made into a stage musical by Lionel Bart and the film version was released in 1968.

Dickens’ most filmed story though is probably A Christmas Carol, the story of Ebenezer Scrooge and the three ghostly visits that transform his life.

What is your favourite Dickens’ story?


Sources:

Wikipedia

Dickens by Peter Ackroyd


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