Tag: The Mirror and the Light

Musings on Mantel, comps deadlines and a lovely Rock Rose

And so it goes on

Life has settled into a gentle daily routine, namely breakfast (in the garden most days until this cold snap), desk work, chores or gardening usually in the morning, salad and cheese/crackers or mackerel pate for lunch, then reading, more gardening, a walk or a run, a bit of yoga, a game of Scrabble at 6-ish, an episode of Spooks,Van Der Valk or whatever in the evening. Having regular punctuation points (and giving thanks daily to all the relevant gods for our fortunate situation) seems to help keep frustration at bay. And if all else fails, cups of tea. It reminds me of the various office jobs I’ve had in the past – it didn’t matter how frequently it happened, every time someone said ‘cup of tea anyone?’ the answer was always ‘LOVE ONE’.

The garden is starting to bloom. This is a marvellous thing.

Cistus in flower

I finished Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light. I’m still thinking about it. Did I enjoy it more than the first two books? No, but then how reasonable is it to say that Wolf Hall was the best? It was the first, so it had the most impact. When it comes to Mirror, we know it’s the third part of the story of Thomas Cromwell, and it’s hardly a spoiler to say it ends with his death.  But how on earth do you write about real people like this, real people, not fictional characters, many of whose lives have been recorded and dissected over the centuries, and weave them into a story that’s original, alive, relevant, thrilling even. As a reader, you know what’s coming but still can’t wait to turn the page. It’s extraordinary.

I’m not a great reader of fiction. Mantel’s trilogy has made me curious about some of the other people who appear as characters her the books and what became of them, such as Rafe Sadler, who went on to serve four monarchs, and William Herbert who has a bit-part in Mirror: he rose to become the first Earl of Pembroke and was given huge swathes of Wiltshire to build a house and start a dynasty. His daughter-in-law Mary was apparently a brilliant woman and her brother was Philip Sidney – a poet whose name I knew but am now getting to know his work…

Philip Sidney The Major Works

Poetry reading, poet readings

Poet friend Judith very kindly sent me a copy of Mary Jean Chan’s Flèche (Faber)which I’m looking forward to reading, and I also have a copy of Jackie Kay’s Darling (New & Selected)(Bloodaxe), a collection I’ve been itching to read for some time. And I’m hoping to get hold of Charlotte Gann’s new collection, The Girl Who Cried (Happenstance), for which there’s going to be an online launch on May 21st.

Fleche by Mary Jean Chan

Couple of comps to mention

Yes I know, I’ve sworn off entering single-poem comps for this year, but perhaps I can do my bit for mags and organisers by promoting them.

The Frogmore Poetry Competition, judged by Maria Jastrzębska is closing soon, on 31st May – enter here.

The Bridport Prize closes 31st May – poetry judge is Mimi Khalvati.

Live Canon Collection Competition, deadline May 25th – lots of winning chances here, do take a look.

Not poetry, but…writer friend Danielle Sensier has asked me to mention the Chalk Circle Short Story Competition which is now open until 31st August, judged by Vanessa Gebbie

Magazines update

If you’re on my mailing list you should have received an email last week about magazines whose windows are closing soon.

If you didn’t get this and/or would like to be on the list, please join via the webform on my ‘about’ page:

NB I’d be grateful if you would join via the form, as if you ask me to add you I may not see your request or be able to act on it right away – thanks!

I’ll be compiling the next update to my Poetry Magazines Submissions Windows spreadsheet at the end of this month.

That’s it for now – take care.

Tending seedlings & taking comfort from ‘wee granny’

I hope you’re well in body and spirit. If you’re anything like me you’re trying not to overdose on news and focus instead on Spring!

Last week’s Hastings Stanza poetry workshop via Zoom went very well, in fact I was convinced enough to then sign up for a Zoom-hosted writing session with the Sansoms next week. Something in the diary! This last week I’ve been reading rather than writing. A couple of hundred pages through The Mirror and the Light, I’m not as gripped as I was by Wolf Hall. But I’m into it. Meanwhile, Defoe’s A Journal of the Plague Year is compelling in a macabre sort of way – many, many parallels with today, both in how people are reacting to it and in how authorities are trying to deal with it. There’s also some unexpected humour.

A happy distraction at the moment is vegetable growing. I’m going to have more seedlings ready to plant out than we can accommodate, so I’m hoping the neighbours will be happy to have a courgette or two in the communal garden. Failing that I could offer them to other houses in the street, although I know many of them have communal gardens managed by agents. Maybe I should put them on a ‘help yourself’ table on the pavement outside. Although people aren’t out for strolls that much at the moment of course.

courgette and nasturtium seedlings

I’ve been keeping a ‘lockdown’ journal, just for my own interest and to remind myself (hopefully in years to come!) how we (hopefully!) got through it. Reading other people’s blogs I get the feeling the initial euphoria of it all has flattened out to more a sense of restlessness or powerlessness, even sadness. I know ‘euphoria’ sounds wrong, but I mean that initial excitement in terms of ‘it’s really happening’ and ‘no-one in the world knows how this is going to go’ and ‘we’re all (kind of) in it together’, plus getting used to all the changes and rising to the occasion. As Mat Riches says in his recent post, “apparently, we’re meant to be using this time to learn Sumerian or how to perform brain surgery and recreate Citizen Kane in stop motion using only Lego minifigs or repurposed Barbie Dolls” – but for many people it’s enough to get through the day and not worry about the family they’re not seeing or the business they’re losing.

Although I’m also fighting a creeping sense of sadness, I’ve so much to feel grateful for. Last Thursday was our youngest granddaughter’s 2nd birthday. I had fun making a card telling a story in which we all played parts, and with WhatsApp we were able to share the candle-blowing-out/cake cutting. Regular runs out with Nick make me feel that my body isn’t atrophying. The sun’s been shining and there’s beautiful scenery where I live. I watched the Queen’s message on TV last night and was strangely moved. What she’s been through. I’ve never considered myself a raging royalist but I have the upmost respect for her and I found her words comforting. In the same vein, the little video of a Scottish ‘wee granny’ that popped into my Twitter stream midweek was (and still is) a highlight for me. Do watch it if you haven’t already, you will feel better afterwards.

For once I’m actually grateful to be subscribed to so many newsletters, as companies and organisations are making great efforts to reach out to customers with new services, suggestions or just moral support. I’m not saying I’ve taken them all up, but sometimes just reading them helps. Here are some I’ve been impressed by:

On my desk I have a list of people I want to keep in touch with and am thinking along the lines of something in the post. Not that I want to overload our valuable posties. But I just feel there can be something very warm about a letter or a card, perhaps hand-made, with a person in mind. More personal than an email, less stressful than a phone call. For many of these people I only have postal addresses anyway. Another project!