Tuesday 24 February 2015

The Railway Children at the Kings Cross Theatre


A Christmas present to my granddaughter: tickets for The Railway Children at the purpose built Kings Cross Theatre. Her mother and father joined us for a cold February Sunday matinee. The arrangement of the stage (or rather platforms) meant we were closer to the actors (and the steam train) than anywhere I can remember.

I had also given H the book for Christmas, and she had really enjoyed it. So she knew the story backwards. The acting was occasionally over the top, but I guess that was great for the children in the audience. I thought it seemed a little amateurish at times, but then there were moments of surprisingly huge emotional impact. Overall, very enjoyable.


After the show, we were being treated to tea at the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel. It rained heavily and blustery all the way from the theatre to the hotel so we arrived pretty wet. After stowing coats at the cloakroom, we were shown to our seats in the vast lobby that doubles as a lounge.



Our table was at the far end with the added benefit of a brilliant lady harp player close by.


And of course the tea was amazing.


Wednesday 18 February 2015

To Rise Again At A Decent Hour, The Night Circus and The Whole Story and other stories


The premise seemed interesting, a New York dentist and devoted Red Sox fan has his identity stolen. To Rise Again At A Decent Hour by Joshua Ferris was also shortlisted for the Man Booker prize, so I had high hopes. Unfortunately these were dashed by the interminable forays into discussions about religion, sometimes three or four pages without a paragraph. I guess there was some cleverness here, and the odd joke, but that didn't make up for the long boring sections that eventually I had to skip over. The online identity theft was OK but the plot was only there in bits and pieces. In among the garbage there is some good stuff hidden in plain sight. This type of book is highly literate and may be fine for Man Booker prize judges, but not for me.

PS Cubs fans please skip the last couple of pages.


I normally steer clear of historical fantasy fiction, and if I had known the true background of this book I would not have read it. Especially as it is a one trick pony: a magical circus set up as the venue for a challenge. So there are lots of repetitive descriptions of a circus which is very unlike those we are used to. But just before halfway, the book did take on a different, more emotional feel as two new and more interesting characters appear.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern is far too long for one that has so little plot, if the five hundred pages had been cut by a half or even a third, this might have been so much more satisfying. However, the writing is good enough that it flows well and it carries a certain spell on the reader. There was just enough to keep me interested in what happens next. And then was something on the penultimate page which made me gasp, part of a literary device that is suddenly explained. If only we had had more like that.


In 2003, this was Ali Smith at her most experimental. Two years before this she wrote the Booker shortlisted  Hotel World" which I thought was very good. But here her collection of short stories The Whole Story and other stories were mainly too bizarre for my taste. But there is one marvelous exception. "Paradise" is the longest story by far and is actually three stories in one, each probably about one of three sisters, although the last one doesn't have a name so we cant be sure.

However some of the other stories are too fantastical, although no one will ever forget the bagpipers who follow one of the characters around wherever they go. I guess it was meant to be funny, but it wasn't. All the stories have such a different tone from one another which is interesting. As a big Ali Smith fan, I had to read this collection, but unless you are, I would give it a miss, except that is for "Paradise". I added one star for this alone.

Wednesday 11 February 2015

A Most Violent Year, Ex Machina and Kingsman: The Secret Service


A movie about the oil business in a statistically notorious winter of 1981 did not seem entirely promising. But with writer and director J C Chandor at the helm (his Margin Call was my favourite film of the year it was released) I could not resist A Most Violent Year. I'm all for original stories, so many these days are adaptations, but I thought this time it couldn't decide what it wanted to be. A relationship drama with thrills and violence added in. Jessica Chastain was excellent as the wife of Oscar Isaac's business man, her unscrupulous, simmering, explosive nature only just being held in check. Completely opposite to her moral husband. The film was well written, as you would expect, with competent direction. It was just slightly disappointingly boring.


Now Ex Machina was never boring. In fact this was one of the best movies I have seen for a long time. This was pure theatre with added special effects. And they were special. Written and directed by Alex Garland, this was a smart essentially three-hander that turned into a spectacular sci-fi thriller. Domnhall Gleeson wins the prize to visit mega tech boss Oscar Isaac in his secluded ultra modern hideaway. There he finds he is enlisted to communicate with Alicia Vikander's beautiful robot. Her voice reminded me of Scarlett Johansson's in Her. But she is a startling creation even though there is menace in her eyes. A brilliant movie. Thanks Alex.


Kingsman is a spoof of all the spy movies you can think of. Not very intelligent and not at all funny. But it had plenty of action, it looked good and was sort of playful. I would have loved it fifty years ago.

Tuesday 10 February 2015

My Life In Books - The Early Years


I have taken the title from the BBC series called "My Life In Books" where various celebrities choose their favourites from childhood to present day. I'm starting with a few that I can remember enjoying all those years ago. Some have remained classics to this day.

Mum and Dad used to read to us a lot as children, and when we were old enough to read ourselves, we were encouraged to have books that were well written. So Enid Blyton stories were never allowed. Of all the books I read as a child, Wind In The Willows is definitely I would choose as my favourite.


I guess my mother thought Arthur Ransome was a good writer, but I found Swallows and Amazons and many of his other books a little dry.


Much more entertaining was Just William by Richmal Crompton. I'm sure I didn't read all thirty nine in the series.


One of the best things about Christmas Day, when I was a boy, was getting an Eagle Annual as a present. I can remember disappearing behind the sofa to read the latest adventures of the characters from the comic that came every week.


I must have read most of the Biggles books by Capt. W E Johns. 


The only prize I ever won at school was The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff. I can't remember what I won it for. I would have preferred a Biggles.


Wednesday 4 February 2015

Five Years of Tring Book Club

The first meeting of Tring Book Club that I attended was in February 2010. I think it may have started a week earlier at Tring School. I listed all the books we had read so far in my posting of 4th January 2014 so this list brings that up to date. That makes 60 books in five years. And we are still going strong, now at The Bell, Aston Clinton.

Waterland by Graham Swift
A Long Walk Home by Judith Tebbutt

Life After Life by Kate Atkinson
Harvest by Jim Crace

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Shock of the Fall by Nathan Filer

Jamrach’s Menagerie by Carol Birch
Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett
Offshore by Penelope Fitzgerald

All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque (and other FWW novels).

When I Lived in Modern Times by Linda Grant

The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood


The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton

The jobs I had whilst at school

The main job I had whilst at school was a paper round. This was in my last two years at school in Braintree, that is from 1961 to 1963 every day from Monday to Saturday,  and collecting the money on a late Friday afternoon (the best bit as I got the occasional tip).  The winter of 1962/3 was the coldest of the twentieth century and I bore everybody to death with my story that I never missed a delivery. How I managed to get around on my bike on the icy roads, I have no idea, but I never came off once (not like four weeks ago). At that age you must never feel the cold .

There was one year (December 1961) when the boys in the first year sixth were invited to help the Post Office with the Christmas post. So we were given release from lessons to do a morning shift. I can remember the bags they gave us were really heavy, the weather was freezing so your hands did become very cold. But we were paid and that was important. There was a coffee bar in town and we all used to meet there after our rounds, have a hot drink and listen to Lonnie on the jukebox. Those were the days.

Apart from helping Dad in his shop at odd times during the holidays, the other job I had was working for a vet. This was only for a short while, one early evening a week mainly doing admin stuff at his office. I suppose it all helped when I came to apply to George Wimpey for my first full time job.

Tuesday 3 February 2015

Tring Book Club - The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton



In Amsterdam it's 1686 and a powerful family drama unfolds as young Nella marries Johannes, an older merchant. Their house is next to the Herengracht, one of the nicest canals. The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton has lots of atmosphere, dark secrets, mystery, and many surprises. An enigmatic Miniaturist who is ......well that would spoil the story. Occasionally this all becomes a little too unbelievable, but if you suspend your disbelief, a wonderful story unfolds. The writing is sometimes a little strange, as if the author is searching too far for a description. In the end there are too many things that are unresolved, are we in for a sequel? But the last half is riveting so overall a worthwhile read.