Mary Shelley

Shared Experience are a touring theatre company that gets better and better. They started in 1998 and are driven by their two artistic directors, Polly Teale and Nancy Meckler. I first came across them last year when Bronte came to the Oxford Playhouse, written by Polly and directed by Nancy. Their production of a new play, Mary Shelley, is by Helen Edmundson who had already written five adaptations for the company, and directed by Polly Teale.

I had some reservations about the length of the play, nearly three hours including an interval. But it needed every minute to show the complex relationships between Mary (daughter of the feminist Mary Wollstonecraft who died after Mary was born), her father (the radical political philosopher William Godwin), his wife and Mary's stepmother, her daughter Jane and Fanny, daughter of Mary Wollstonecraft from an earlier marriage. Add into the mix the young poet Percy Shelley, and I was very glad to have had the time before the performance started to study the family trees in the programme.

Mary is sixteen as the play begins, already highly educated and indoctrinated by the views of her father. But it is not long before the already married Percy Shelley, a follower of William Godwin, becomes infatuated by Mary and they elope to France with Jane. There is turmoil at the family home in Skinner Street, not least because Godwin has always had big problems with debt, and we are  constantly reminded of how this effected the family in 1814. But it is the hurt that Mary experiences when her father refuses to ever see her again that is the catylst for her writing Frankenstein at the age of eighteen.

The best thing about this play is the dialogue. Helen Edmundson is an exceptional writer, and that is why I preferred this play to Bronte. The acting is sublime throughout, and the four young members of the cast are terrific. Kristin Atherton is very good as Mary, but I thought that Shannon Tarbet was even better as Jane. William Chubb as Godwin and Sadie Shimmin as his wife are very experienced actors and it showed. The direction by Polly Teale is spot on. The play never wavers from being totally absorbing. And a packed Oxford Playhouse loved it.

Dark Shadows, Man On A Ledge and Moonrise Kingdom

When you have the combination of director Tim Burton and lead actor Johnny Depp playing a 200 year old vampire resurrected in 1972,  you have to expect something out of the ordinary. And that is what you get. Unfortunately the story of Dark Shadows is pretty weak and Burton's regular cast ham it up to no great effect. There is great attention to detail in the sets, costumes. music, lighting etc. Shame the same cannot be said for the script.

Why do the critics get all huffy about a decent thriller, when there are so few around. OK, the concept of Man On A Ledge is pretty preposterous, and the screenplay does it no favours, but it has pace, wit and thrills and I found the whole thing enjoyable. There is never too much of the scenes on the ledge, although Sam Worthington is rarely convincing that he will take the fall. Jamie Bell and his girlfriend Genesis Rodriguez interact well in undertaking the heist, and Edd Harris and Elizabeth Banks are always watchable. First time director Asger Leth ramps up the action, although he doesn't manage to produce too much tension out on the ledge itself. Three months after it's original release, and not originally shown at the Aylesbury Odeon, I was very glad it turned up on Senior Screen. Good value at £3.50.

First and foremost, Moonrise Kingdom is a Wes Anderson movie. I have to say I found his The Royal Tenenbaums and A Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou pretty odd, but they had their moments. His latest offering is still a bit odd, but there is enough story and action to hold the thing together. And the cast are something else. It is set in 1965 on the fictional island of New Penzance, few inhabitants, no roads, the mail come is by seaplane and a ferry a day. So what are hotshot lawyers Bill Murray and Frances McDormand doing there, and when do they go to the office? We never find out because that is not the story. It is about their daughter Suzy (Kara Hayward) and orphan Sam (Jared Gilman). They are both twelve (Kara looks older but isn't) and outsiders, and run away together, although the island is hardly big enough to escape. The two young leads are terrific as is Edward Norton as Sam's scout leader who organises the first search. The grown ups are all dysfunctional. Suzy's parents, Bruce Willis as the local plod and even Harvey Keitel and Tilda Swinton put in an appearance late on. There is one fantastic scene between Bruce Willis and Bill Murray in Bruce's police car that is so good, it is a huge shame this is the only times they are alone together. The dialogue is typical Wes Anderson (written with Roman Copolla, a second unit director on previous Anderson movies), and it is delivered with that almost awkward monotone that borders on the uncomfortable. But the wit and human feelings shine through. A lovely, cute movie.

Three Days in Bruges

Two full days and two half days to be precise. We started off on Wednesday,being dropped off at Stoke Mandeville station by a neighbour, to catch the train to Marylebone. Then by Underground to St Pancras for breakfast before catching the Eurostar to Brussels. From there it is just under an hour by local train to Bruges. The bus station is next door to where the trains arrive, for the short journey across town to our hotel. The Ter Duinen Hotel is situated on one of the canals, ten minutes walk north of the centre.

We still had most of the afternoon to start exploring, and we headed as most people do, for the Markt. On the way, before we reached the busy centre, we found a lovely quiet cafe called Servass Van Mullem, so we stopped for a coffee and fabulous cake, really more like a desert.

When we reached Markt, the square was filled with banks of seating for an event the following day. So views of the famous Belfry were partly obscured.

We walked around the Markt in beautiful sunshine, so we took the opportunity to take lots of photos.

On the way back to the hotel to have a rest, we found Trattoria Trium, an Italian restaurant that our guide book recommended, so we booked a table for that evening. We had a superb pasta and I had a nice Belgium beer. It was still light when we came out, so it was nice to wander around in the dusk.

We took a picture of the cafe Servaas van Mullem (closed for the evening) that we knew we would visit again.

Burg square was just wonderful in the fading light with few people around.

Thursday morning started sunny but chilly. We decided that we would try to beat the queues for a boat trip around the canals. We were able to follow waterways all the way from our hotel.

There was boat only half full waiting to leave, so we jumped on board and we were off round the canals.

For the rest of the morning we wandered down to Minnewater and lingered on the bridge overlooking the canalised lake called the Lake of Love.

We sat in the park before looking round the hushed area of the convent complex of  Beginhof.

We had a late lunch of Frites on Simon Stevin square before finding a good spot to watch the Ascension Day event called The Procession of the Holy Blood. There were huge crowds on all the streets, most of whom were on those banks of seats on Markt, or on rows of seats along each road. We stood behind two rows on Steenstraas and had a fantastic view. It is a huge procession including bands, horses and two lots of sheep! It was much better than we had imagined.

The only trouble was, we were standing on the wrong side of the road to make our getaway near the end. We were actually in the middle of all the roads round which the procession wound. It was after some time, we found a break in the seats and made a dash across and find a detour round the canals to take us back to the hotel.

That evening we had a good dinner at one of the many cafes that overlook Markt. I had a Belgium beer called Kwak that at E9.50 is a rip off, even if it does come in a fancy glass and wooden holder. Mine was taller and thinner than this one.

After the cloud of the previous day, Friday started sunny. We headed for the Belfry on Markt as I was going to take the 366 steps to the top. Although we were there quite early, there was a queue. There are only 70 people allowed up the Belfry at any one time, although I thought there were a lot less than that. So after a wait of 50 minutes I finally made my way to the top. Alison had gone off for a wander on her own. It did not seen as high from the top as other towers I have visited. But then you do get a closer look at the surroundings. And in the sunshine there were some good views.

We met at midday and it was nice to have a drink at the previous night's cafe on Markt. Cloud had arrived again, so we went inside the Church of Our Lady.

We were also going to go in the Cathedral, but as it was closed at lunchtime, we went off for lunch at Servaas Van Mullem. The cakes this time were a Delice and a Mocha.

In the afternoon we did go in Saint Saviours Cathedral, and it was pretty impressive, particularly the treasury full of pictures and artefacts (I had found a free guide to them all which was lucky) and the tapestries.

I had printed off four walking tours of Bruges before we left, so in the late afternoon we wandered into a quiet part of the town, having first bought nougat and truffles at the Chocolate Crown. Our walk took us past canals and then to some pretty houses and the church on Jeruzalem.

Dinner that evening was at an Argentine steak house called El Churrasco. My steak was the best I have had for years. And the Belgium Jupiler beer was excellent. We finished the evening with a desert from the van on Simon Stevin square. We had Churros which is a waffle stick freshly deep fried and sprinkled with sugar. Very tasty.

We just had the morning in Bruges on Saturday. We walked to the other side of the canal from the hotel, and then followed another canal that branches off at the end of Langerei. This was a lovely walk in the sunshine, passing many nice bridges.

We left the canal at St Jakobstraas and passed the church of the same name.

We revisited our favourite places, including Minnewater and Beginhof, before the important final  job of buying chocolates. There are apparently 49 chocolate shops in Bruges, and I think Alison must have been in every one.

We had planned that lunch would be at our favourite cafe, Servaas Van Mullem. We had a tasty quiche and salad, and bought cakes to take home. It was then time to pick up our bags at the hotel and start off on our way home. We had been very lucky with the weather. Most of the time it had been very cool, except the warm sun of Friday morning. But it had kept dry the whole time, except for some extremely light drizzle for half an hour that day. The travel arrangements all went like clockwork, and Eurostar was very efficient. An excellent short break.

Tring Book Club - Mr Phillips and Pure

We seemed to have chosen to read Mr Phillips by John Lanchester by accident. At the last meeting I had mentioned the new book by the same author called Capital that had received great reviews, and that I had brought one of his earlier novels. Everyone thought that a short book about one day in the life of a man who had just lost his job but could not tell his family, sounded quite interesting. In the event it was a strange story, mainly because the main character was a fairly sordid character and a bit of a pervert. I was not looking forward to what the ladies of the book club might say. In the end they felt a bit like me. The writing seemed a little old fashioned  and ended up just a series of (mis)adventures. I guess it was supposed to be funny, but although there are a few comic situations, it just felt ordinary. The comment that "Banks are just casinos" is an interesting prediction given that the book was written in 2000. Mr Phillips does visit the Tate Gallery and this sounds an interesting place to visit, now Tate Britain. The second half of the book is a lot better and the unexpected redemption of Phillips at the end saves the day.

I normally avoid historical novels, but Pure by Andrew Miller had won the 2011 Costa Book of the Year, so when it was chosen, I thought it might be good. Little did I expect to find a novel as good as anything I have read over the last few years. It follows the story of a young engineer Jean-Baptsite Barrate as, in 1785, he is engaged by the minister to clear the overflowing and rancid cemetery of les Innocents in the heart of Paris. The book's descriptions of the locality give a tremendous atmosphere and you are transported to the time and place with the detail of your surroundings. The characters are brilliantly formed, I liked the way that after sixty odd pages of their introduction, the story visits each of them as they retire for the night, a round up of who's who so we know they are part of what happens next. The only slight criticism is the foreign sounding names, places streets and occupations that leave one a little bewildered. But this is a vivid portrayal of eighteenth century Paris on the cusp of revolution, a truly wonderful book.
SPOILER ALERT
After I read Pure, I googled les Innocents by chance, and whereas I had read the story as a complete work of fiction, I found that the cemetery actually existed and did have to be cleared. There are pictures of the old cemetery and church before and after clearance, and the area is now a square called Place Joachimdu Bellay. Amazing.

Manchester City Win the Premier League

What a day! Not only was it the Marlow 5 Mile in the morning, followed by a well deserved coffee and cake at the John Lewis at High Wycombe ( and Alison having been to London the day before and sung Mozart's Requiem at the Royal Albert Hall) but the afternoon saw the final games of the Premier League.

It should have been all so confortable for Manchester City, playing at home with the best home record in the league against QPR with the worst record away from home. And when we scored the first goal, it seemed it would be nice and easy. But of course, this is not the City way. Conceeding two stupid goals in the second half ( Manchester United and Newcastle had not scored a solitary goal against us in the previous two games) it was all too deflating, as were the balloons outside.

As we passed the 90 minutes and entering time added mainly for the sending off of QPR's Joey Barton (my prediction came true) it seemed all was lost. That was until Dzeco scored for the last of the countless corners. The last minute arrived and linking with Balotelli, Aguero scored a brilliant winner. Cue celebrations that were as joyous in this house as they were on the pitch.

For me, I have to agree with Hugh McIlvaney in the Sunday Times a week ago, that City turned into a team that could win things when they signed Yaya Toure nearly two years ago. The article below appeared before the penultimate game of the season with City away at Newcastle. It could not have been more prophetic as Toure scored both goals in the win that set up yesterday's achievement.

City fans who have been through it all over the last 44 years since they last celebrated a league title. Alison and I vividly remeber standing with them behind the goal at Oxford United in the third tier of English football. Who will forget the very late Paul Dickov goal to take the play off for that divison in 1999 into extra time and penalties. The relegations, the promotions and now the Premier League title.

What a day!

The Grant and Stone Marlow 5

The Marlow 5 Mile was my first proper race since I started running almost exactly three months ago. It all seemed like a good idea, having run the same distance a couple of weeks ago. But come the  hour before the race, I was in a very poor place despite it being a beautiful morning. I had to stop after only a few yards jogging to warm up. I couldn't make any conversation when meeting Alison's running friend Alice. And my stomach was doing cartwheels. Being in a solid mass of runners at the start did not help. But as we got under way, everything changed. Alison was pacing me round and I just concentrated on keeping up.

The first mile went OK, mainly making sure not to trip over other runners. Alison set a really good pace and I was feeling more and more comfortable. Halfway round I knew it was all going to be fine, especially when we reached a slight gradient downhill. The last mile was brilliant, lots of people on the pavements cheering, and in no time we were at the gates of Higginson Park with the finish in sight.

As soon as we finished I knew it must be a reasonable time as my legs were objecting. The only disappointment was not seeing the clock as we went over the line, and I had to wait until Alison checked her Garmin to tell me we had done it in 46 minutes 51 seconds, well inside the target of just under 50 minutes, so I was really pleased. The pace worked out to 9 minutes 22 seconds per mile, much much faster than any training run.

When we checked the race results later in the day, I was 17th out of the 34 in the male 60 - 69 age group, and 13th when adjusted for my exact age. So very pleased for a first race, and having only been running for a short while. Thanks to Alison for getting me round in the time, there is no way I would have achieved that without her being a fine pacer.

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Avengers Assemble 3D and Silent House

Not difficult to guess which one of these three very different movies was my favourite by far. The story may be pretty preposterous, but Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is such a sweet movie. And it is extremely well written by Simon Beaufoy of The Full Monty and Slumdog Millionaire fame. The cast is fabulous, Ewan McGregor and Emily Blunt obviously love their parts, and the whole film is elevated by a stunningly comic performance from Kristin Scott Thomas. Lasse Halstrom does not have a lot to do but point the camera at some terrific locations. OK, It is all pretty bizare, but if you just suspend reality for a couple of hours, this is a pure joy.

I was , as usual, in two minds about whether to go to see another comic book movie. But the reviews were so unanimously good, that I could hardly avoid Avengers Assemble. And as usual, I found the action scenes all pretty tedious. But I have to say there are some reasonable scenes when we actually have some dialogue. And this is thanks to Joss Whedon who co-wrote and directed (see posting on Cabin in the Woods). This is one director to watch.

What can I say about Silent House. Technically a tour de force for us movie fans, as directors Chris Kentis and Laura Lau follow their tense thriller Open Water with another original idea, this time a film done in one take with one camera. Actually there were a couple of opportunities for cuts, so a slight cop out here. But what we have is a missed opportunity for something that could have been great. Instead we have a story that made absolutely no sense. Now I don't mind something surreal that keeps you guessing (think Shutter Island) but this time it seems the directors are just laughing at the audience when we finally find out what it was all about. Elizabeth Olsen is superb, though the repetitiveness of her reactions to danger do wear a bit thin. But this is not her fault. As she creeps around the dark, shuttered house you just want to scream "open a window and let some bloody light in".

The Balloons Are Out Again

After the balloons helped in last years FA Cup Final success, they are out again in anticipation of Manchester City winning the Premier League on Sunday. Knowing the old City, it will all end in unexpected failure. But this is not the old City. We hope.

Bluebell Walks in Wendover Woods and Pavis Wood

One of the best walks to see bluebells is a circular route that starts at the car park at the top of Wendover Woods, and it is where I went on Saturday. The bluebells cover a large area on the way to the top of Aston Hill. The walk then goes past the mountain bike section of the woods before heading down Aston Hill itself. Across the fields and then the long drag up to the top of Pavis Wood. It is here that there actually footpaths created through the bluebells.

The route then picks up The Ridgeway and follows this back to the start. About 5 miles in all, a great morning's walk. The beech trees are just coming into leaf, the younger trees are all out, but some of the older ones still just have buds.

On Sunday I did my normal walk from Wendover and up Ridgeway coming into Wendover Woods the other way. On the path through the woods on the steady climb up, the bluebells were a narrow strip that followed the path to the top. But after crossing the road at the top, there is another area bluebells that is always superb.

Back on Track in Muddy May

After my unfortunate calf strain, I'm back running again. I have stuck to pavements over the last couple of weeks as the canal tow paths have been too muddy due to the April deluge. In the end I ordered some trail running shoes and on Friday I ran with Alison along the canal for 5.2 miles. So my new shoes are now on their way to be as dirty as my wife's.

My Performance at Basketball

It was ages ago that I wrote about how I did at football and cricket. How I became involved in basketball was all down to a new sports teacher who arrived at Braintree County High School just as I was starting sixth form. His main interest just happened to be basketball, so why he would join a school with so few boys and a tiny gym, I have no idea. There were only about twenty boys in my year, so anyone interested in joining a basketball team would get a place with no problem. I guess the first year was all about learning the game as I can only remember what happened in my final year at school.

The main disadvantage of joining the team was having to do circuit training. We had individual programmes to suit our ability, but it still meant sit-ups with a medicine ball pulled up behind your neck and bench presses from benches hung down from the wallbars. At least it did get us fit. One of earliest games on a full size court was at the American airbase at RAF Wethersfield. Some of the Americans there did give us some sort of competition, but we all found it exhausting. We did play the occasional game against another school, but none of these were very successful. Even more humiliating were the All Essex School Championships. Playing teams from the outer London boroughs of Ilford, Romford etc was totally out of our league.

After all the school exams were over, in the summer of of our last term, the school had an open day. It was decided that we would play an exhibition match outside on a full size court between the arts and sciences. I started for arts, and brother John for sciences. It drew a pretty decent crowd, so we were all trying to impress. It was only a minute into the game when I scored the first basket. It was downhill all the way from there, but at least I had my few seconds of fame.

The only time I played again was when I was at Brighton CAT. The college only played occasional games, and I can only remember a couple. I think we played a girls college at Eastbourne and probably lost.

Edith Haywood Hoyland

Both called Edith, but they could not have been more different. My two grandmothers were from very different backgrounds. I have already posted an article about Mum's mother (Nanan to us boys)on 4th February 2011 and about when we stayed with her as children, posted on 9th February this year. My father's mother, Edith Haywood Roberts (maiden name Hoyland and known as Gran to my brothers and I) came from a wealthy family. She was born on 21st January 1892 at Ball Road, Hillsbrough, Sheffield (actually in the Parish of Ecclesfield).

Her mother was Louisa Maria Hoyland, formerly Brooks. Her father Charles Haywood Hoyland inherited the prosperous brush manufacturing business from his father (see posting 23-02-09). At the 1911 Census, when she was 19, Edith was living with her parents on Busheywood Road, Dore. All her brothers and sister were all staying with their Aunt Kate in Wimbledon because there was a medical problem at home. There were two nurses staying at the house at Busheywood Road. Aunt Molly remembered Edith's mother (Louise Maria Brooks before she married Charles) as being a lovely gentle lady.

Edith married Stanley Boyd Roberts on 2nd July 1913 in Christ Church, Dore.
Stanley and Edith lived at Baulby on Busheywood Road when Dad was born there in 1917. But which was it of the many properties on this street that was owned, but mortgaged, by Edith's father Charles Haywood Hoyland? This will be the subject of some more research and a detailed posting at a later date.

Stanley was a solicitor whose grandfather, John Shearwood Roberts had become rich in property. But all the wealth was frittered away to the point where they could no longer afford the private education for their second and third sons. And when you take into account the business and other income inherited by Edith's father, and that the spinster great aunts of Dad (Kate and Isobel Hoyland) left everything to Edith when they died) I am starting to understand why Dad maintained his parents had lost more than one fortune.

I never knew Stanley, but Edith was apparently a complete snob and liked to think of herself as very much middle class. I think she must have been quite disappointed when Mum became her daughter in law. According to Auntie Molly, she referred to Mum as NQOC (not quite our class). When we were young, we would occasionally visit Gran at her large house at 88 Ashdell Road, Broomhill in Sheffield.

The house felt quite intimidating, and John and I had to be on our best behaviour. We could play in the garden under supervision. There was a big old grandfather clock standing in the hall, and I have a hazy memory of an attic. I can remember we would go there for tea, sandwiches and cakes that would appear on an old fashioned cake stand. I guess this was all while we lived in Dore, when I was five and John four. Because when we moved to Alton in Staffordshire, I cannot remember ever going there again.

Gran usually gave me a book for Christmas. I have a treasured copy of The Wind in the Willows that she gave me for my 5th birthday and Just So Stories a year later.

Gran must have lived on her own at Broomfield Road from when her husband Stanley died in 1937 to when she died alone just before 27th May 1965. Neighbours alerted the police when milk bottles appeared uncollected outside. She is recorded in the burial records for Christ Church, Dore for 11th June 1965 when her ashes were deposited there. Auntie Molly remembered only the brothers attending the funeral, but later they joined Molly,  Mum and Auntie Joy and Janet, the second wife of Dad's brother Arthur, at the Grand Hotel. Aunty Joy said the women all had lunch there while the brothers went off to the funeral. I guess that was the last time all the brothers and their wives got together.

In her will, Edith left £2000 to her sons John, Peter and James. She had excluded her son Arthur from this bequest, but the other three made up his contribution. Edith would not have been impressed. She also left £200 to each grandchild when they reached the age of 21. I was the only one to have done so at this time, and the money went towards my first car, see posting 31st March 2010.

After some other bequests, the remainder of the estate went to the four brothers. The net value was £26,781 which attracted estate duty of £4536. On today's values, each of her sons would have received about £75,000. But it was quite complicated with most of the property which she owned the freehold being on long leases and not worth very much. Dad did receive dribs and drabs over the following years. But I will always be grateful for the money she left to me (£200), and my first set of wheels. The two year old Triumph Herald Convertible.

So my two grandmothers: holidays with Nanan and bags of chips eaten on the way back from the chippie and Gran with tea and cakes on a stand. Now which do you think I preferred.

P.S. There is a final paragraph that I had considered omitting. It recounts a conversation I had with Auntie Molly in 1999. She told me things about Edith that Dad would never have mentioned. She said that Edith was an amoral person and would even tell fibs, just to keep up appearances. (Was that where the story about our family being descendants of Captain Cook came from? As there is no truth in it.) Edith apparently spent all the money she had. Stanley, her husband, was very musical and they used to host musical evenings. Do we believe Edith when she said that even Sir Henry Wood came to visit? Molly said that Edith was the worst kind of snob, everything was about her and she did nothing for or with the children. She never spoke to Stanley's father, Vincent Littlewood Roberts. He could not stand her, but loved her three boys. John ended up seeing Vincent secretly. It may have been John's grandfather that enabled him to go to Oxford University.

The Will of Vincent Littlewood Roberts.
Vincent only had one child and that was Stanley, and when Vincent died in 1940, apart from some particular bequests, he left £500 and the remainder of his estate (which amounted to a gross value of £21,760, worth approximately £1Million today) to his four grandsons, cutting out Edith altogether. According to Molly, Edith was very angry and threatened to contest the will. However, I understand that in the end, the boys were "encouraged" (Molly's words) into giving the money to their mother.