Back home

Back home from France and back into life here again, its time to catch up with some of my recent reading.
Jude Morgan's A Taste of Sorrow (review here) was a moving and for me exciting read. I found the story of the early life of the Bronte children sympathetically but clearly described, and although a work of fiction, obviously based on a detailed research. The story begins with the death of Maria Bronte, mother of six children, a horrifying event, and then the running of the household by her sister, known as Aunt Branwell. The atmosphere of Haworth is well-described, with the rather bleak interior of the house almost echoed by the equal bleakness of the moors outside, and the hard working life of the village with its farming and wool production included in that harshness.
The school as portrayed in Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre was based on one to which the Bronte daughters were sent. Set up for the daughters of clergymen, but the conditions were poor, with inadequate food and heating, especially considering the hard winters of the Victorian period. The two eldest daughters of Patrick Bronte both died young, of consumption, as it was called, or tuberculosis as we now call it, a disease which was eventually to affect the whole family apart from Patrick Bronte himself. The descriptions of how this happened were certainly the most sorrowful aspects of this book, despite the increasing success of Anne, Emily and Charlotte;s writings. All were successful published novelists at a time when more and more people were searching for good, intelligent reading matter.

Roma Tearne's Brixton Beach was actually acquired at an author talk some time ago, but languished on a shelf until now. What a lovely read this was, despite the theme of violence which runs throughout the story. Although this was one of those books I kept putting down then picking up again, a slower, gentler read perhaps reflecting the characters of Alice and her mother Sita. Set in Sri Lanka and describing the build up of tension between the Tamils and Singhalese communities, eventually leading to a civil war  (which has only very recently ended). The possible repercussions of being a part of the British Empire are also one of the major themes of this novel. Alice is the daughter of Sita, a Singhalese woman and Stanley, who is Tamil. Alice is partly brought up by her grandparents, Sita's mother and father. Eventually the situation between Tamil and Singhalese becomes so difficult  for Sita and Stanley that they leave Sri Lanka and settle in London. Alice grows up there, and becomes an artist and sculptor, following childhood inclinations. Alice marries an Englishman, Timothy, but her marriage is no more successful than her parents was. However Alice has become a more complex and resourceful character than her gentle, retiring mother was, and suvives and develops on her own. A more complex book than it first appears and an intriguing read.

Boo Ritson

Last week I went to the preview of an exhibition of some of Boo Ritson's work, called D is for Donut at Southampton City Art gallery , which for me is a short bus-ride away. The work is interesting, being  photographs of people painted in vey thick paint and then photographed  as representing s particular aspect of American life. The effect is colourful, but slightly eerie - are you looking at a real person or object or a portrait of one? Fascinating. The exhibition also includes a selection made by Boo Ritson from Southampton Art Gallery's collection, which focuses on twentieth century art. There is a brief comment by Boo Ritson, explaining why the particular work chosen resonated with her. Well worth a visit

Andrea Levy's The Long Song (interview here) was a return to the tropics for me, where I spent my early child.hood, although on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from the setting of this story. The descriptions of the heat of the Caribbean, the red earth and the lushness of the vegetation all made me recall memories from long ago. However this book is not primarily about the tropics as such, it is a story of people, and two main characters at that, July and Caroline. July is in fact the narrator of the story, with an introduction and encouragement by her son Thomas and the story opens with differing accounts of her birth. Our Book Club discussed this recently and opinions were very mixed. We all loved the sheer quality of Andre Levy's writing, but for several members of the group, the horrors of slavery and its effects on both slaves and their owners were difficult themes to read about. Having read Andrea Levy's reasons for writing this book here, I found the descriptions of the daily life on the plantation both moving and at times amusing  - the use of a stained bedsheet as tablecloth when entertaining a group of important neighbours, for instance. July's having to give up both her children, for different reasons, was shatteringly sad, but she nevertheless went on to make a life for herself. A wonderful, if at times emotional, read.

Auvergne September

Here in the Auvergne, we have had very varied weather the last week, plenty of sunshine, but also a really vicious storm with very large hailstones on the last day of August, and which brought down mudslides and rockslides, some of them affecting the road. There have also been days when the temperature is well into the upper 20's Centigrade, but despite the heat, there are some signs of the coming autumn, mostly in the subtle changes of colour on the wooded valley sides. Life is calmer now that many of the visitors have returned home, there are fewer out-of-department numberplates on the cars dashing up and down the local roads, and the supermarketsnow shut at midday for their hour and a half or two hour lunchbreak, except on Friday and Saturday. One day last week we drove over to Murat, a pleasant town situated on the side of a hill overlooking the valley of the Alagnon river. The old part has lots of little winding narrow roads, many pedestrianised. there is lots of information (in French)

here and some in English here and here, After a good wander round and a restorative cup of coffee, we headed off to St Flour, visited in one of the stages in the Tour de France in July this year. The upper town with its cathedral and museums, is situated on a small plateau, with a lower town down below by the river. Its an interesting place to wander round, and has many small cafes and restaurents. The view from the ramparts at the east end of the cathedral over the valley below and distant mountains is stunning.

However, despite visits and other doings, such as swimming,general pottering and so on, I have manged to fit in some reading.

Bort-les-Orgues

Last Saturday we went to Bort-les-Orgues, a small town on the upper reaches of the Dordogne river. We pottered around, did a bit of shopping then drove up to les Orgues, which are rock formations which look a bit like organ pipes from below. Thanks to recent rain, the views from the belvedere were stunning, as the air was absolutely clear as could be, and we could see for miles. We usually drive through Bort on our way home, past views of les Orgues and think, well one day we'll go up there. So we finally made it.

Bort-les-Orgues used to have arailway running through it, which carried on to Mauriac and eventually to Aurillac, the main town of the Cantal department. However, in the mid 1940's, the Dordogne was dammed, cutting off the railway route. There were a few pictures in some of the shop windows, showing the valley just before the dam was built.

The dam is an impressive structure, and as well as providing electricity, is used as a place of leisure, with sailing, boat trips and other water sports taking place on it.There is more information about the area

here and here (some of it in French).

French outing

La st week we went on a coach trip with a group of French friends. First we went here, to the PedaloRail at Drignac, only the weathervwasn't very kind to us, as no sooner had one group set off, than a thunderstorm , lightning and heavy rain came down. Our second group were a bit luckier, as the rain stopped for the return journey.
Then we set off for lunch at this hotel, on the banks of the Dordogne river. Lunch was delicious, with an aperitif followed by an hors d'oeuvre of foie gras, an entree of pork stuffed with prunes, cheese from a wonderful selection, a lovely coffe and chestnut dessert and a cup of coffee to finish. A carafe of red wine was on the table for sharing. The dining room is very pretty, with delicate chanderliers and lovely china and glass.
After lunch , we visited this garden and had a guided tour, and a wander round on our own. All was very calm and peaceful, as it is tucked away in the french countryside, with only a very small village, Auriac en Correze, nearbye. Then back to the coach for the trip home, back through the gorges of the Dordogne. The roads are very narrow and wind up and down valleys, sometimes with splendid views, sometimes through shade-giving trees, through which only glimpses of the view can be seen.

Summer in the Auvergne

Back in the Vallee du Mars, in the heart of the Cantal department, the last few days have been exceptionally hot and sunny, too hot to do much work, except read in the shade with a cool drink to hand..

I first read D E Stevenson's Miss Buncle's Book more decades ago than I can remember, along with as many other of her titles as I could lay my hands on ( not too difficult as I then worked in a public library, but some titles were only available in  the large print version) They were easy to read, with interesting characters and plots, a readable style of writing, perfect at the end of a long day dealing with the foibles of the assumably literate public. This title is fairly typical of D E Stevenson's style, with Barbara Buncle, a single woman whose income, derived from dividends, is dwindling rapidly. Barbara discusses various means of raising money and decides to write a book. The subject she chooses is life in a village, which is where she lives. Happily a publisher for the book is quickly found, and the book published, under a pseudonym, to mixed reviews. The reading public fall in love with Copperfield, as the book is titled, and it becomes a best -seller. However, Barbara's fellow villagers have somewhat different views and would like the book withdrawn from publication. The shifts and turns they make to try and find out the name of the author are highly entertaining.

I hadn't read any Dorothy Whipple, until tempted by an offer from Persephone Books of a collection of her short stories ( along with three other titles, including the one mentioned above).I can see why she was a  popular author and still is. Her writing is sensitive yet concise, her characters ordinary people faced with some of the difficulties life throws at us all from time to time, and they all try to do what is right for them as individuals or family. Some of the stories in this collection are almost novella length, while others just a few pages, all have their own individual impact. I'll be looking for more of her tiles, as they are excellent reading.
I first read another title from a similar era, Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway, when I was studying for my Open University degree in the 1970's. What a difference another 35 or so years of living bring to a book, and reading it because I wanted to, not because I had to. I now don't remember if I enjoyed it at the time, but this re-read was very enjoyable.
Clarissa Dalloway, married to Richard a Member of Parliament and mother to Elizabeth, goes through her day, planning for her party to be held in the evening. The lives of her friends and acquaintances, Peter a former lover who wanted to  marry her and has just returned from India; the people Clarissa sees in the park as she walks through, Rezia and Septimus, he a war veteran suffering from what we now call post -traumatic stress and his wife, who he met and married in Italy. There are many other intertwined lives and emotions described, but I think what struck me on this re-read was how fresh it still seemed. The emotions evoked are those felt by almost all human beings and the descriptions of people and places still vivid in my mind, so lucid and elegant is the prose.