Alan Coren: The Gollies Karamazov

If you're of a certain age, you may remember the satirical magazine Punch (1841-2002), even if you only read it in the dentist's waiting room. For me, the highlight was always Alan Coren's column, which invariably had me in stitches.

To commemorate Alan Coren's death a year ago, his son and daughter have just published an anthology of his work, Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks. It was chosen as BBC Radio 4's Book of the Week last week and if you're quick you can listen to the five broadcast extracts here, read by the brilliant John Sessions who does all the voices wonderfully well. So far, I've only managed to hear "Let Us Now Phone Famous Men", and yes, it had me in stitches all over again.

In The Times, there's an example of what Coren did best, in my opinion - the literary parody. This one's called "The Pooh Also Rises". There's also an article about Alan Coren by his son Giles here.

Both Giles and Victoria Coren have, happily, inherited their father's gift of humour. Victoria Coren, a journalist since the age of 14, is probably best known for the TV series Balderdash & Piffle which tested new words or definitions sent in by the public for inclusion in the Oxford English Dictionary. OK, that doesn't sound funny but it often was. She also writes columns in The Guardian and The Observer. Besides being The Times's restaurant critic, Giles Coren was recently co-presenter (or victim) with comedian Sue Perkins of The Supersizers Go..., a series of programmes in which the pair lived for a week on the dishes of various periods and tested the effects of historical diets with hilarious and sometimes revolting results. He also wrote this (expletives undeleted) in which he vents his anger with some Times sub-editor who went too far with one of his articles.

Gardens I: Levens Hall, Cumbria

The gardens at Levens Hall, near Kendal in the South Lake District, contain the the oldest topiary garden in the world, created by Guillaume Beaumont in the 17th century.

This photo is of one of the more spectacular creations and there are more on the Levens Hall website.

I bet they didn't trim them like this in the 17th century!

There are also high and ancient hedges that you can walk into and see this sort of thing which looks like a setting for The Lord of the Rings.

The flower borders were past their best when we visited in late September...

...but there are photos on the website which show them in their summer splendour.

There's also a fertile apple orchard where the fruit is currently weighing down the boughs, like the Bramleys in this photo:

Speaking of food, as I often do, the Bellingham Buttery restaurant serves tasty meals using produce from the garden and estate. I can certainly recommend the sumptuous fruit cake containing Leven Hall's own Morocco Ale made from an Elizabethan recipe.

The house is also worth a visit. Inside you can see beautiful Spanish leather wall coverings of rare colour and quality, the earliest English patchworks, stunning Tudor carved wooden overmantels and a collection of Wellington memorabilia which was brought to the house when the Iron Duke's favourite niece married into the family.

Book Review: The Redemption of Alexander Seaton by Shona MacLean

Given that my blog has the word book in its name, I really ought to talk about books now and again. I've been reading some rather good books lately and here's a review (slightly amended) of one of them, The Redemption of Alexander Seaton by Shona MacLean. It appeared in the August 2008 issue of The Historical Novels Review.

On a stormy night in 1626 in the Scottish town of Banff, the local apothecary's assistant collapses in the street. Next morning he's found dead in Alexander Seaton's house. Murder is suspected and when one of Alexander's few friends in the town is arrested, our hero sets out to clear him. But Alexander has a past. Having studied to be a minister of the Kirk, he had been denounced at his ordination for dishonouring the girl he would have married. The disgrace lost him not only his future wife, but also his vocation and his faith. Embittered and heartbroken, he took the only job open to him, that of a lowly schoolmaster.

Now, in the course of his investigations, Alexander must deal with his fellow-citizens, good and bad. Some reveal themselves to be selfless and wise, others devious, greedy or unscrupulous. He must contend with inflamed prejudices that erupt in a witch hunt and with accusations of treacherous Catholic plotting. But above all, he must confront his own personal demons.

This engrossing, atmospheric novel is a satisfying, skilfully constructed mystery with richly developed characters. But just as importantly, it's a vivid evocation of a particular time and place by an author whose uncle was the thriller writer Alistair MacLean and who is herself a historian specialising in 16th- and 17th-century Scotland. She has used her heritage and her skills to the full in creating this memorable and exciting read.

Here's an interview with Shona MacLean in The Scotsman.

An Award and Some Nominations

Oh dear. I'm afraid I've become rather an unreliable blogger of late. Real life is so in the way in the blogosphere, as Mrs Gaskell might have said had she been living in the 21st century.

Sarah's Bookarama is, however, delighted to have been nominated for a blog award by Carla Nayland and Elizabeth Chadwick but, in view of its recent waywardness, it does feel rather a fraud. On the other hand, the undeserved accolade gives me a chance to nominate some of my favourite bloggers who are a good deal more dedicated than I am at the mo. I should like to single out Carla and Elizabeth of course, and others on my blogroll whom I nominated for a previous award.

But this time I thought I'd also mention a selection of excellent blogs I've discovered since then. So here, in no particular order, I present for your delectation:

George Orwell's Blog which was set up by The Orwell Prize to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the start of George Orwell's diary, much of which is published here for the first time. Each entry appears exactly seventy years after it was written. This from the introduction:

What impression of Orwell will emerge? From his domestic diaries (which start on 9th August), it may be a largely unknown Orwell, whose great curiosity is focused on plants, animals, woodwork, and – above all – how many eggs his chickens have laid. From his political diaries (from 7th September), it may be the Orwell whose political observations and critical thinking have enthralled and inspired generations since his death in 1950. Whether writing about the Spanish Civil War or sloe gin, geraniums or Germany, Orwell’s perceptive eye and rebellion against the ‘gramophone mind’ he so despised are obvious.

Cornflower. This is a beautiful blog, a source of daily aesthetic pleasure with its superb photographs, perceptive bookish thoughts and delicious recipes. To Cornflower I owe the delights of Sarah Raven's Garden Cookbook, from which I made 4 recipes in a week, which is a record for me from a single book. And every one was a winner. I'll probably be gushing some more about this book later.

Bad Science, the blog of Ben Goldacre, Guardian columnist, doctor and scourge of quackery, pseudoboffins and the misrepresentation of science in the media for the sake of an eye-catching headline. You know the sort of thing: tests on 5 blind mice show that red wine cures cancer/prevents strokes/lets you live to be 100. But what the hell: we're all going to disappear into a black hole next Wednesday - or are we? If not, there'll be time to read Ben Goldacre's book, just out in paperback.

Circle of the Year. This is a delightful blog that rejoices in the customs, traditions and natural rhythms of the English countryside, especially the Derbyshire Peak District. The photographs are superb.

NewsBiscuit, an up-to-the-minute satirical news blog to which anyone can submit material for consideration, a sort of www.notthetimesgrauniadindydailymailonline.co.uk with a special section on the Isle of Wight, for some reason.

Wife in the North, the tragicomic blog of a London journalist who, at her husband's behest, reluctantly moved with him, their two small children and another one on the way, to the wilds of Northumberland where the debatable joys of the weather, the natives and a major house renovation awaited her. The blog is certainly sad and funny - and wry and poignant and perceptive too, though the author got quite a tongue-lashing from some early commenters for her rude remarks about folk Oop North. Nonetheless she sold the idea to Penguin for a lot of money - yes, folks, it can be done - and the book of the blog came out recently.

Classical Bookworm Even if you're not interested in the Greek and Roman classics, there's plenty here for everyone who loves books and reading - from the serious to the quirky. The latest post is about how recent screen adaptations of Jane Austen misunderstand her values. Lots of fascinating sidebar links too.

Sceptical Cook. Nicholas Clee is a book journalist and food writer who uses this blog to experiment with recipes and ingredients. He's good on the how and why (and why not) of cooking and is usefully frank about his failures. The successes of course sound delicious. Lots for us foodies to learn and enjoy. He's also the author of that invaluable little tome Don't Sweat the Aubergine: What Works in the Kitchen and Why.

A Derbyshire Mystery

Last weekend I visited my Cheshire family and went with Mother and Dad for a beautiful walk in their beloved Derbyshire Peak District. We parked the car at Middleton (which features in the magnificent book The Hike by Don Shaw) and walked through beautiful Bradford Dale.

Mother & Dad on a clapper bridge over the River Bradford

In the hollow leading down to the River Bradford we came across this intriguing piece of sculpture. Can any blogger tell us anything about it? We'd love to know how something so unexpected came to be there!
Click to enlarge and read the words

Old House in Youlgrave

Along with Auntie Kath, we also visited Tatton Park near Knutsford

where the Japanese Garden is a particularly beautiful feature

A Delicious Summer Lunch

Home-made soup, home-made bread and fruit freshly picked from the garden. Ambrosia.

I made up the soup recipe. I sometimes tweak it, so the quantities are somewhat vague. I'm rather pleased with it as my attempts to devise recipes usually end up in the bin or as friend-and-family jokes - or both. Someone only has to say "lager soup", or "no-bake key lime pie" (the one that drooled out of the tin and oozed floorward over the edge of the table) and everybody grimaces and falls about.

Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup with Feta (5-6 servings)

You need enough red peppers (de-seeded and quartered) to cover the base of a 30cm by 23cm (12" by 9") roasting tin or similar, and enough medium-sized ripe tomatoes (halved) to cover the base of another, cheek by jowl. (OK, tomatoes and peppers haven't got cheeks or jowls but you know what I mean).

Tuck in 2 or 3 peeled, whole cloves of garlic per tin and sprinkle over enough olive oil to coat everything.

Roast at 200 deg C/180 deg C fan/Gas 6 for about 45 minutes-1hr, or until the peppers are starting to blacken and the tomatoes are soft. The toms might take a bit longer than the peps.

In a food processor (or a large saucepan using a stick blender), whizz the contents to smoothness with about a litre of good vegetable stock (I use Marigold as I don't often make my own) and a generous handful of torn basil leaves. After this, you can push the soup through a sieve to get rid of tomato seeds and any bits of skin but I don't bother - I'm too lazy, and besides I like something to chew in my soup.

Either way, heat the soup gently, crumbling in about 100g (4oz) of feta cheese, or more if you like. The cheese won't dissolve completely, so your soup will have pretty white specks in it which will add some more texture and delightful little explosions of flavour. Taste the soup, which should be quite thick. If the flavour isn't strong enough, you could add a tablespoon or so of tomato paste and/or some more cheese. Check the seasoning and it's ready to eat.

On a hot day, it's good cold. Oh, and it freezes well.

This soup cries out for some plain crusty peasant bread or even this version of soda bread which I've adapted from the traditional Irish version. I adore soda bread, not only because it's absurdly easy and quick to make and tastes divine, but also because it reminds me of my Saturday morning childhood visits to my Irish Grandad. In my memory, his sister, my Great-Aunt Hannah, who kept house for him and my Auntie Kath, is just bringing soda bread out of the oven when we arrive, ready to be cut and eaten with butter melting into the dense, nutty slices.

Oaty Wholemeal Soda Bread

275g (10oz) stoneground wholemeal flour
175g (6oz) medium oatmeal
2 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda
1 teaspoon salt
25g (1oz) butter
about 300ml (half a pint) buttermilk (or plain yogurt if you can't get buttermilk) to make a sticky but handle-able dough

Put the dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl and mix well to combine. Cut the butter into small pieces and work them into the flour and oat mix between your fingertips.

Add the buttermilk and stir thoroughly until everything is incorporated. If you need more liquid, you can add some milk.

Knead the dough for a couple of minutes on a floured surface, then shape it into a 20cm (8") round. Using a sharp knife, mark the round with a deep cross, place the loaf on a greased baking sheet and bake at 200 deg C/180 deg C fan/Gas 6 for about 30-35 minutes.

To test for doneness, tap the base of the loaf and if it sounds hollow, it's finished.

You can also bake it in a greased (even if non-stick) 2lb loaf tin but allow an extra 15 mins or so.

Cool on a wire rack. It's best eaten on the day it's made, but it freezes well and it also makes delicious toast!

Soda Bread cooling, watched over by Teddy Gummidge, a gift to Ian from our local hospice for agreeing to buy a weekly lottery ticket from them. He looks like A Bear Who Enjoys His Bread

And to finish, a dish of raspberries freshly plucked from these canes in our garden

In my opinion, raspberries are the most perfect of fruits in taste, texture and colour, and should be eaten just like this, unadorned and un-messed-about with. Even I can't spoil this dish!

Powers of Concentration

Here's a rather consoling article by Alan Massie in The Spectator. It's about the waning powers of concentration that dismay the ageing reader. I find it consoling for two reasons: firstly it confirms that I'm not the only one who suffers from it as I get older and secondly it offers a practical remedy. So it's not all downhill, then.

The Secret Garden

No, not The Secret Garden of Frances Hodgson Burnett, but the Secret Garden at Quarry Bank Mill, Styal in Cheshire, to which we recently repaired.

Quarry Bank Mill, in the care of the National Trust, is one of several important industrial heritage sites in North West England.

Set beside the River Bollin, it was built as a cotton mill by Samuel Greg in 1784 and it still produces 10,000 yards of cloth a year from the various machines that have been lovingly restored for demonstrations to the public. The Greg family were notably humane toward their workers but, as the mill exhibition shows, working days were long, dirty, noisy and dangerous. The Gregs bought children from the workhouses to train as apprentices (you can visit The Apprentice House where they lived), giving them better conditions than the workhouse, with decent education and health care. Nevertheless, the whole set-up still seems shocking to us.

Right next door to the mill (a bit too close for comfort, I would have thought!), the Gregs built an elegant family house

overlooking the River Bollin, with a landscaped garden that ran along the side of the valley. It's this garden, long hidden from view, that The National Trust has spent some years restoring as the Gregs would have known it, and it was opened to the public in March this year. It still looks rather new and raw in places, but it will be interesting to visit again over the next few years as it "beds in":

Book Review: The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale

I'm not a big fan of crime novels and if I do read them it's usually for something other than the investigation of the crime (see, for example, my review of Ruso and the Demented Doctor by R. S. Downie).

However, I can't resist a real-life murder story, particularly if it happened in a prosperous middle-class Victorian household and opens up a Pandora's box of seething emotional turmoil concealed beneath a veneer of stuffy respectability. The names Florence Bravo, Adelaide Bartlett, Madeleine Smith, Florence Maybrick and of course Lizzie Borden, spring to mind. And if they're unsolved mysteries, so much the better.

The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, the investigation of a child-murder in 1860s Wiltshire, ticks all these boxes, except the last. But that doesn't stop Kate Summerscale from telling a fascinating story with all the skill of a practised crime novelist, carefully setting out the troubled family background, the personalities involved and the circumstances of the murder, before gradually revealing the clues so as to allow the reader to play detective along with the real article.

Not a great deal is known about Jonathan Whicher, one of Scotland Yard's Victorian best, and the author doesn't embroider the facts, preferring to concentrate on contemporary police practice and the urban working class from which this detective sprang. Jonathan Whicher's police career ended in failure (though his suspicions in the Road Hill House murder, otherwise known as the Constance Kent case, were later proved right), and his real legacy is a literary one. The Constance Kent case was the original country house murder, sensational in its own time, whilst Wilkie Collins's Sergeant Cuff and Dickens's Inspector Bucket were both inspired by the intriguingly shadowy figure of Inspector Whicher.

Because they involve the brutal deaths of real people, true-life murder stories I find rather a guilty pleasure, though I hope I'm not being disingenuous in claiming that the real satisfaction lies as much in what they reveal about life in the eras in which they're set as in solving the mysteries themselves (or, as in the case of Adelaide Bartlett and Jack the Ripper, not solving them).

In any case, The Suspicions of Mr Whicher is a perfect gem of the genre, worthy to sit alongside such classics such as Poison and Adelaide Bartlett, Death at the Priory and The Poisoned Life of Mrs Maybrick.

The book has a website here.

Rules for Writing "Feminist Re-Imagings & Re-Imaginings" Historical Novels

I hope you’re still paying attention because these Rules, by novelist India Edghill, originally published in the Historical Novel Society’s magazine Solander, are absolutely indispensable if you want to get ahead as a feminist historical novelist.

OFFICIAL RULES FOR WRITING “FEMINIST RE-IMAGINGS & RE-IMAGININGS” HISTORICAL NOVELS
by India Edghill

1. All heroines are goddess-worshippers. If necessary (i.e., they are the daughter of the Jewish High Priest of Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem), they are secret goddess-worshippers.

2. To be Politically Correct and not Offend Anyone, all gods are one god and all goddesses are one goddess. This means you don’t need to research their actual names or attributes, which is a real time-saver. Just remember that the deity the heroine worships is called simply “The Goddess”. To remain PC, from time to time try to remember that The Goddess has a Consort, The God (a deity who bears about the same vital relationship to The Goddess as Ken does to Barbie).
2a. In pre-Christianity historical novels, the goddess is properly called “the Great Mother”, even when the goddess actually worshipped has a perfectly good name, such as Isis, Asherah, or Inanna.
2b. In post-Christianity historical novels, Jesus is properly referred to as “the White Christ”, not to be confused with either the Lone Ranger or the Man from Glad. He may, however, be confused with the Goddess’s Consort.
2b.1. In which case, the Virgin Mary may, if you like, be confused with the Great Mother.

3. All goddess worshippers are pacifistic, politically-correct, and ecologically sound.
3a. All cultures that worship goddesses treat women well. All monotheistic cultures treat women badly. This holds true even though it requires ignoring such facts as sati in India (which has lots of goddesses) and female infanticide in pre-Islamic Arabia (which had lots of goddesses).
3b. All monotheistic cultures deny women any rights. This holds true even though it’s the Holy Qu’ran that grants women a half share in their father’s inheritance, rather than the zero share they got under the pan-Arabic pantheism that preceded Islam.

4. All monotheists are Bad
4a. Although they are pantheists, the Ancient Achaeans are Bad because they worship a Sky Father and drive out the Earth Mother.
4b. Although they are pantheists, Vikings are Bad because they worship an All-Father.
4b.l. Unless the book is a Viking romance, in which case I suppose the All-Father and the Great Mother can elope to Las Vegas for the weekend.

5. There are only two religions: The Old Religion and The New Religion. One of them is Good and one is Bad. Unfortunately, which is which varies according to time period.
5a. In Dark Ages fiction, Paganism is properly called The Old Religion, and is a Good Thing. It is opposed to Christianity, which is called the New Religion, and is a Bad Thing.
5a.1. This seriously confuses those of us who grew up reading historical novels set in the Tudor period, during which the Old Religion was Catholicism (a Bad Thing), and the New Religion was Protestantism (a Good Thing)
5a.2. But in novels about the English Civil War, the Cavaliers are Catholic and Good and the Roundheads are Protestant and Bad.
5b. In historical novels set in the 20th century, NeoPaganism is called the Old Religion, even though its name means “new Paganism” and you’d think it would be called the New Religion and Christianity would now be called the Old Religion. Well, it isn’t.

6. Whatever the Old Religion is, people practicing it are burned at the stake. This holds true even in countries where witches were hanged and only heretics were burned

7. Important Note: When referring to the “witch craze” period, remember it is A KNOWN FACT that nine million women were burned. Ignore modem serious research indicating that the number was more like 500,000 over a 300-year period. Ignore the trial records, if necessary. (In fact, it’s always best to ignore any facts that contradict the PC view on anything). In addition:
7 a. All those accused of being witches were women, because it’s all about male hatred of women, really. Again, ignore the trial records, if necessary (including all those defendants named named Henry, John, WaIter, and Philip).

8. Anyone accused of witchcraft actually is a follower of the Old Religion (whatever it is this book). They are never a devout Christian who is falsely accused.

9. All goddess-worshippers are expert herbalists and midwives.

10. All Christian priests are hypocritical bigots.
10a. Friars, however, may be sympathetic, if they’re not actually goddess-worshippers in disguise.
10b. Nuns may be unworldly nature-lovers or bitter bigots. Abbesses, however, are always narrow-minded.
10c. Abbesses are always sexually frustrated, cherishing an unholy passion for 1) the convent priest, or 2) the nubile new postulant, or 3) Jesus.

11. All goddess-worshippers enjoy their menstrual period as a time of womanly empowerment that proves their Oneness with Nature. No woman ever suffers cramps, migraines, nausea, bloating, or uncontrollable mood swings during her womanly “moon cycle”.

12. When the Bible is quoted to prove woman’s Subjugation to Man and her Inherent Vice, the quote will always be from the King James version, even though that translation dates from 1611 and your book is set in 1250.
12a. Whatever the book’s historical period, the patriarchal monotheistic villains will refer to Satan and the Devil, whether the concept’s been invented yet or not.

13. All lesbians are Good, because they prove the True Sisterhood of All Women. Unless the lesbian is an Abbess (see 10c above), when she’s merely Repressed and Embittered. There may or may not be a gay guy; if there is, he is the only Nice Man in the book. All heterosexual men beat their wives. Remember that:
13a. All goddess-worshippers are violently tolerant of all varieties of sexual behavior.
13b. All Christians are violently intolerant of any variety of sexual behavior.

14. No man in a feministly-reimaged historical novel ever does anything worthwhile.
14a. All worthwhile achievements were really done by goddess-worshipping women.
14b. If the man is an historical figure who is well-documented as having definitely done something, the idea was really given to the great man by a goddess-worshipping woman.
14b.1. Unless he stole the idea from a GWW.
14b.2. Unless the accomplishment is a new weapon. All weapons are invented by men.

15. No heroine in a feministly-reimaged historical novel ever does anything bad, because women are inherently gentle and nurturing, dedicated to peace, harmony, the Great Chain of Being, Oneness, and the Circle of Life.
15a. This is why you probably won’t see feministly-reimaged historical novels about
i. Catherine de Medici or
ii. The Empress Wu or
iii. Ranavalona of Madagascar
anytime soon.

India Edghill’s novels include Wisdom’s Daughter: A Novel of Solomon and Sheba, and Queenmaker: A Novel of King David's Queen.