Saturday, 20 August 2016

Momentary Stars: Poems by Edward Vanderpump

  My poetry collection "Momentary Stars" is now available from Clydesdale Jefferson Press. It is a 72-page book with a lovely painting, "Flow", as the cover. This is by my daughter, artist and jewellery-maker Sally Vanderpump. I'll put a picture on Twitter. The poems range from those written this year back to 1962. There's family life, love, death, travel, art, current affairs (horrors included), but cats (sometimes sinister rather than cosy), and cricket (with astrolabes), too.

Retail price is £10 but I have copies, so discount at readings or in person - and postage and packing free in the UK if you send me a tenner or a cheque (payable to me, Edward Vanderpump). DM me on Twitter or Facebook if you'd like one.

Thursday, 26 February 2015

He, Cromwell

 I enjoyed the BBC's "Wolf Hall" in the end and went back and got into "Bring Up the Bodies" - even finished it. Mantel and publishers took note of criticism and made it a lot clearer, at the cost of having "He, Cromwell" on nearly every page. (They might almost use it as a subtitle in the reprint.) It was obvious ("clunky") - and annoying when it wasn't inserted but was still needed. And why not just "Cromwell said..." or whatever? It shows reads of crisis or even panic editing or revision.

 Mantel reminds me of a neighbour who talks about her many friends as if I know them and thinks I understand their backgrond and histories as well as she does. I'm sure Mantel knew who she meant and identified with Cromwell but why not write it as him, in the first person, if "he" is (nearly) always "he, Cromwell"?

  I enjoyed Rylance's performance but he had to go with the overdone hagiographic line on Cromwell. The evidence, including Holbein's portraits, suggests that he was much nastier, cunning, ruthless, very hard-bitten. I disagree that Rylance gives a minimalist performance. For me, he overdoes the eye movement, the surprised or fearful looks. I imagine the real man was much tougher and stony-faced. But that wouldn't be so theatrical or televisual - or interesting, perhaps.

  Rylance is made to call himself  explicitly "a banker", rather than a lawyer. The parallels are obvious but wouldn't it have been interesting to emphasise also the medieval mindset, rather than the modern British sensibility and idiom? And more emphasis on the religious fanaticism of the times might have tolled a dreadful bell and added significant depth, with continuing topical relevance, unfortunately.

Friday, 23 January 2015

Why Wolf Hall?

 As my friend and follower here and on Twitter @IvorSolomons has pointed out, not a single wolf has yet been seen in this series. But watch this space.

Wolf Effingham Hall

 There's been discussion online about the language of the BBC's "Wolf Hall". Not, mercifully, about the headache-makingly unclear pronouns of the book (who he?), but about the very modern style. This extends into body language and attitudes. When the king, with power of life and death over his subjects, asks Cromwell why he called a French town "a dog hole", Thomas almost shrugs and says with a rising intonation, like an offensively casual teenager, "Because I've been there?" Also at Sir Thomas More's dinner table he asks if his host had become Lord Chancellor by "fucking accident". It sounds like a very modern and aggressive usage quite out of character for the cool, cautious Cromwell.

It has been pointed out, btw, that the f-word does appear in a 16C manuscript. But there it is a monk saying factually what the abbot was up to and is not used as an intensifying adjective. This latter usage may not have come in till the 19C, it seems. (Thanks to world expert on slang Jonathon Green @MisterSlang and to @LoisMcEwan on that.) Although they are often referred to as Anglo-Saxon, several four-letter swear words were not used as such until modern times.

I suppose the orthodoxy is to make historical figures human and, indeed, modern. Wouldn't it be more interesting, though, if they were strange and different, weird even, almost from another planet? After all, these were very superstitious people who believed in all sorts of supernatural and miraculous things and who thought hanging, drawing and quartering and burning alive were suitable judicial punishments. It is a bit like saying if you are teaching inner-city kids, you should read stories and poems about their type of lives and environment. But perhaps they would prefer something rich and strange? Philip Pullman novels come to mind.

Saturday, 10 January 2015

Just Reasons

 There are no excuses for terrorism, by individuals, by armies or by states. But there must be reasons. It is not acceptable to be an apologist for murder. But it is legitimate and, indeed, important to discuss the reasons.

This poem of mine was first published in The Rialto, Number 70, Autumn 2010. Thanks again to the editor, Michael Mackmin. Maybe worth repeating.


The women shot in the back of the neck
and pushed into ditches.
Persecution organised,
genocide industrialised.

The bombs on buses,
in restaurants,
the children blown to pieces
on the beach.

Victimisation, apartheid, the wall,
the bulldozed homes, the olive groves.

Just reason, justice, just excuses.
Executions. Terror. Exile. Torture.
Just reasons. No excuse.

Thursday, 27 November 2014

Potterisation II - cliché becomes history

 Some people have said they can notice the inaccurate language and anachronisms while still enjoying films like, for example, "The Imitation Game". I can to some extent but I get annoyed because the language is just a symptom of the Potterisation syndrome. This goes deeper and involves over-simplification, sentimentalising, stereotyping and making crude.

 In this film it leads to a falsification of an important part of British and computer science history and, as several articles have pointed out, does not do justice either to a great mathematician or, indeed, to the whole Bletchley team.

Potterisation - The Imitation Game

 Why did "The Imitation Game" make me cross? I was looking forward to it and I find Cumberbatch a compelling actor. It was the American English that (no - correction) which (BrE) alerted me to what I will call the (Harry) Potterisation of British culture.

One of the Turing character's first lines is: "I could really use (something) right now." Oh no, here we go. Soon we have schoolboys at Sherborne School in the 1920s talking American English: "We are the smartest students in the math(s) class." (Ok, they drew the line at calling it "math" there and throughout.) But soon we have Keira Knightly's character saying: "I'm not going to be home all day fixing (yes, fixing!) your lamb"!

The saddest thing is (is) that most people loved it and didn't even notice that the characters spoke in a modern, americanised way in the 1920s-1950s setting. Globalisation seems to mean americanisation, starting with English-speaking countries. Vive la French attitude to culture and language: they may hold out longer.