Saturday, March 27, 2010

Phyllis Bentley on Tuesday

Richard Wilcocks writes:
Dave Russell from Leeds Met made plenty of assumptions about his substantial audience on Tuesday in Headingley Library - that most of us had read the 'textile district' novels of Phyllis Bentley, for example. Winifred Holtby (she of South Riding) as well. Vera Brittain? Hah, Vera Brittain! Heads nodded: everyone knew Testament of Youth.


There was tension between Bentley and Brittain, Dave Russell explained. Brittain had nice vowels, nice standard sounds, blending in well with the London lot, whereas Bentley was distinctly Halifax, and thought of herself as rather tweedy down there. Strangely enough, Brittain originated from Buxton, which is hardly southern. We saw a fascinating photo of the two of them with a toddling daughter - Shirley Williams, who is now Baroness Williams of Crosby.


Bentley was not just a 'regional novelist' (a fading category) but a novelist who dealt with class issues, and who came with a J B Priestley seal of approval. Her Inheritance (and yes, some of us have read it) was the big thing more than half a century ago, and was made into an impressive Granada TV drama series which was most ambitious for its time, which was 1967. The story of the Oldroyds covered 153 years, from the Luddite machine-breakers of 1812 to Churchill's death in 1965. Very young versions of John Thaw and James Bolam were in it. Many authentic workers' houses were still standing when filming took place, and the muddy killing fields of the Battle of the Somme were recreated just outside Wigan, which was not too difficult.


Bentley was also a significant writer of non-fiction: The Brontës and Their World still reads well today. 


Bentley is due for a revival, it was hinted - a major, if not really great, novelist should not be lost to us. There seemed to be general agreement. Thanks to Dave for his fascinating talk and useful (if sporadic) Powerpoint.




Below, Dave Russell with his LitFest bottle of Aurvin Winery Firebird Legend Cabernet Sauvignon 2007, Phyllis Bentley on a cigarette card and Vera Brittain in nurse's gear:



Wonderful sofa

The Saturday Sofa broadcast from ELFM is wonderful, especially the excellent contributions from the children of Shire Oak and Spring Bank primary schools. Thanks to everybody in the caravan parked outside St Michael's!

It was Dmitri Hvorstovsky

The music for Gaby's reminiscence in Déja-vu last Sunday caused a bit of a stir. This is what it was - Non ti scordar di me sung by the Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky. It is on a CD entitled Passione di Napoli.

Friday, March 26, 2010

North Noir

Re-watching the discomforting Red Riding television series, I couldn't help thinking of Martin Wainwright's talk at the LitFest last week, on people's perceptions of the North, and his passing mention of David Peace, "who might be a brilliant novelist, but....."  No doubt there will be audience members tomorrow (New Headingley Club at 3pm) who will ask suitable questions and make appropriately pithy comments on bloodstained depictions of Yorkshire, although the focus will be 1948 Tokyo and the 1984/5 Miners' Strike. A different kind of bloodstained.

Anyway, the TV backroomers really got it right when it comes to seventies clothes, interior design and tobacco, I am thinking. The wallpapers are authentically nightmarish. And I used to drive one of those Zephyrs. And all those smoke-filled rooms and characters with cigs drooping from their mouths... was it that bad?

Lettice Cooper

Lettice Cooper comes into the category of 'neglected women writers' and she had strong Leeds connections, so she may well feature on next year's programme. Get in touch if you have something to say on that.....

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Damned United. Damned good.

Monday's showing at our beloved Cottage Road Cinema (100 years old in 2012) of The Damned United, directed by Tom Hooper using David Peace's factional account as a starting point, was enjoyable, and funny. Poor old Billy Bremner doesn't come out of it very well, because we are reminded of spectacular deliberate dives as well as spectacular playing. Don Revie becomes a blustering manipulator too. 


Actually not that much spectacular playing (difficult to make it credible in a film like this) in spite of all attempts. Michael Sheen is a more than convincing Cloughie, and Timothy Spall a great Peter Taylor, but the screenplay does steer clear of certain parts of Peace's narrative, and the ending is well....cosmetic. Heartwarming though.


For all the genuine low-down, read Anthony Clavane's Promised Land, just out. Find it on Amazon.