Blake Morrison - Fiction or Life Writing

 Rebecca Cronin writes:

Softly spoken Yorkshireman Blake Morrison, in conversation with Richard Wilcocks, began with an introduction to Life Writing – what it is, and most importantly, how he makes it interesting. He shared anecdotes concerning his two books about his parents – Things My Mother Never Told Me and When Did You Last See Your Father? – and read passages from both. He centred his discussion around the use of embroidery, which he asserted to be important when fictionalising your characters, yet also spoke strongly about how the personal truths he experienced, and detailed in both books, often resonate well for other people.

Blake Morrison signed dozens of his books

Life writing, when the subject and main characters are not only no longer with you, but are also your parents, would perhaps strike most of us as odd, and perhaps even a task that could be beyond difficult.  But Morrison carried the notion of how for him, writing about his father, and then mother, proved to be a therapeutic and helpful experience, and in many ways, a coping mechanism for their deaths. Writing, he said, is a way to let someone tell a story they need to tell, as well as shaping it, and keeping control of it. Oddly enough, in the beginning, writing existed for him as a mechanism to escape his family, but they ended up being the main characters and roles within his work; they were inescapable. 

When discussing Things My Mother Never Told Me, he explained how his main plot line had revolved around a box of letters his father had left him. The letters provided the majority of the details which make up the book, but naturally left gaps that needed filling. As a forty year-old, reading about the lives of his twenty year-old parents, he expressed almost parental feelings towards them, and often felt that their marriage and his birth were exceptionally unrealistic results of their growing lives. 

The novel of his mother’s life was never something he had expected to write, and he described her as an elusive woman who didn’t enjoy being the topic of conversation. Yet his motivation for writing the book was concentrated around the growing question of why she had buried her Irish Catholic past; a question he strove to answer after learning more and more from the letters. He followed the discussion about the book with a harrowing reading about the immensely high infant mortality rate his grandparents experienced with their own children.

When the discussion turned to the film adaptation of When Did You Last See Your Father?, starring Jim Broadbent as his father and Colin Firth as himself, Morrison spoke earnestly of how impressed he had been with Broadbent’s portrayal of his Father. Before filming, the two had met and discussed his father at length– his clothes, accent, mannerisms  - and as a result, Morrison thought that Broadbent brought a new understanding to the role that he himself had not fully realised in the book. His parting remark about the film was that now, when he thinks of his father, he sees Broadbent’s face, and finds it difficult to see past that. His only regret is that when he looks in the mirror, he does not similarly see Colin Firth staring back at him.

The evening drew to a close with Morrison speaking briefly of his time working for The Observer, where a passage from When Did You Last See Your Father? appeared, alongside a photograph of the two of them. Seeing his work there, he remarked, proved to be shocking, as he often felt possessive over the story. By the time the film adaptation appeared fourteen years later, he had accepted how he could, and would, share the story with the public. A final round of questions concluded with “can you imagine your own children writing about you in a similar fashion to how you wrote about your parents?”, to which he answered, with an astonishing truth, “when writing about real life, and people in your real life, you have to be careful. But I’d hope they’d cast me in a good light – the truth is important, after all.”

The Hunchback of Notre Dame at Cottage Road Cinema

Partnership event with Far Headingley Village Society and Cottage Road Cinema

It was originally known as The Headingley Picture House

 Sheila Chapman writes:
We came in from the street muffled up to the eyeballs to escape the freezing cold and occasional snow of this March evening. We entered the panelled foyer of this 100 year old cinema complete with its ticket booth and ‘authentic’ tickets to be greeted by the welcoming warmth of its staff who were resplendent in evening attire. What a great start to an evening full of the atmosphere which you can only find in a cinema of this vintage!
We had come to watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame, chosen by the cinema (together with its partners, Far Headingley Village Society and Headingley LitFest), to reflect the Headingley LitFest’s 2013 theme – Lives and Loves.

But before the film we were treated to the adverts. Normally cinema adverts could hardly be described as a treat but these were vintage and so were tinged with nostalgia and, from this distance, were very amusing.

This version of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, based on the novel by Victor Hugo, is a testament to Charles Laughton’s portrayal of Quasimodo. Laughton’s performance, though often caricatured, drives the film by engaging us with the desperate and abused character who is the hunchback.  The film tells the story of Esmeralda, a gypsy girl in fifteenth century Paris, who becomes entangled in the machinations of the evil judge Frollo who both desires and hates her. She in turn loves Phoebus, a philandering soldier, while Quasimodo, the hunchbacked bell ringer of Notre Dame, loves her because of her kindness to him (she gave him water)  after he had been publicly flogged and left in the stocks.  Quasimodo demonstrates his love by saving Esmeralda from hanging. The greatest tragedy in the film is that of Quasimodo. He is mocked and brutalised because of his appearance and denied love despite the greatness of his heart and his courage.

The film’s plot differs considerably from that of the original novel – including a happy ending for Esmeralda. In addition, much of the social commentary in the novel has also been ‘Hollywoodised’ but sufficient remains to portray, in a fifteenth century setting, the social ills of poverty and exploitation and the corrupt use of power.

Quasimodo’s physical relationship with Notre Dame and its bells is a constant presence in the film. He clambers in and around the cathedral with ungainly dexterity. He plays the bells (which have deafened him) by lying on his back and pushing them with his feet and in one scene he actually jumps onto a bell and rides it. This physical portrayal of Quasimodo by Charles Laughton together with his evocation of the hunchback’s bewilderment and humanity is the lasting impression of the film.

As one member of the audience said ‘I can now appreciate why this film is a classic’.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939), RKO pictures – directed by William Dieterle 

Museum of Untold Stories - in HEART Café

Richard Wilcocks writes:

Urwin Watt (U Watt?) begins the show with an energetic warm-up, as the children are still coming into the HEART Café, already bubbling. He looks like the sort of person who could fix everybody and everything, prancing up and down, eyes glittering with what we hope is good humour, leather belt loaded with interesting tools. So what might happen? Any time traveling involved? The door of the structure in the corner which brings Tardis to mind - for some parents anyway - is apparently locked, and can be opened only when the right buttons are pressed. There is a countdown, with five minutes to go. Long minutes, giving time for a steel colander to be worn by volunteers, which might bring electrical strikes and cause explosions, not to worry…

There’s someone in there! You can tell by the noises. It turns out to be Stokely Pilgrim, teleported from Brazil, whose naval uniform signifies some kind of rank but who spends his time in an engine room stoking a ship’s furnace (cue for child to make an arch with his arms and become its entrance) and inviting people, all of them “sir” and “madam” in spite of the fact that some just about come up to his knee, to think about what the world would be like without stories.

Not much fun, of course. Soon, aided by an Urwin who is now called  ‘Mother’, he is addressing a gang of pirates (Ha – haaarr!) and then a sea full of sharks. Invisible bottles are picked up and hurled into the water, all of them containing stories to be found. “Do mermaids, do mermaids!” nags one of the tinier participants, dancing in and out of the action.  The ship’s bell clangs loudly. A broken crown is brought out. Who could that belong to? Could it be…

It’s obvious to nearly everybody: “Richard the Third!” they shout en masse. “Mermaids!” shouts a lone voice. A king in waiting is found – no matter about the gender – and a story about how the crown came to be broken is found. It seems that it fell off the king’s head when he (she) sneezed. That’s what the kings tells us, before ordering everybody to go to the castle on the hill immediately, or else their heads will roll.

And so the show continues, some of its elements constant, but with plenty which is unique to this particular performance, a tune with improvisation. Alive and Kicking Theatre Company Leeds has worked in primary schools, more recently in Kirkgate Market (just the sort of thing to revive the place), but to my knowledge does not do cafés very often. They’ll be doing this one again soon. It was terrific! My only criticism is that they didn’t get around to the mermaids.

To book Alive and Kicking ring John Mee at 0113 265 8631

www.aliveand kickingtheatrecompany.co.uk

And here is a photo of the performance the following day (14 March) sent by Liz Fox:

'Biking with Che' in Café Lento

Sean Hayes writes:

MESTISA - Beautiful songs from South America

Taking refuge from the surprisingly crisp winds of an early spring evening in the warm confines of the Café Lento was a perfect prelude to the sun-scorched journey of one Ernesto Guevara, (later to re-moniker himself 'Che', which he adopted because it was an Argentinian colloquialism for 'hey you' and used as a general term in other areas of South America to address Argentinians) from Argentina to Florida, taking in much of the continent along the way. 

Our introduction into the world of the young Che began with the specially decorated Café Lento, which featured pictures and illustrations of Guevara (yes, including that one) and as the centre-piece a large-scale map of South America, with the course of Ernesto and Alberto charted via illustration. Mestisa, the band made up of Barbara, Ana Luisa, Mike and Tenley, were setting out their assortment of weird and wonderful authentic instruments as the audience arrived. Amongst their inventory, as they explained during the course of the performance, was a quijada - the jawbones of a donkey played using the teeth, a charango - a small lute-like instrument which traditionally would have been made from the shell of an armadillo and a cajón - a box-shaped instrument developed by slaves whose other instruments had been taken away. To complement the music, wine and food prepared by Jose Gonzalez was served to complete the authentic atmosphere.  From there, we were introduced to an evening immersed in all things Che, as a narration of the biking trip, concisely scripted and read by Richard Wilcocks, based on and featuring extracts from Guevara's own Notas de Viaje (Motorcycle Diaries) provided a combination of irreverent insight and deep historical context to the life of one of the most iconic figures in modern history. 

Our story began with the son of a wealthy property developer. During his days as a medical student at the University of Buenos Aires, Ernesto met Alberto Granada, who was in charge of the distribution of medical supplies in a nearby leper colony. In 1952, after deciding to take a year off from his studies, Ernesto joined Alberto on a trip which had long been their shared ambition: an odyssey across Latin America on a motorcycle, namely their occasionally unreliable 1939 500cc Norton, which was christened La Poderosa - The Mighty One. What followed was a surprisingly funny series of mis-adventures, as Ernesto doggedly journeyed on, not at all resembling the noble freedom fighter that the colossally famous portrait would later depict. Instead, he and Alberto were mangueros motorizados - motorised scroungers - and amongst other exploits they accidentally shot one of their hosts' beloved German Shepherd dog, passed themselves off as expert researchers of leprosy and suffered through an unfortunate vomiting incident while stowed away on a cargo ship. 

This was far from a simple tale of gap-year shenanigans, however. Over the course of Ernesto's journey we saw the origins of his revolutionary leanings, as he encountered the harsh callousness which poverty can bring about in the form of an elderly, dying servant whose chronic asthma was met with apathy from her burdened family. Later, as Ernesto and Alberto's journey took them through a Chile on the brink of a massive presidential election, they encountered a stranded miner and his wife - outcast after being held in prison for his allegiance to the Chilean Communist Party - on their way to seek work in the terrible conditions of a sulphur mine deep in the Chilean mountains. The encounter led Ernesto to describe the couple as “tragic” and “a live representation of the proletariat of any part of the world”. 

Inserted into the narration was one of the poems (in English translation) by Pablo Neruda which Ernesto probably read on his travels, perhaps while dreaming of Chichina, the girl he left behind in Buenos Aires and who dropped him - 'Poem 20', which begins:

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, "The night is starry

and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance"

...

The music beautifully and powerfully represented Ernesto's feelings in this section of his journey, expressing not just his sadness with the mourning vocals but also using a rhythmic pounding to represent his rising anger and revolutionary spirit.  The music expressed perfectly the emotion of Ernesto's journey, as well as giving an authentic flavour, the songs being interspersed not only with the narration but with traditional Colombian dancing. Participation from the audience lent a sense of distinct camaraderie to the evening. Indeed, 'Biking With Che' was a witty and occasionally wry insight into the early days of an iconic legend, which gave us a powerful impression of the man behind the T-shirts and student posters. 

Sally Bavage adds:

The audience feedback, the delicious food and the atmosphere were fantastic.  Well done yet again to Café Lento, host Richard Lindley, and narrator Richard Wilcocks, for another splendid LitFest event which attracted a wide age range!  Interesting, too, that the importance of having time to read poetry was emphasised as Ernesto developed the foundations for Che.  

To book Mestisa contact Ana Luisa Muñoz  mestisauk@gmail.com  

Ravishing sounds of the Oud in Mint Café

Jacqui Agate writes:

As hordes of people took refuge from the snow to enjoy an authentic Arabian night in Mint Café, the first thing they were greeted with was a colourful array of Lebanese food.  The venue was absolutely full to the brim, with the attendees spread across two rooms. 

With walls adorned with pictures and an assortment of retro items available for purchase, the venue itself provided plenty to look at. The atmosphere was lively as we waited in anticipation of authentic music and beautiful Arabic poetry. Needless to say the entertainment did not disappoint.

Mint owner Marcos with oud-player Yasser Audhali

The master Yasser Audhali entered to a ripple of excitement and, after introducing himself, began to play the Oud. The room was filled with enchanting melodies accompanied by passionate vocals and two drummers, one of which was the owner of Mint, Marcos. Hand-made and decorated with intricate Egyptian designs the Oud is a treat to look at as well as to listen to. The group was clearly captured by the authentic melodies, with much foot-tapping, head-bobbing and eye-closing adding to the spirited, yet intimate, atmosphere within the room.

An added delight was Marcos explanation of the history of the Oud. The legend goes that it was invented by Lamech, the sixth grandson of Adam. Grieving for the death of his son he hung the body upon a tree. The shape of the Oud was inspired by the shape of his son’s bleached skeleton.

The oud (عود)and the lute both descend from a common ancestor 

Moreover, the beautiful music was punctuated by some of the Arabic love poems written by the Syrian poet Nizar Qabbani, read by Richard Wilcocks in English.  The first, When I Love You, was an incredibly romantic poem crammed with curious, thought-provoking similes and metaphors such as ‘hours breathe like puppies’ and ‘caravans ride from your breasts carrying Indian herbs.’ The second was Little Things. This sensual poem sees Qabbani take on the voice of a woman,  with the point being to stand up for the rights of women by communicating such things as a female might want to, but not be able to, express.  Finally, we heard the emotive poem Beirut Mistress of the World addressed to a city devastated by the Lebanese civil war:

We now realise that your roots are deep inside us,
We now realise what offence we've perpetrated;
Rise from under the rubble
Like an almond flower in April!

Packed full of rhetorical language and organic imagery this poem was another real treat. The evening ended with a short Q and A session which allowed everyone to gain further insight into the deeper meanings of the poems and the music. All in all, it was an inspiring night with an authentic feel, which truly left my mind stimulated and my spirit relaxed.

Caroline Owens - 'If You Fall, Run On'

Sally Bavage writes:

Caroline Owens

Hosted by Salvo’s in the salumeria and accompanied by a most appropriate supper – for a book launch - of pasta scrolls in sauce, Caroline Owens was able to share with us some anecdotes about her book, titled as above. Written at first as a tribute to her own mother, it also became a personal journey informed by Caroline’s expertise both as a child psychotherapist and a child of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It also celebrates all the other mothers who tried their best to bring up their children to hold fast to their values when chaos sometimes surrounded them. Then, as now. Growing up in 60s Northern Ireland and coping with 21^st century childhood involve challenge and change, difficulties and doubts.  

Caroline was only eight years old when the thirty years of the Troubles began.  She remembers her mother’s maxim of getting out of a tight spot quickly: “If you fall, run on.” She remembers vividly the day her mother challenged the balaclava-wearing armed gunmen who stopped the car in which they were off to school.  They wanted the car to burn in a blockade.  Her mother reached into the car and, picking up her umbrella, pointed it at them in defiance.  “I bet if you took your balaclavas off your mothers would stop you.  Now step aside; my children are going to school.”  And they did. Step aside. Go to school. Normality within the surreality.

Surreal too, she said, to see a memoir you have written in the window of Waterstones, after you have come to terms with the dissent that writing about real people and real events can cause within families. Power strikes after the power stations had been bombed led to evenings sitting by candlelight, the flickering of the turf and coal fire, the eldest children allowed to stay up late going quietly about small hobbies. The tick of the clock, the clatter of knitting needles, the rustle of paper as an origami paper bird was constructed and revised, over and over again.  Lessons in industry and perseverance that served as a metaphor for her life.

Caroline Owens with John Dammone (MD Salvo's)

Hard times in an area where, if you were Catholic, your hopes for employment were slim. Caroline came to Leeds in the late 70s, jobhunting at the age of eighteen, and was attracted by the wonderful Italian music flowing out of Salvo’s to sit outside and listen.  Drawn in by Salvo senior (Salvatore Dammone), and asked if she could work in a restaurant, the only answer had to be “Yes”, though of course in reality all the cafés and restaurants where she had lived had been bombed and closed.  No matter, the warm family atmosphere supported her and gave her a chance to try, to succeed and to move on in her own story.

“Don’t write a book because you want to be famous, write a book because you have a story to tell and a passion for writing.”  Caroline did, she has and we were fortunate to enjoy the genuine warmth and the honesty of her heartwarming and thought-provoking insights.

Buy the book now through the website - www.carolineowens.co.uk