Object Lessons: #7

I don’t remember my grandparents having this wooden bowl, but it was with their things when they died, so they must have used it for something. Although it reminds me of something suitable for the medieval table and thus I’d really love to eat out of it, I’m not sure how food-safe it is, nor how best to clean it, and so for now it just holds garlic.

Oklahoma Renaissance Festival 2015

What a season it’s been! I rekindled old friendships, made new ones, practiced new photography skills, and generally had a completely wonderful time.

You can see full albums of photos at my facebook page, but here’s a sampling of some of my favorites.

Dancing at pubsing

My pirate boys.

Memorial Day parade.

I made a lot of new additions to my garb this year.

  

Nonfiction by women writers

Tonight my friend Maureen over at BySingingLight asked for recommendations for excellent non-fiction by female authors, with a focus on history and biography.

Well, you can’t ask for book suggestions within earshot of a librarian without getting a detailed list back, so without further ado:

A Royal Experiment: the private life of King George III, by Janice Hadlow. I just finished this and I learned so much.

How To Be a Victorian, by Ruth Goodman. Detailed and incredibly well-researched – everything you need to know about daily life in Victorian times.

The Victorian City: Everyday Life in Dickons’ London, by Judith Flanders. Are you seeing a theme here? I’ve read a lot of books about England/English history in the last six months. A lot.

A Journey Through Tudor England: Hampton Court Palace and the Tower of London to Stratford-Upon-Avon and Thornbury Castle, by Suzannah Lipscomb. Here’s another.

And now for a few that aren’t about English history:

Twelve Little Cakes, by Dominika Dery. I absolutely loved this one, but it seems like it’s slipped under everyone else’s radar. Dominika Dery has a charming way of writing and even though life was very difficult growing up in communist Czechoslovakia – especially if your parents were dissidents – each tale of her childhood is presented with such love and humor that it really is a “feel good” book.

And Then There Were Nuns, by Jane Christmas. I’m never entire sure how II feel about Jane Christmas, but this is by turns funny, deep, and thought-provoking.

A Homemade Life: stories and recipes from my kitchen table, by Molly Wizenberg. Yes, it’s recipes … but it’s a lot more than that.

Consider the Fork, by Bee Wilson. You don’t have to be food-obsessed to enjoy this, but it probably helps.

As Always, Julia, edited by Joan Reardon. This is a collection of letters between Julia Child and her good friend Avis. Both women are so intelligent and funny, and their personalities shine through their correspondence.

I could go on … and on … and on, but I’ll leave it at this for now. Basically, if you like food or British history, you’ll probably find something on this list to love.

Object Lessons: #6

I found this in a junk pile, so I rescued it. It’s brass? I think? And probably functional, but I’ve never untied the string (who put it there? why?), so I’ve never opened the lid to check.

 

Object lessons: #5

My very first spring flower (a crocus planted who knows how long ago by my grandmother) in a tiny cream pitcher from a tiny tea set given to me by my very first overnight guest, BlackLips Bonny Moffatt. Both of these things make me incredibly happy.

Object lessons: #4

This is a shoe shine box. I know that because it says “shoe shine” on the side. Other than that, I know absolutely nothing about it except that my grandparents probably had it forever, I now keep cat supplies in it, and I adore it.

Object lessons: #3

In January of 2011, I was in Goshen, Indiana for a family funeral. It was a sad time, but also intensely beautiful. I spent lots of time exploring small shops (and coffee shops), walking around in the falling snow.

I particularly loved Graber|Found. I had a lovely chat with the owner about traveling the world (as he does to collect the things he sells – lucky duck).

I wanted to buy a handpainted Ethiopian Orthodox icon; instead I bought this tiny paper crane.

Object lessons: #2

One lovely spring morning in New York City, I stopped in at Murray’s Cheese Shop for supplies for a picnic in Washington Square Park, among which was some icelandic yogurt. But to eat yogurt one needs a spoon, so it was a lucky thing that Murray’s also sells these little olivewood spoons.

The baguette, brie, and yogurt are long gone. The spoon remains.

Object Lessons (#1)

recording memories, documenting history

Family lore says my maternal grandfather fished this teapot out of a trashcan while on his garbage collecting route. The spout is chipped, some of the enameled design is gone, and the lid’s been broken and glued back together more than once.

It still makes a mean pot of tea.

___________

The Time-Traveler’s Guide To London (and Oxford): Being a list of notable places mentioned in Blackout/All Clear by Connie Willis

The view from the dome of St. Paul’s.

[update: I had a marvelous time, and now I’ve updated this post with pictures from my travels!]

Background: I’m going to London for the first time next month, and that seemed like as good a reason as any to reread Connie Willis’ marvelous time-traveling-historical-WWII-heroism-timey-wimey masterpiece duo, Blackout and All Clear.

And not just reread, but reread for the 5th time in three years. Because guys, I love these books so much. If you like London, or time-travel, or Shakespeare, or boys who will go to the ends of the earth to rescue the girl they love, you should probably read these books.

And along the way, I thought it would be pretty great to try to go to as many significant spots mentioned in the books as possible. (Wearing my green coat, of course.) So I started making a list.

This is in no way an exhaustive list, and I suspect I’ll be adding to it with subsequent re-readings of Blackout/All Clear – and visits to England!

Due to the complexities of the text, I’ve used the name the character was using in the place/time referenced, rather than sticking with their “real” name. And needless to say, HEREIN BE SPOILERS.

If you spot things I’ve gotten wrong (I’m sure there are many), or find something that should be added, comment and I’ll update this list.

_____________________

 

Oxford

Behind the Bodlien.

“You’re in Oxford, she told herself … suddenly jubilant. You’re in Oxford. There’s no blackout, no rationing, no Lady Caroline, no Hodbins…” (Eileen)

In 2060, the lab and other essential sites are located in Oxford.

Doorway at the Bodlien.

Historians do research at the Bodlien library; Polly spends time studying there.

Transport is located at Oriel.

Dunworthy’s rooms and office are in Balliol.

Catte Street.

Early in Blackout, Polly walks “out Balloil’s gate, up the broad, and down Catte St.”

Eileen and Polly walk along High St. to King Edward St. while talking about their assignments.

A lane near Christchurch in Oxford.

Dover (area)

Mike arrives on the beach near Saltram-on-Sea (fictional town, “30 miles from Dover”)

Dunkirk

In 1940, Mike assists in the rescue of men from Dunkirk.

Dulwich, Surrey 

Mary is stationed at an ambulance post here in 1944.

Orpington

In 1940 Mike is taken to the War Emergency Hospital for injuries sustained while at Dunkirk.

Croydon

Mary (stationed at the ambulance post in Dulwich) and Fairchild respond to a V1 incident at a newspaper office in 1944.

Kent

Ernest’s work in 1944 spreading misinformation to the Germans is based in Kent, where he writes fake newspaper articles and personal ads, inflates rubber tanks, and confuses German prisoners.

Manchester

Mike visits Daphne and her husband in Manchester to try to track down what he thinks is the retrieval team.

London:

Sir Godfrey chooses the Phoenix Theatre for the troupe’s pantomime; it is here that he is injured and Polly saves his life.

The Phoenix is near the Alahambra (“off Shaftsbury Ave”), where Polly is in ENSA as Air-Raid Adelaide. Unfortunately, the internet tells me that the Alahambra was demolished in 1936, so unless there was another theatre bearing that name in the 1940s, this must just be an error or fictional stretching of the truth.

After the Phoenix is destroyed, the pantomime is moved to the Regent Theatre (I can’t find info on whether this was a real theater or not – anyone know?)

Holborn Tube Station – Polly spends one of her first nights here observing contemps; receives an Agatha Christie novel from the lending library.

Notting Hill Gate station: Polly hears her name being called, thinks it’s the retrieval team – but it’s Lila and Viv. This is the station the troupe & historians shelter in most regularly.

Embankment: Eileen stayed with Alf & Binnie here to keep them from going to Bank, which was going to be hit that night.

Whitechaple: district where Alf & Binnie live (on the fictious Gargery Lane.)

Stepney: district where Theodore lives.

Spire of St. Martin-in-the-Field.

St. Martin in the Fields: Polly stares at the spire and thinks “… You’re wrong about my getting through this, unless my retrieval team pulls me out before my deadline. An historian can’t be in the same temporal location twice. And they should have been here yesterday. Yesterday. This is time travel.” 

14 Cardle St – Mrs. Rickett’s Boarding house; fictional, but near Notting Hill Gate tube station (“just three streets over”). There’s a Callcott street in about the right spot – could it have just been given a fictional name?

Polly’s drop is on Lampden Road, which also seems to be fictional – but there’s a Campden Road in about the right spot.

Nelson statue at Trafalgar Square.

Her first day in 1940 London, Polly takes the Bakerloo to Piccadilly Circus, then a bus to St. Paul’s via Trafalgar Sq.  “Five years from now it would be crammed to bursting with cheering crowds celebrating the end of the war, but today even the pigeons had abandoned it.” 

Oxford Street:  John Lewis (gutted when she sees it first), Townsend Brothers, Peter Robinson – Polly walks by all of these department stores. She gets a job at Townsend Brothers.

National Gallery steps.

The lion didn’t have a broken nose, but I had my green coat!

Trafalgar Square: Polly (standing on the National Gallery steps) sees Merope in a green coat by the lion ‘with part of his nose missing’, standing with Binnie and Alf. (1945) Alf throws a firecracker that almost hits Colin, who is looking for Polly.

The Albert Memorial.

Kensington Gardens – Polly goes to wait for the retrieval team, meets up with Mike and Eileen. She waits near the Peter Pan statue, sitting in a bench across from it. After Mike joins the girls, they walk past the Albert Memorial. Mike’s comment is, “Jesus, what IS this thing?” Polly answers, “The Albert Memorial. Possibly the ugliest monument in all of England.” They sit on the steps of the memorial and discuss Polly’s deadline.

Kensington Palace: Mike delivers someone to a state dinner here and worries about running into Polly and Eileen, since it’s in their neighborhood.

St. Bart’s hospital: Mike is taken here after a wall falls on him, Eileen, Alf and Binnie make ambulance runs to here, they meet Agatha Christie.

After Mrs. Rickett’s blows up, they move to a house on Millwright Lane in Bloomsbury, near Russell Square.

Modern day London:

Imperial War Museum – Colin meets Binnie in 1995.

British Library – Colin meets Ann Perry in 1976 while researching.

  St. Paul’s:

My first glimpse of St. Paul’s. I cried.

“Polly stepped out into the nave. And gasped. Mr Dunworthy had said St. Paul’s was unique, and she’d seen vids and photographs, but they hadn’t begun to convey how beautiful it was. Or how vast.”

“…the audible hush St. Paul’s always had. The sound of space and time” 

Mentioned often in the books: Light of the World painting, Nelson’s tomb, the Firewatch Stone.

“The floor where we are standing – ” 

Is where the Fire Watch stone will be,” Polly thought.

Geometrical Staircase – boarded up when Polly first sees it.

In winter 1941, they hold Mike’s “funeral” here: the vicar, troupe, Alf & Binnie, Miss Snelgrove, firemen, and others. “Coo, this church is fancy!” Alf said. The memorial service is held in the Chapel of the Order or St. Michael and St. George off the south aisle.

Dunworthy gets lost in the “rabbit warren of confusing lanes and maze-like passages.” He also serves as a Fire Watch volunteer in the church.

The view down from the dome down onto the church roofs.

Great West Door: Polly slips through here while Mike and Eileen distract the ARP man

Wellington’s Tomb – A chorister minding the shelter leads Polly past this to the shelter in the west end of the church’s basement/crypt. “He led her into a sandbagged arch at the end of the church…” 

___________

Just a personal note on St. Paul’s: my sacred architectural first love is always various forms of gothic, and I expected to fall in love with Westminster Abbey and just appreciate St. Paul’s, built in English Baroque style, for it’s role in Blackout/All Clear.

I was wrong.

I landed at Heathrow early in the morning and spent a few hours killing time at the British Library waiting for my rented flat to be ready to occupy. When it was, I dropped my stuff off, bought a few groceries, and then hopped on the Tube and went straight to the St. Paul’s stop. When I emerged on the surface, I spun around, disoriented, trying to find my bearings … and saw the dome of St. Paul’s, white and gleaming, peaking out from among the modern buildings surrounding it.

Reader, I cried.

It’s just the Blackout feels, I thought. Inside won’t be that impressive.

I was wrong again.

When I walked through the doors into that vast, light-filled space, when I was hit by that “audible hush” – my knees went weak.

I cried again during pretty much every service, when that huge space (so tall as to be almost incomprehensible, not the least when you think about when and how it was built, and by whom, and when) filled with ringing voices lifted in worship. I defy anyone, no matter their religious bent – or lack thereof – to remain unmoved.

I ended up going back to St. Paul’s every day, sometimes two or three times. I went for morning services, for evening services. I had breakfast on the steps in the rain. I took the official tour. I climbed to the very top of the dome and looked down from a dizzying height – thinking about Mike, caught in the fires on Fleet Street, thinking about Mr. Dunworthy and all the real life Firewatchers – old men and young boys, those who couldn’t be soldiers – who didn’t stay hidden in the relative safety of the shelters during those long nights of bombings, but rushed around on the roofs, putting out fires, ultimately saving St. Paul’s from destruction. Thinking, too, about Christopher Wren and his impossible building, and about how St. Paul’s rose from the ruins of the Great Fire to become one of London’s most iconic buildings.

Westminster is older, has been arguably more notable historically, has more royal connections. But St. Paul’s will be my first and last stop any time I’m in London.

The view from St. Paul’s down Fleet Street.