Akenfield, The Imaginary Suffolk Village.

 

 I have just seen the film, Akenfield, made in 1974, since when I have managed to miss opportunities to view it over the years, several times. Viewing this little classic which is oral history at its best, did not disappoint. I appreciated it as a beautifully constructed filmic gem, as well as enjoying it hugely. Despite my gallant efforts, the Suffolkian dialect was challenging; available in snatches, generally, sufficient for a well-intentioned observer to comprehend the broader picture but sometimes lacking in understanding the detailed information about a character’s intention. So, I struggled from time to time but overall, I watched with awe the consummate skills of Roland Blythe, the writer, and Peter Hall, the director, demonstrated onscreen. Blythe recorded interviews with forty-nine men and women, from a blacksmith and a bell ringer to the local vet and a gravedigger, all people who lived in Charsfield, near his own Suffolk home.

Charsfield village sign

He chose to name his fictitious village, Akenfield, after the Old English ‘acer’ for ‘oak’ of which plenty grew nearby, though he based the name on two actual Suffolk villages: Akenham and Charsfield.Through his interviews, he  seemed to enter the villagers’ minds as they freely reminisced about their lives, in honest and evocative monologues, reflecting on their worlds, past and present. The narrative of the film merges the individual details into the reality of a whole class of people, who lived lives of great poverty and exploitation coupled with the everyday stoical acceptance of life for working class men in the first decades of the early twentieth century. From these reminiscences of survivors of the Great War, evoking days gone by, to the concerns of a younger generation of farm-workers and the personal recollections of the local schoolteacher, doctor, blacksmith, saddler, district nurse and magistrate, Akenfield reverberates with a spoken chorus of village voices, forming a unique document of a way of life that has chiefly disappeared. Written in the late 1960’s, Blythe’s book paints a vivid picture of a community in which the vast changes of the twentieth century are matched by the deep continuities of history, tradition and nature.

D.V.D. cover

The opening interview is with Leonard Thompson whom Blythe describes as “a survivor” and who was, in fact, Blythe’s own father. As father of a growing family, he had had to support his seven children on a weekly wage of thirteen shillings, reduced at random when the farmer hit hard times, to ten shillings a week. A labourer could be sacked for poaching a rabbit and when that happened, it was local news and neighbouring farmers took care not to involve themselves by hiring a suddenly available poacher! But although losing your job was a disaster; it meant also losing the rent-free, tied cottage which came with the job, as well as the wherewithal to buy the apples, potatoes, bread and swedes which chiefly formed the daily diet. Children were taken from school at the age of eight to work for a few pence at stone-picking for use in repairing roads, and other low-paid menial jobs. Leonard had caught his fingers in a cattle-cake machine when very young and the tips of three fingers had been amputated without anaesthetic. In those days there was no question of compensation for what was regarded as a normal hazard inherent in many farming activities.

In !9!4, the young Leonard saw the start of WW1 war as an opportunity to escape from his hard life of drudgery and somehow, he managed to survive the war. On his return, he became politicaly active and he helped set up the Agricultural Labourers' Union which eventually led to agricultural wages rising to 38 shillings and sixpence a week. Sadly, the slump awaited during the long, hot, prosperous summer of 1921 and poverty and difficult times resumed.

Akenfield church with nearby cotttage.

 

The plot of Akenfield has Tom, a young working class man living in a cottage in Akensfield, with his widowed mother. The film depicts the few days surrounding the funeral of Tom's grandfather who was born and grew  up in the village in the early 1900s, experienced a life of poverty and hard work, fought in the First World War, when he lost most of his comrades,and then returned home. He made a failed attempt to escape the village by walking to Newmarket for a job which he didn't get; then looked for, and found, a wife in the village and lived in a tied cottage on the farmer's estate for the rest of his life. Everyone says what a good old boy his grandfather was and his story is typical of his class and time. 

His son, Tom's father, was killed in the Second World War and Tom has grown up hearing many family stories, particularly about his father, from his grandfather. Meanwhile, in 1974,Tom is planning to get away from village life, with, or without, his teacher girlfriend and so the cycle goes round continuing under the hovering twin menaces of poverty and rural entrapment set in a landscape of beauty. Will Tom escape or be defeated by the land and the hard work, just as his grandfather was?

Reaper by Thomas Bewick
Peter Hall's film Akenfield made use of a scene
depicted in Thomas Bewick's 1797 A History of British Birds.
A reaper finds he has just killed a partridge sitting on her nest.

Another highly-detailed Thomas Bewick woodcut.

Tempus Fugit.

 

 From time to time, one hears older people musing gently, or even sadly, on the speed of time passing and this mirrors the opinion which everyone holds at various points in life, though there is an age differential here. An afternoon passes quickly if one is absorbed in a book or a hobby or an activity or an interesting job, at the age of sixty say, but if one is six, an empty afternoon is just too long to contemplate, especially if alone or waiting. Waiting is an aspect of time which is difficult for any age to accommodate comfortably, but almost impossible for the young.

The ancient Romans had profound insights into the fleeting nature of existence. Latin quotes about time passing have endured for centuries, reminding us that every day moments slip away irretrievably. These timeless phrases, often inscribed on sundials, clocks, and monuments, capture the essence of life’s transience. Whether you’re seeking motivation to seize the day or reflect on the inexorable march of the clock, exploring Latin quotes about time pasing offers deep wisdom that resonates even today.

Tempus fugit.

1. 'Tempus Fugit' The meaning? Life is short; don’t waste it. Reflect on how quickly the years pass and let the motto ‘tempus fugit’ motivate you to pursue passions or settle arguments before time passes you by.

2. Carpe Diem; Horace’s ‘Carpe Diem’ is iconic, urging us to pluck the day like ripe fruit. Tied to time passing swiftly, its meaning is ‘Focus on now, not distant tomorrows’. Time passes quickly; harvest today’s joys and enrich your life.

3.Memento Mori; This links directly to time passing rapidly and and reminds us of our own mortality. Time is finite; death awaits. Knowing life ends makes present moments precious. Live, fully aware that time passes toward an inevitable close. As Virgil and Horace knew, awareness of fleeting moments and enjoying them, enriches life profoundly.

The Latin phrase for ‘pass the time’, is ’vivo' In fact, in Latin, vivo literally means, ‘'I live’ but it is used idiomatically to convey the idea of occupying oneself while one waits, by doing not too much or by patiently repeating some familiar, repetitive action which does not need too much thought, like knitting, or digging or building. This manoeuvre rejects the Roman perspective that living actively or engaging in daily activities is exactly how one 'passes time.' Interim agere' is the Roman phrase for that. 

Seneca, the Greek philosopher

Meanwhile 'Agere tempus' suggests occupying time in another, perhaps desultory even mindless, way, can fill the time waiting. Tempus fugit is such a common expression, always uttered with the correct, precise meaning by ordinary people with no claim to classical scholarly knowledge or study. We all know what the phrase means because its common use to emphasise the swift passage of time is so familiar to us. The concept of time’s relentless passage fascinated Roman poets and philosophers like Virgil, Ovid, Horace, and Seneca. Their words on how time flies or devours everything, offer timeless guidance and are intended to encourage mindfulness, resilience and purposeful living. As Virgil and Horace knew, conscious awareness of fleeting moments can enrich life profoundly. Such experiences inspire action, gratitude and resilience.

 

   

Horace

    Endure, and keep yourselves for days of happiness. Virgil

Rejoice while you are alive; enjoy the day; live life to the fullest."  Horace

Pompeii

 

Many perished during sleep.

Plaster casts of victims, made in 1961

The ruins of Pompeii were initially uncovered in the late 16th century when the architect, Domenico Fontana, was commissioned to dig a canal near the Sarno River some time in 1592. During this work, fragments of buildings, inscriptions and frescoes were discovered though their significance was not recognised at the time, and the discoveries were largely ignored. Early digging in the area was often haphazard and focused on treasure hunting so that it was not until 1748 that formal excavations were begun, spurred on by the recent findings at nearby Herculaneum in 1738/48, where excavations had gradually revealed streets, houses and public buildings preserved under volcanic ash. Its historical importance was confirmed with the discovery of an inscription in 1763 definitively identifying the site as Pompeii. Although discovered in the 16th century most of the scientific research on what was effectively a prosperous Roman seaside town, has been relatively recent, particularly during, and since 1961.

Plaster cast of child victim of the eruption

It has been estimated that around 2,000 people perished in the Mount Vesuvius eruptions in Pompeii and nearby towns, though archaeologists now believe that many more had escaped than originally thought. The terrible event has been studied extensively, in part because of the remarkable preservation of many features of Roman life found beneath the layers of ash and pumice and, in addition, many witnesses who survived, also left written accounts of the calamity which have sparked continuing interest.

2000 year old small metal surgical instruments
recently uncovered in the leather bag of
a medicus.

One area extensively excavated during 1961 has been dubbed the Garden of the Fugitives when plaster casts were made from the voids left in the ash by the bodies of the volcano's victims; around 104 in total. Within one of these plaster casts a small case made from 'organic material', probably leather, was found although the case's contents had remained a mystery. This current investigation, using X ray and CT scans, has now revealed that the case contained several small metal instruments thought to be surgical tools and a slate tablet probably used for preparing medicines such as honey, wine, vinegar and plant extracts. The case was locked with a mechanism based on a toothed wheel. The man accompanying this medical kit was probably a medicus trained in medicine and surgery, possibly planning to treat people affected by the eruption, or perhaps hoping to escape the worst and rebuild a new life, thanks to his profession. He was carrying a small fabric bag containing bronze and silver coins which again points to the notion of escaping to make a new life, elsewhere. Educated Greek slaves had sometimes filled this role of medicus, but by the time of the Vesuvius eruption, when Titus was the Roman Emperor, medicine had gained a higher status. The practice of medicine had become valued by wealthy Romans though the ultimate stage of surgery, a life-saving operation, did entail serious risks. There were no antibiotics or anaesthetics and patients often died from subsequent infections. In addition, the causes of illnesses were not well understood; diseases like malaria were thought to be caused by bad air (the Greek 'miasma' theory) and Roman medical treatments and solutions often dealt with the superstitions of supposed curses and malign spirits which were powerful and greatly feared.

Roman surgical practice.

Other artefacts found with the victims of Mount Vesuvius include house keys and  oil lamps while some who died had been carrying precious jewels and purses of gold money; clearly, their most treasured possessions, as they sought to escape the eruption and establish new lives. Today, Pompeii is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most significant archaeological sites in the world with ongoing excavations continuing to reveal new insights into Roman life..

There are many casts of people in the last moments of
their lives in the Garden of The Fugitives.
These casts portray victims in all their tender and heart-breaking
vulnerability, doomed to die but caught for posterity in their final struggles. 

Garden of the Fugitives today.
UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Roman Shipwreck Found off Sicily

Ancient map of Sicily

Amphorae on the seabed around the shipwreck, scattered there 
over 2000 years ago.

 Palermo police diver navigating and probing
near the submerged vessel.

 A 2100-year-old Roman shipwreck has been discovered about three miles off the coast of Mazara del Vallo, in Sicily, offering a remarkable glimpse into an ancient Mediterranean trade. The wreck was first noticed by underwater fisherman and free diver, Giacomo De Mola, who spotted an unusual shape on his boat’s sonar scanner. Intrigued, he dived down to the spot indicated at a depth of 46 metres and discovered what had been a Roman merchant vessel which had measured roughly 21 metres by six metres together  with a vast expanse of amphorae scattered around the wreck on the seabed. Clearly the wooden vessel, which had been likely preserved for two thousand years by being submerged below the sand and mud, had been transporting the amphorae, the tall cylindrical clay jars made in North Africa and traditionally used to transport wine across the extensive trade networks of the Roman Mediterranean. De Mola immediately alerted the Sicilian Region’s Superintendent of the Sea and Italian authorities, including the cultural heritage protection unit of the Palermo police which have documented the site, calling it a significant underwater archaeological discovery which must be protected.     

Roman amphorae, still serviceable.

The wreck is considered exceptionally well-preserved with the ceramic amphorae largely intact after more than two millennia on the seabed. Researchers plan to continue mapping and studying the site to reconstruct the ship’s archaeological context and ensure its preservation. Roman shipwrecks like this one, in the Mediterranean, indicate that Roman maritime commerce reached its peak between 100 B.C.E. and 100 C..E. Beyond the Mediterranean Sea, Roman ships sailed on European rivers like the Rhone, the Po and the Tiber and may even have traversed the Nile. Trade ships often carried grains and oils as well as wines along with building materials like lumber and marble plus olive oil and preserved fish, all usually transported in clay amphorae.

Carabinieri exploring and notetaking around the wreck

This remarkable find not only enriches current understanding of Roman maritime history but also highlights Sicily’s historical role which occupied a strategic position at the centre of Mediterranean trade routes connecting commercial networks across Southern Europe, North Africa and the wider Mediterranean.  It also underscores the potential for further underwater archaeological discoveries in the Mediterranean.

 

Post Script

The discovery also offers a unique opportunity to study the marine ecosystem that has developed within and around the wreck, which now hosts species such as moray eels and dusky groupers, the latter being deep-bodied fish found generally in the Mediterranean and the Eastern Atlantic. 

Dusky Grouper

Thinking Back at 92.

Probably our birthday. 
1951. 11,15,17.

July 1941, Front lawn, 14, Lindhurst
Lane, Mansfield, with Dad.
Ages: 1,5,7.

Averil, possibly 1936/7
Before I started wearing specs.

I have just been skimming over some of my blogs and finding such interesting little essays which I had forgotten having written! I wanted to find the blog I knew I had composed about our birthdays, that is, July 28^th, the joint birthdays of Esme, born 1936, Heather, born 1940 and me, born 1934. I always think of my sisters at this time of year, and wish they were still here with me, particularly Heather, as she and I had such a long and strong friendship, with so much in common. And each year I wonder how it was that I survived, i.e. lived, longer than they did; what it was that happened to me and not to them to account for that. I was the only one of the three sisters who had been ill quite a lot in infancy. We suffered similar alarms and anxieties from our father’s strict regime and unpredictable temper, though Heather, six years after me, less so. She was so much younger than us, arriving at a time when he was physically weaker and older, with fewer temptations beckoning from the world outside family. He had given up cigarettes, alcohol, going to the pub and the ‘races’ and also, women, as far as could be ascertained.

In fact, probably my 90th!

And so .... my 92nd has come and gone with me in reasonable state for a nonagenarian, though the atrial fibrillation does tend to make me breathless during exertion! The memory is OK, though fraying at the edges, while the outer appearance is gradually crumbling despite restorative attempts and disguise. All in all, the verdict is ‘Could be worse’ which sounds self-congratulatory but is more self-reassurance! Meanwhile, as part of the doomed efforts to keep looking as I did ten years ago, I acknowledge that time cannot linger, while the waist proceeds to thicken and the hair to thin.

Emily Bronte, from a painting by brother
Bramwell.

No doubt triggered by my recent birthday, I have reminisced several times, quietly to myself, over Birthdays Past, remembering so many pleasurable occasions, though the other less-than-pleasant memories do seem to be inevitably stronger. I recently read in the current Literary Review, Emily Bronte’s lines in an untitled lyric poem she wrote at 21in the Autumn of that year, (1837) in a sad commentary on her life:

“This dark night has won me/ To wander far away/ Old feelings gather fast upon me/ Like vultures round their prey. “

Some of 'the gang'. During my 
growth spurt at perhaps 12 or 13.

My memories are not vulture-dark and overall, the childhood I recall was full of happy hours with two sisters and a mother I loved who tried so hard to protect us from our father, and give us all she could. I fondly recall the carefree play with the gang of boys with whom we shared imaginative games and unthinking hours of just being together. But life was lived beneath a canopy of fear at times, though mostly, it was just watchful apprehension which needed to be maintained. Once, we had all been playing ‘in the wood’ next-door to our house, our main playground, and as we wandered homeward, I carelessly and completely untypically, broke a piece off the log fence of the garden opposite our house. I had no idea why I had done it, but it was on the spur of the moment and didn't seem to involve any thought about what I was doing. The fence belonged to the retired Superintendent of Police with the big car, whom I didn't know but of whom we were much in awe.  I was horrified when the voice of his unseen wife shouted, “You naughty girl. I’m going to tell your father.” Heart thudding against ribs, I desperately tried to apologise. When Mrs. Superintendent, outraged, arrived at the scene of her fence desecration, one of the boys just said, briefly,to her, “He'll kill her!"

All girls together in 1945, with friend Pamela.

She didn’t speak as Esme and I crossed the lane to go home but strangely, we never did hear any more of it and after several days, I stopped worrying though I took care to avoid the neighbours opposite whose fence henceforth  remained beyond even my psychological reach!

Family party, possibly an end of war celebration, 1945.

Mum, born April 1902, in 1952.