New Year Blog, 2024

 

Bronchitis

 It is about a month since my last blog; most unusual. I have been otherwise engaged, chiefly in being very ill with acute bronchitis. As my self-image is of a reasonably healthy person, I am also rather offended at this sudden descent into illness. Hadn’t realised how very quickly the normal, quietly-expected reasonable health can disappear and with such rapid negative results. In fact, I have never felt so ill! The aftermath, as is usual post-M.E. long ago, is the present prolonged fatigue and weakness. I have no desire to walk outside, even on the terrace. Little desire to do anything except rest, sit, lie! And rage, though quietly, not to waste the energy!!

The Telegraph

My week in hospital was partly passed in a haze and partly in waiting to be released!! I said, rather too often, that I was most unwilling to be a ‘bed-blocker’ and was happy to leave at any time. No one took any notice. Hospital hours are astonishingly long and empty and boring but, since returning home about a week ago, has come the discovery that, though wonderful to be back, home without the attendant energy, also boasts incredibly long and inert lonely hours of ‘doing not much’. Writing emails is occasional and short-lived before I need a rest; occasional visits from family or friends, or, the very occasional Facetime session, are manna in the desert, but infrequently so, as people do have busy lives. My dear neighbour has bought me a newspaper over the last two or three days about which I became insanely excited! I specified The Guardian or The Times but once he bought me The Telegraph!! This was an undeserved blow which caused a dent in high spirits; had to read about the Queen at Balmoral. Words fail me!

Esther Rantzen, looking amazing at 83.

Esther Rantzen has been in the news talking of buzzing off to Dignitas in Switzerland as her Stage Four lung cancer progresses; she has single-handedly re-energised a public debate about ‘assisted dying’ a cause dear to the collective heart of many elderly people. A similar plea was made by Diana Rigg three years ago as she was dying of cancer. Certainly my having to part with my Belgian permission for euthanasia when I returned to live in England, was reluctant and regretful.

Some of the reprobates in pursuit of
health perhaps.
Or  en route to the pub?

SO useful to have in one’s back pocket, as it were!! If just being ill is so boring and difficult to bear, one can only imagine the tedium of having to hang around in order to stagger through the various stages of dying. Definitely to be avoided if possible. Now, with a public/Parliamentary discussion on the cards, there will be the usual public breast-beating about the dangers of allowing euthanasia; how the elderly or mentally fragile could be bumped off for the convenience or enrichment of their nearest and dearest. So predictable and typical; not sure quite why we are so nervous of this topic; the Belgians aren’t much different from the British and they seem to manage euthanasia without the entire nation having a breakdown!! They even have euthanasia for terminally ill children which is too distressing to even write about.

Back home, determined to finish this blog, after a superb Christmas at my son’s when, unusually, on the Day, I had the luxury of all my three children and all six grandchildren around, plus partners, wives etc!! I was struck by the easy cameraderie and various joint cooking endeavours accomplished apparently without rancour or dissent. I thought quietly how lucky I am to have the family I have. Meanwhile, I did nothing except sit and rest or lie and rest as my recovery continued! Although, being with the family did mean I dipped briefly into their lives which was both interesting and delightful! As I write I hear that about half of the family party has gone down with bad colds! Nothing comes free!

And now to 2024 which will begin a little later for me this year. I am hoping the fatigue fades during January leaving me free and energetic by early Feb at the latest. I shall march on as indefatigably as usual.

Bona Vacantia

The Duchy of Cornwall

 As an unintended sequel to my previous blog on The Crown, my discovery of Bona Vacantia in the Friday 24^th Guardian [I allow myself one newspaper per week as more would mean I did nothing else!!] is astonishing! Bona Vacantia means ‘vacant goods’ and is the name given to ownerless property normally left after a death without a will. In most of England and Wales, the assets of those who die without a will, and where no identifiable relatives can be found, are transferred to the Treasury to be spent on public services, which all seems impeccable. However, under a custom rooted in mediaeval times, two hereditary estates or duchies, which belong to the Crown, can collect bona vacantia; these estates can also collect assets owned by companies at the point of their dissolution. In effect, the Treasury Solicitor acts for the Crown to administer the estates of people who die intestate (without a Will) and without known kin (entitled blood relatives) and collect the assets of dissolved companies at the point of their dissolution, and other various ownerless goods in England and Wales.

Duchy of  Lancaster

When I first read of the above, I thought what a charming relic from mediaeval times when the King really was at the pinnacle of power. It was only when I discovered more that I began to slowly give way to astonishment. One of the two bona vacantia regions is the Duchy of Cornwall; the other is the Duchy of Lancaster. Both generate income for the Crown and are, in effect, real estate empires that manage swathes of farmland, castles, hotels, offices, warehouses, shops and urban properties, including, the article claims, some of London’s prime properties. Neither Duchy pays corporation tax nor capital gains tax which confers a considerable commercial advantage, and together, both Duchies have generated for the Royal family more than £1.2 billion in the last 60 years, Since inheriting the Duchy of Lancaster from his mother, this first annual income has generated £26 million for Charles.

Queen Elizabeth and three heirs to the throne.
Charles; son Will; grandson George

Both Duchies claim that, after costs are deducted, the profit goes to charities. The Duchy of Lancaster’s website names three charities which benefit from its bona vacantia excess finance. However, its accounts suggest that only 15% of the £61million it has collected during the last decade has indeed been donated to charities. A large proportion of the profits appear to go to the renovation of commercial properties in its portfolio. This practice has accelerated since May 2020 when Policy S9 was introduced which omits mention of ‘bona vacantia’, instead, referring to special costs which can be used for the public good. Under this worthy umbrella lie the Duchy properties, the fabric of which can be restored, repaired, and protected from funds generated by bona vacantia. Under a broad definition, [broader than that for listed properties] Duchy-owned properties qualify for funds if they fit within a further seven categories including buildings in a conservation area; a site of special scientific interest; AONB [Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty]; are of local historical importance.

Lancaster House, Lancaster Gate, London.
H.Q. of the Duchy of Lancaster. The Duchy flag is shown.

Charles re-affirmed his mother’s decision to spend the assets left without wills, with the primary intention of supporting local communities; protecting the sustainability and biodiversity of the land; and care for properties in the two Duchies; this income must not benefit the Privy Purse. The primary aim is to restore and protect buildings and land on Duchy estates for future generations. Before the income from bona vacantia is available for donation to charities, money is allocated to a fund in case relatives make future claims plus any costs associated with the upkeep of public buildings and those of architectural importance, are deducted.

In the same edition of The Guardian, Maeve McClenaghan, Henry Dyer and Rob Evans had done some most effective detective work in identifying people who had indeed died intestate, with no apparent relatives and whose assets had gone to one of the Duchies. They identified one man who had died intestate leaving £230,000 and mention examples of higher sums but most inheritances are relatively small and average £12,000 according to Duchy accounts. The British Royal Family is wealthy and it appears that one small but steady income stream has gone to the Duchies via bona vacantia. The history of the Duchies is so interesting and identifies how the Royal Prerogative has benefitted the Duchies from their beginnings, as intended . In 1265 Henry 111 quashed a revolt by

King Henry 111 with Westminster Abbey in the background

feuding lords, seizing the lands of the leading rebel and donating them to his son, Edmund. These lands, mainly in the North, became known as the Duchy of Lancaster and in charters in 1399 and 1485, the then monarch stipulated that the Duchy’s profit should go to the person on the throne as should that of the Duchy of Cornwall. This power of the monarch to claim all the assets of those who died without an heir continued until 1830 when it was stopped, but with the caveat that the Duchies of Lancaster and Cornwall would retain their ancient privileges. Unbelievably, this Victorian legislation was re-affirmed in 1925 in an act of apparent rubber-stamping. Interestingly, there appears to have been no Parliamentary discussion on the subject nor is there any record of the decision in the National Archives.

Although it is true that King Charles does not personally gain from bona vacantia, his ‘business’ benefits hugely and furthermore, in a system where no appropriate tax is paid by the monarchy. It seems ridiculous that a custom dating from the 14th/15th centuries, an era of absolute monarchical power, should now legally continue to benefit the current regal incumbent! Another nail in the Royal coffin I would say.

Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.
After the overthrow of the King, de Montfort convened
the first authentic Parliament with 2 knights from each
county; clergymen; 2 representatives from each major
town and the Cinque Ports.  There was an expenses' system
to help those attending!
On January 20th. 1265 in the Palace of Westminster.

Historical background to the existence of the two Duchies.

A major rebellion against the monarch began in 1258 when  a group of barons seized the reins of government from the King and governed by a council in his name. This became known as the First Barons' War and ended with the signing of Magna Carta in 1215 by a reluctant King John. Henry III (1216–1272) came to the throne and over the next few years the country was plunged into further civil war [the Second Barons' War as Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, sought to establish control of the country. His rule was ended in 1265 in the bloody mess that was the battle of Evesham where

Here were buried the remains of Simon De Montfort, Earl of Leicester. Pioneer of representative government who was killed in the Battle of Evesham on August 4th 1265.

This stone brought from his birthplace The Castle of Montfort-Lamaury in France was erected to commemorate the seven hundredth anniversary of his death.

Oliver Cromwell who seized the two Duchies
from the Crown during his Commonwealth.

 This Montfortian revolution was the greatest assault on royal power in England before the 17th century when the English civil wars between Royalists and Parliamentarians led to the overthrow of the monarchy and the execution of Charles 1 in 1649. The Duchies and Crown lands were seized by Oliver Cromwell, and a fire sale of their assets commenced to raise money for the new Commonwealth. It was a brief interregnum when royal wealth was transferred to the nation. Parliament passed an act prohibiting the king’s heirs from holding crown property, overturning the status of Duchies as private inheritance. But the Duchies were back in royal hands 11 years later, after the restoration of the monarchy with Charles II.

The Crown

 

The Crown

 Big decision; with the arrival of the last series of the above, on Netflix, I decided to Start Again and go back to the beginning of this highly popular series, some of which I hadn’t seen anyway. I had certainly forgotten how excellent was the casting and acting; exemplary both. Beautiful costumes, gorgeous sets, timeless pageantry, a stellar cast, salacious stories, all made the earlier seasons of Netflix's The Crown appealing.[I am currently on Series 3.] I particularly like the mixture of royal personal drama and real life world events, and the principal idea of one set of actors to depict one decade or so of the monarch's life, does work well especially when on can stop oneself from comparing the actors in different series.

Claire Foy, the younger Elizabeth and 
Olivia Colman, the older Queen.

Is Helena Bonham-Carter a better Princess Margaret than ? Also, with no expertise in my spectator eyes and judgement, I had to banish queries/comments such as, “Surely ‘playing’ the Duke of Windsor is a bit of a waste of the talents of our leading actor, Derek Jacobi?”

The Duke of Edinburgh.
Matt Smith and Tobias Menzies

I also felt newly-sympathetic to the boy Charles whom one had always suspected had been sent away to, and kept at, Gordonstoun in Scotland despite its total unsuitability as a physically tough, experimental school and quasi home for a quiet, sensitive but famous child with no interests whatsoever in manly sports and rugged challenges. He did later say it had been hell for seven years and described the place as, “Colditz in kilts.” But he never publicly blamed his father for the seven year penal sentence during which the Duke of Edinburgh had vainly hoped would “make a man” out of Charles. It did remind me of a remark many, many years ago from a social worker in my family, that ‘had the Windsors been of a different social status, they would have certainly had to have had their own assigned social worker. ‘

Princess Margaret
played by
Helena Bonham-Carter and Vanessa Kirby

My interest in blogging about The Crown is not to supply an unnecessary review but rather because, as I have watched it, I have become increasingly aware of how very silly life at court, is. I haven’t really thought about the monarchy in any focussed way during my long life; I have judged and sympathised in a mildly disinterested way, with its contemporary victims, like Margaret and Peter Townsend; Charles as a boy at Gordonstoun; Diana at times, despite her own needy behaviour; and the Queen during the early marriage when rumours of inappropriate behaviour from Philip surfaced occasionally. But the Crown’s reconstruction of life at court has demonstrated the wholly outdated notion of deference [in a non-deferential age]; the army of red-uniformed footmen redolent, again, of a bygone age; the exaggerated notions of the huge importance of The Crown which has its own mysterious systems and time-honoured ways of Doing Things and Saying Things which bear no relationship whatsoever to the ways of doing and being of their subjects.

Jeremy Bentham 1748-1832
Moral philosopher; advocate for:
animal welfare; gay rights; universal
suffrage; prison reform.

While Aristotle believed monarchies were suitable for populations unable to govern for themselves and Machiavelli largely agreed, believing republics were innately able to be more flexible and adaptable than monarchies, I do find Jeremy Bentham’s view that the monarchy was an absurd institution which had established itself through force of custom, noting that, “almost all men are born under it, all men are used to it, few men are used to anything else; till of late years, nobody ever dispraised it.”

When one considers it, our Royalty:

1. Is chiefly unaccountable to the population which is why the utmost secrecy is observed in hiding unsuitable Royal behaviour or incidents;

2. Has a Head of State appointed on the hereditary principle which is undemocratic, unfair and elitist. Democratic elections are preferable.

3. Is expensive to maintain, with its many members; numerous and costly palaces; the traditional aristocratic standard of living; plus the costly and extensive Court system.

4. Still holds the Royal Prerogative which grants the Prime Minister powers to declare war or sign treaties without a vote in Parliament, the Privy Council [a body of advisers to the monarch] being able to enact legislation without a vote in Parliament.

The Privy Council of the first Elizabeth. 1602

Monarchy has existed in Britain since the Middle Ages except for the relatively brief interruption of the end of the Civil War and Cromwell’s Protectorate. After the fall of that republican government, particularly after the 1688 Glorious Revolution, a Constitutional Monarchy was established with Charles 11 which reduced calls for a republic though the idea re-surfaced publicly during both the American and French Revolutions.

Oliver Cromwell, 1599-1658
Lord Protector of the Commonwealth
Commonwealth lasted from 1649---1660.

Currently Kate and Will as they are affectionately known, would make excellent joint Presidents after the death of King Charles, effecting an effortless path to a republic from a long-established monarchy. Their eldest son would not follow them; there would be a Presidential election when anyone might stand. At least some of the palaces, carriages and cars could be sold off; the Court disbanded to be replaced by a more modest entourage. To effect this transition over a longish period, there would need to be a steering committee or group formed of a wide variety of people, not just of The Great and The Good. These suggestions need honing but we have the bones of a possible future structure here!!

Will and Kate with their family

The Autumn of Life

 

Ablaze in the Abbey Gardens

Autumn grows, autumn in everything. A lovely time of year with a hint of melancholy from time to time as the mists gather and the nights close in. I would love to have now the brilliant stove I enjoyed in Kent for around 30 years; warmth and light and welcome in one black metal box. But autumnal comforts are there in crowded bars and restaurants full of light and warmth, and in the recent over-supply of incessant rain in this, the driest part of England, have made the plants on my terrace, hold

their heads high in the unaccustomed moisture, with foliage of reds and greens flourishing in the abundant showers, hydrangea heads fading to paper and pansies lifting pretty purple faces to the grey skies! Some of the trees in the Abbey Gardens have put on a tremendously bright carapace of dying leaves, flaring with red and yellow in a final flourish. A seasonal page is turning, expected, but still surprising in its theatre.

"Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn — that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness — that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.” 

                                                                                                      Jane Austen, Persuasion

“I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colours richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and is content. From a knowledge of those limitations and its richness of experience emerges a symphony of colours, richer than all, its green speaking of life and strength, its orange speaking of golden content and its purple of resignation and death."

Lin Yutang

After all, Jane must give way. The above quote from Lin Yutang with its premonition of death, is so comfortable for me. Today came news of the death of an old friend; she was 91and indeed, had had a “golden richness” in her life's experiences, was blessed with kindly wisdom and accepted the increasing age-related limitations of life, while savouring life’s joys too. She is hugely missed by her family and friends. Importantly, elderly people feel they would like a good death, but I am increasingly of the opinion that what is really to be cherished is a good autonomous life right to the end when a good death might well follow. And if it doesn’t, well, c’est la vie! One of the joys of ageing is the insouciance which accompanies it; the inner knowledge that not much matters hugely. Generally speaking, there is little to be gained by worrying.

Savouring life in Autumn

Autumnal wandering

The Angel Inn, Bury St Edmunds in Autumnal guise.
Always associated with Dickens in my mind.

Toussaint, November 1st.

 

All Saints Day

The first of November is All Saints' Day. It is a Catholic holy day and in France it's a public holiday and a time when families  come together to visit cemeteries to remember and honour their deceased relatives. The tradition is for families to place chrysanthemums on the family graves  for la Fete de La Toussaint.

Bruges cemetery

I first lived where La Toussaint was observed when I was in Bruges which is in the Flemish part of Belgium with no French traditions, as opposed to Wallonia in the south of the country. However, many observed the tradition which is officially when the Roman Catholic Church honours its saints and people remember their dear departed. I did not know then that November 2^nd is for All Souls’ remembrance; thus these first two days honour both saints and the dear departed of individuals with their chrysanthemums. I suddenly remembered this last week when I bought and displayed a bunch of white chrysanthemums from Bury market, a floral custom never seen in a Belgian home.

By coincidence as I write this, a tract commemorating Dia de los Muertos, again, Day of the Dead, a time-honoured tradition in Mexico whose origins go back thousands of years, has popped up on my phone! This is inevitably celebrated in parts of America too, like California, 

Altar in Mexico; Dia de los Muertos

where many Mexicans live and work. Dia de los Muertos is a tribute to the afterlife, a day meant to honour those who have died and keep their memory alive. Day of the Dead starts on November 1^st and ends on November 2nd. During that time, it is believed that the spirits of the dead return home to spend time with their families. A similar celebration occurs in the Philippines where it is called Undas; in Haiti the day is called Fet Gede. There, people dress up in black, white and purple while parades are held around the country. The Day of the Dead originates from rituals practised by indigenous people in the Americas, most notably by the Aztecs who had a similar ceremony called Miccaihuiti, the time to honour the dead. When the Spanish arrived in South America bringing Catholicism, they incorporated their own La Toussaint with the indigenous traditions. In the South American tradition, people visiting relatives’ graves do not go to mourn; they go to celebrate, clean and decorate the graves, enjoy food and drink and tell stories of their dead loved ones. Sacred altars are built and photos of the beloved one displayed perhaps with personal mementoes; marigold petals are

Undas in the Philippines

also featured, meant to guide the spirits back home with their bright colour and pungent scent. Candles too, are lit, both to light the way home and to represent the departed while pan de muerto, a traditional Mexican bread, descended from the Aztec custom, is displayed. Salt, to purify, and water to quench the thirst, are also present on the altars.

There is something incredibly moving and touching about this annual Remembering, celebrated by millions of people on different continents. Writing this blog has caused me to remember my lovely sister Heather, who died two years ago and our other sister, Esme, who passed in 2017. Also, my mother whose death was such a wrenching for me in 1988. Then, my last brother, Reg, already very old, whose life finally ended soon after my move to Bruges. Childhood memories have certainly stirred and been savoured at length, thanks to this blog! There is something intensely human about vast numbers of people engaged in the same human longing and recall, offering communally, tributes and mementoes to welcome the spirits and aid the memories. History seems near and whispers from the past glimmer in the mind’s eye and ear and we experience a welcome connection with those long gone.

Part of Bury's ancient Great Graveyard

 

Our communal birthday, July 28th 1941

A rare day's outing to the seaside,
Scarborough, 1948

Brothers Joe and Reg with Esme and me plus Peter the puppy.
Summer 1937

Achieving Some Degree of Happiness

 

Seriously Gorgeous Charlie in a 
new bath robe

 I have been struck by the recent transformation of an acquaintance who has seemed to be perennially unhappy. She is autistic I think, and rather prone to unwise outbursts of opinion which would have been better left unsaid. She has upset fellow players in a games group, in a row over her imaginary, offended interpretation of harmless remarks, lightly made by others, with no intended criticism implied. She has lost touch with her children and from occasional remarks she makes, has clearly had a difficult and often sad life with failed relationships and uncomfortable, often angry, situations which have not been resolved. In addition, she has serious health issues and probably, insufficient income. I paint a sad picture and yet, this same woman is constantly helping others in kind and different ways and is often generous to others. She arranges little celebrations for the group and is careful to include everyone. But she told me recently that she awoke every day feeling unhappy, not looking forward to the day ahead and had nothing good about her life.

But there has been a transformation wrought. She has bought a most delightful, friendly, loving little dog who is young and appears to treat her as his most precious person!! He pines if she disappears temporarily; he worships at her altar with unwavering devotion and zeal and constantly reinforces the impression of her huge value to him. They give each other unconditional love. It does not take a psychologist to recognise the cause of her changed attitude and confidence; she is happy, appreciated uncritically and happily self-confident. The simplicity of this remedy belies its effectiveness in this case; perhaps a little too early to pass on this information to NHS staff and one can spot possible downsides like untimely death of afore-mentioned puppy etc.

However, the whole experience has caused me [again!] to ponder the mysterious but greatly valued state of happiness. A state of constant elation is neither desirable nor probably attainable nor is it indicative of psychological good health. We all experience negative events and feelings, but alongside these, we need a counter balance of positive experiences and feelings. I want ‘a good life’, that is, to live a fulfilled life, with rewarding relationships, recognition of my strong attributes and success in, at least, some endeavours. I need to feel good about myself first then want to show tolerance and give assistance and attention to others I meet. Not in grand gestures generally but in quotididien, small-scale yet life-affirming ways of being a better friend or neighbour.

I notice that, almost every day, I wake up happy, looking forward to the day. It has been like that for a long time and seems to be a product of my personality, but I am now noticing that, with the frailty of ageing, comes the reduced ability to be occupied in the various activities which generate pleasure and interest, particularly intellectual interest. The result of that is in increased time alone. And there’s the rub.
One has to work a little harder to find interests in the home or office, between visits to talks, films, discussions, because the demands of outside interests, activities, meetings, can gradually outstrip the available energy to attend them and so reduce participation. So, effort and determination are needed!

However, the degree of happiness any person experiences or generates, is within that person’s power to change through how he chooses to act and think. There are happiness-inducing activities and attitudes which happy people do or have, naturally, some of which any person can decide to add to his own repertoire. The following list is not prescriptive nor is it necessary to try to Do It All.

1. Cultivate optimism. The hardest perhaps to manage but the most worthwhile. Practice is required, i.e. hard work, and as much self-belief as can be gathered or visualised.

2. Express genuine gratitude to others for even the smallest remarks, deeds, kindnesses. Recognising the generosity of others gives real pleasure to the recipient and encourages altruistic behaviour in everyone.

3. Practice acts of targeted kindnesses and also random acts of thoughtfulness. This encourages the attention to move beyond oneself and to centre however briefly, on others.

4

. Do not obsess however on what others think of you, or do to you; behaviour towards you which you find upsetting or annoying, can be considered as objectively as possible. Negative events and opinions can make us stronger. Learn to forgive and forget.

5. Cultivate friends; join clubs or activities through which others with similar interests can be found and friendships develop. Make time for friends you already have and give them love and support.

6. Make efforts to truly appreciate things you do every day, like the usual lunch; a walk in the park; a regular activity like shopping. It is too easy to repetitively do the daily mundane chores or activities without consciously appreciating aspects of them, or others, involved. Look for connections with others, however fleeting. I have become a friend of a young man, half my age, who sells tribal rugs on Bury Market. We have a shared interest, though his is much more professional and informed than mine but we have a connection. That is very important to older people particularly and I look forward to our weekly chat.

                   

7. Find joy in spiritual areas like art, culture, religion. This nurtures the inner ‘you’ and contributes to your being a more interesting person to meet. It also generates positive self-feelings.

8. Physical exercise. This sounds formidable but there are degrees! I now only walk regularly and early in the day, for perhaps 30-40 minutes. But I do it every day! In earlier years, I swam for half an hour, early in the day, every day, for instance and walked for an hour most days.

9. Mental exercise. This list is long! Play games; do Su

 Maybe a walk in the park

doku or crosswords; do emails on a laptop or research a word, a meaning, aspects of daily news; organise; volunteer if you can; join clubs like book clubs etc; read every day. The list is endless. Composing this blog takes a lot of thought and mental effort to accomplish and each time I do it, I encounter positive feelings after often arduous mental verbal searching and sorting! The fact that few people read it, is not important to me; the important goal is in the composition and the satisfaction experienced, post-publication!

Post Script Comment.

The person in the first paragraph has, in fact, found a friend perfect for her; her self-esteem is nourished; she wakes up happy, looking forward to her day; she is other-centred; she attracts much positive attention with her cute little friend.

The Old Oak

Mining village in North East England

The film, The Old Oak is the story of a village in the North East of England, where the mine has closed, and people feel deserted by the system. Indeed, it has suffered forty years of political and economic disenfranchisement, virtually traumatised by the State. Many young people have left and what was once a thriving and proud community, struggles to keep old values alive while there is growing anger and resentment, plus a lack of hope. Shops are boarded up, money is scarce, divisions over the 1984 miners’ strike linger. The fact that houses there are dirt cheap and available makes it an ideal location for these to be bought and rented out for profit, to give space to newly-arrived Syrian refugees. But the locals are angry at the loss of value to them, of their houses, many bought, after long struggles, as a protection for old age and possible ill health in the future.

T. J Ballantyne and his lifeline,
Marra the little dog.

Pub landlord, T. J., tries in vain to correct the 
errant K which constantly collapses; a metaphor for
The Old Oak which is in a seriously poor state.

Exhausted Syrian refugees arriving in England

The Syrians have lost everything; most do not speak English and know nothing of English life. Their terrified arrival in this poverty-stricken community is greeted with outright hostility, racism and incomprehension. There is still a pub, the Old Oak, run by a former miner, T J Ballantyne, played by Dave Turner, but it is on its last legs, kept afloat by a bunch of disgruntled and opinionated regulars who seem to hate most of their world and all people outside it. T. J. is not a happy man; he is divorced, depressed and his only son no longer speaks to him; he manages to keep the Old Oak going as it 

Yara busy with her restored camera

gradually falls apart, but he is increasingly desperate and broke.

Into this maelstrom arrive the unexpected Syrians, one of whose number, the self-confident and articulate Yara, has a precious camera, gifted to her by her father, now missing in Syria. She loves to photograph the people around her but swiftly meets violent hostility from the locals at a ‘fucking raghead’ taking their photos without permission. Her camera is swiftly smashed, to her utmost sadness. The struggling publican, T. J., a decent man, is horrified and tries to help her; this is the beginning of a slow and careful friendship, but one which also alienates many of the villagers, whose support he needs.

An unlikely friendship develops cautiously between
Yara and T. J.

Ken Loach who directed this film, is one of my filmic heroes and I am one among millions if fans, I think. He always works with screenwriter, Paul Laverty and takes on current issues and stories often avoided by the mainstream. The Old Oak is the third film of painful and unfashionable socio-artistic subjects; his first in the trio, I, Daniel Blake, dealt with searing honesty, the brutality of benefit sanctions and the desperation fueling the rise of food banks; the second, Sorry We Missed You, the serfdom of the gig economy, and this third, The Old Oak, refugees housed all over the country being abused and attacked by locals radicalised by social media and poverty.

Ken Loach
Always, compassion for the oppressed.

While most of the working class in this bereft village behave atrociously, Loach presents them sympathetically; they are seen as much victims of market forces and global instability as the dazed Syrians. Loach is now in his upper eighties and was rumoured to be considering retirement ten years ago but mediocre ideological governments since that time, have challenged and enraged him, inducing this late burst of energy and passion in a surge of socially incisive films of great power. Perhaps his last effort.

Post Script

Loach always tries to use amateurs, not professional actors and most of the cast is amateur, like Dave Turner who plays T. J. He was a fireman not interested in being an actor and lacking any confidence in his ability to be on a film set even! Ebla Mari who plays Yara, is a theatre teacher from the Golan Heights, on the border of Syria. She is culturally and emotionally Syrian and has family there but she has never been. She says, “I am not a refugee; I live under occupation in the Golan Heights, occupied by Israel since 1967. This film is the first time I have met Syrians who actually live in Syria.”

Local boys envious of the second-hand bike delivered
by T. J. to one of the Syrian girls