Sheila Hancock truly drew me alongside her beginning with her description of time spent in Scotland filming while climbing the mountain Suilven:
“Throughout my long life I have had a few experiences that have shaken me to the core of my being transcendental, revelatory. This was one. I did not feel diminished, a tiny human in this vast world; I felt part of it, absorbed, embraced, part of Nature. I felt I belonged to this wild, bleak, magnificent place. My body had lain against the mountain’s cliff face, I’d clung to it with my hands, trusted my feet on its stones, and it had befriended me.”
Then, literally, hours before reading Sheila’s words, I'd had a conversation with a friend of a similar age as Sheila who told me of her childhood pastime of looking for shrapnel on local bombsites, so imagine my astonishment when I read that: “As a child whose playground was bombsites, [Sheila] was more thrilled by collecting shrapnel, machine-gun bullets, shells and bomb fragments than posies of wildflowers.” Next time I saw our friend I read this passage out loud to her much to her enjoyment.
Sheila spoke out about her desire to remain in the European Union prior to the Brexit vote. She writes, “I am fairly certain my dad, like me, would have rejoiced to see a united Europe based on liberal principles.”
“Surely it’s only by working together that we can resolve the huge problems of inequality and poverty, the mass movement of populations […] with commitment and will, we could’ve made something wonderful.”
As Brexit is now in our rear mirror what we’re seeing is a country further divided. Sheila writes that “Many of the liberal values we fought for are now ridiculed, kindness and respect for minorities has become ‘political correctness gone mad,’ and racism and anti-Semitism are on the rise.” I agree with her and it's truly chilling.
I loved her reminiscence on the making do and mending of clothing. I have a treasured darning ‘mushroom’ and I use it too! When Sheila couldn’t afford to buy a ‘sloppy joe sweater’ that were in fashion at the time due to her meager income as a student at RADA her “Mum’s trusty knitting needles did the job and [Sheila] still, to this day relish[es] its baggy warm embrace.”
Sheila writes “My evolution into a proud European took time.” When her husband John Thaw died in 2002 they had lived in Provence, France for twenty-five years. Their home has a rural setting “surrounded by lavender and cherry orchards.” She thought about selling up in her grief at John’s death; however, she found that she needed the “uncomplicated empathy of her French neighbours.”
Sheila confesses to being “slightly obsessive about beds.” She also writes: “in theatrical digs, I have shared beds with fleas, bedbugs and the occasional cockroach.”
About aging, Sheila writes, “I opened a wing of an old people’s home where ancient folk were mumbling to themselves, shuffling around on Zimmers, and the matron told me they were excited about my visit because ‘You’re their generation, aren’t you?’”
What she says about aging as a parent resonated with me: “I’m not sure when the role of mother changes from being in control to taking a back seat. As a self-reliant, proactive person, it is not a situation I relish. It coincides with being ignored by waiters and bartenders, and not being expected to join the cast and crew for a drink after a day’s shooting.”
Final thought on aging: “One of the hardest things as you get older is admitting defeat.”
Sheila writes of her daughter’s battle with breast cancer, losing Billie, and being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and says, “The strong can recover from the wounds of life, but some never find the way to heal.” I found her to be truly empathetic of others.
She wonderfully describes Queen Elizabeth II as, “A frumpy, tiny, stalwart figure that fills me with love. A good woman.” She adds, “I will feel less safe when she goes.” Me too.
About the then, Prince Charles: “I find him to be surprisingly knowledgeable about his less privileged subjects, and he has done many imaginative things to help them. He is well informed and, like his mother, utterly dedicated to his job. He can also be self-deprecating and very funny.”
About preparing for eventual death, “I am erasing my human animal tracks.” By this she means disposing of “diaries and letters,” and other possessions, “and refusing any more gifts,” so that there is less to take care of after her death. It’s truly hard to refuse any more gifts – I try but I don’t want to hurt people’s feeling or appear to be a grumpy old woman!
When Sheila was trying to explain the class system to her grandchildren, she said that “The working class obey orders, often to their cost, and the upper class do what they choose.”
She added, “The upper class know they can get away with a certain moral laxity, legal tax-dodging, that sort of thing, whereas the working class know that if they do not sign on for their benefit at the right time they won’t get the money, and if they are caught shoplifting they will be sent to prison, rather than for a course of psychotherapy. The upper class are confident they are right.”
In 2008, Sheila wrote about “the horror of reality television.” She thought the programme Donald Trump hosted was ‘sickening’ and that “This nasty, tacky man, with his silly blow-dried hair and slack mouth, was being treated like a god.” She was “very angry with the nasty Mr Trump, and all the trashy new values foisted upon us.”
She added that “our moral compass has gone awry. We seem to be choosing personalities, celebrities, madmen to lead us.” So true, yet I still have hope.
Sheila asks, “Why do they [my countrymen] continually trumpet a pride in being an island race that stood alone’?” and answers, “Actually, we didn’t. We had a lot of help.” However, “We are stuck in some mythical past.”
She goes on to write, “I believe our political system is redundant. It is out of date and has failed us. I no longer trust it to function on behalf of everyone.”
I was interested in what Sheila had to say about how Covid was dealt with in the UK, as I was living in the US at the time. She wrote particularly about the isolation during Covid especially for the elderly and she had been labelled as extremely vulnerable.
“One of the awful sadnesses is the way the virus has forced us to deal with death.” Instead of dying with your loved ones around you feeling their warm embrace, people die in isolation except for nurses covered from top to toe in PPE. “The ultimate cruelty.”
The British government came up with slogans for Covid such as, “Stay at home; protect the NHS.” However, this made Sheila feel wary as:
“Hitler recommended in Mein Kampf that short slogans should be used to appeal to ‘the primitive sentiments of the broad masses…These slogans should be repeated until the very last individual has come to grasp with the idea that is being put forward.’ One of his favourites was ‘Germany first.’” This put me very much in mind of Trump’s 'America first.'
I loved her thoughtful excursion into rules and rule breaking. She asks questions such as, ‘Is the pandemic making us too compliant?’ She adds that “For mankind to survive there have to be laws and rules, but these must be constantly tested and challenged and improved upon.”
Peaceful protesting, questioning – asking the ‘Why’ questions, not just following the herd. These actions “could lead to anarchy, but without it you have slavery and stasis.”
I like what she says about ‘closure’ and our current obsession with it. She is baffled as she doesn’t believe that there is such a thing as closure. Instead, she believes “It is the ongoing adventure of living that nothing is irrevocably ended.”
On a trip to London with her granddaughter Lola, they walk around Parliament Square in London and come across several statues, the one that excites them most is of Millicent Fawcett – a suffragist, who Sheila describes as “quietly campaigning persistently, at the same time supporting her blind husband in his liberal political endeavours.”
“Dogged Millicent Fawcett spent her whole life fighting in campaigns for many causes – against child abuse and the appalling concentration camps for families of the Boers, and in favour of higher education for women and fair treatment of prostitutes.” I feel I must read more about this remarkable woman.
In January 2021, Sheila was deluged with fan mail and letters of congratulations upon the announcement of her DBE award (Dame of the British Empire). She writes that, “It was like reading one’s own obituary but doubtless a lot more loving than the real one will be.”
I found the description of the Van Gogh painting she has on the walls of her house in France very moving. It’s of a dark tangle of trees with a tiny odd-looking couple facing “deep in colourful, burgeoning undergrowth with no route through it.” She quotes John Thaw as saying, ‘That definitely is us. Lost in the woods but it is still beautiful, kid,’ on their last visit to France together.
About education: “My granddaughter has been involved in writing letters to schools, requesting them to change the curriculum into something more accurate. Great Britain has a proud history in many ways, and no harm will come to it by facing the bad bits."
She adds that she "was impressed, when [she] went to Berlin to see so many schoolchildren being taken round the Holocaust Memorial and other museums illustrating their country’s Nazi past.” I was impressed by these things also when I visited Berlin, so this too, resonated with me.
Sheila’s grandson Jack is a teacher. They talk about the current state of education. “The pandemic has revealed to the public the huge divisions and injustice in our education system.” Sheila’s ideal is stated above a teacher’s portrait at Eton. It states: “The excellence of a teacher is to identify differences in talent.”
Sheila writes that “All children are gifted in some way and should have their particular skills recognized and valued.”
She believes all children “should receive an Eton-standard education in their very skilled jobs, as well as the lifestyle delights like art, music and sport to give quality to their lives.”
Rather than money, fame, or even her damehood, Sheila thinks the most important thing in life is to have “passed on something that will contribute to the future.”
I loved how she ended her book by writing: “Never has there been more need for each and every one of us to take off our gloves, and reach out to support each other, to make sure that ‘what will survive of us is love.’”
“Love of all the creatures, the brilliance, the beauty, the overwhelming magnificence of this well-worth-saving planet on which I have been privileged to exist for eighty-eight years.”