Carol’s Comments (group member since Oct 25, 2014)

Carol’s comments from the Devon Book Club group.

Hecate's Moon is a compelling tale of mystery, romance and witchcraft set in North Devon and Alsace during the French Revolution. It is the sequel to Storks in a Blue Sky, winner of the David St John Thomas Fiction Award, also set in North Devon and Alsace, but can stand alone. A treat for Halloween!

Also late to the party. I have finally finished writing 'I, Lafayette' a narrative non-fiction in the form of an autobiography. Lafayette recounts his life, tracing his path through three revolutions, the Napoleonic years and the Restoration. We see what he sees; we experience events as he experiences them; we know only what he knows. Factual, detailed, often dramatic, historically accurate, Lafayette's conversations, thoughts and actions are always referenced from original sources in English and French. The present tense ensures a vividness of time and place. It is history, but it is happening now.
A son of the wild Auvergne, Lafayette wants to follow in the footsteps of Vercingetorix who took up arms for the liberty of all. He sees Washington as his adopted father and the United States as his adopted country; in death he has his grave covered by earth from Bunker Hill.

Have just finished Camara Laye's The African Child. A very moving autobiographical account. It was written in 1954 when Camara Laye was studying in France. He wanted to stay where he was in Africa but knew his education would take him far away.

Here is a translation of the The Albatross by Baudelaire. He is one of my favourite poets- when I was younger I read and reread Les Fleurs du Mal many times. Originally banned, the collection of poems has long been celebrated as one of the finest works in French literature.

Often to amuse themselves, the crewmen
Catch albatrosses, vast seabirds
Which follow, indolent companions of the voyage,
The ship gliding on the bitter gulfs.

Hardly have they put them on the deck,
When these kings of the azure
clumsy and ashamed,
Pitifully let go their great white wings,
like oars dragging alongside them.

This winged voyager, how awkward and weak he is!
He, once so beautiful, he's so funny and ugly!
A crewman teases his beak with the stem of his pipe
Another mimes, limping the handicapped bird which once flew!

The Poet is like this prince of the clouds
Who haunts the tempest and laughs at the archer;
Exiled on the ground, in the midst of jeers,
His giant wings keep him from walking.

Here is a beautiful poem/prayer from the Ute people of North America. It brings a sense of calm, I feel.

Earth, Teach me...

Earth teach me quiet- as the grasses are still with new light.
Earth teach me suffering- as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teach me humility- as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth teach me caring- as mothers nurture their young.
Earth teach me courage-as the tree that stands alone.
Earth teach me limitation- as the ant that crawls on the ground.
Earth teach me freedom-as the eagle that soars in the sky.
Earth teach me acceptance-as the leaves that die each fall.
Earth teach me renewal- as the seed that rises in the spring.
Earth teach me to forget myself- as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me to remember kindness-as dry fields weep with rain.

I think he wrote in the 19th century but the Haiku tradition goes back to at least medieval times, I believe.

Another one, this time by Issa, which I find humorous, although I am not sure it was meant to be.

Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house,
casually.

People often find Haiku very calming. I think that is particularly true of some of the Chinese and Japanese celebrated Haiku writers.

In 2013, 5 Haikus were attached to the Mars Atmosphere and Volatile Evolution Mission (MAVEN). Here are two of them:

Thirty-six million
miles of whispering welcome
Mars, you called us home.

by Vanna Bonta.

It's funny, they named
Mars after the God of War
Have a look at Earth.

by Benedict Smith.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the English Romantic poet, lived here in Torquay for several years and unfortunately her brother was drowned in the bay. Here is : Sonnet 43. How Do I love thee?


How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach , when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

To cheer us all up; The Owl and the Pussy Cat by Edward Lear:

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!"
How charmingly sweet you sing!"
O let us be married! Too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig , are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away and were marred next day
By the turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And, hand-in-hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

So many famous lines in it. 'No man is an island' which we have heard often quite recently in connection with Brexit, and also 'for whom the bells tolls', the title of Hemingway's novel.

Here is one of my favourite poems by John Donne.

No Man is an Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Strangely, the ghastly Covid has been slightly helpful to wild life as there are less people on the move, so enabling animals to venture out more into spaces previously monopolised by humans and their vehicles. Chernobyl, of course, has become quite a wild life sanctuary following the nuclear disaster there and the evacuation of humans.

Delighted you have birds in your garden, Lorna. In all bird species in Britain populations have declined by 6% since 1970. Across the planet 40% of bird species are in decline. Have never forgotten reading Rachel Carson's Silent Spring all those years ago. Even in my small garden the lack of birds has been noticeable. About 20 years ago we had a flock of about 40 sparrows. Now we are lucky if we see one. As to remembering my childhood in the 40s and 50s, birds and other creatures were everywhere in the North Devon countryside. Now so few are left.
I remember my father pointing out to me about 300 butterflies on his buddleia bush (known as the butterfly bush) about 20 years ago in his garden overlooking the spectacular stretch of coast opposite Hangman. In his last years there we would see perhaps just one or two butterflies on the same bush. An incredible transformation has taken place in our countryside which has, on the whole, been very little remarked on and which seems unlikely to revert back to how it was.

Ian wrote: "DrMama wrote: "Hi Carol,
Sorry! I have not been on here for weeks: too much happening after months of quiet reading, research and writing ... plus knitting & sewing. One of the perils of living in ..."
Have seen the photos on FB. Hope your Mum has properly settled in.

DrMama wrote: "Hi Carol,
Sorry! I have not been on here for weeks: too much happening after months of quiet reading, research and writing ... plus knitting & sewing. One of the perils of living in Devon, I guess...."

I have only just seen your reply, Carole, as Ian's posting came through which I looked at and then saw yours. I can understand your reticence to mention the name of the person you are writing a biography on. I was the same with Lafayette but then threw caution to the winds as there are already quite a few biographies of him (which have mistakes on nearly every page) and also it has taken me so long, and is so detailed, it doesn't seem likely anyone could write it quickly. (over 5 years now). Also, you need to be able to read the original sources in French, which eliminates quite a few people). My biography is written differently to any others have seen. I am writing it in the first person and in the present tense. It is more difficult to do that but it makes the words come more alive. It is also slightly restricting as everything is seen from L's viewpoint and from when he knew it, rather than when it necessarily happened. Interested to hear more about yours. Sometimes it helps to have someone else to talk to when there are writing problems. People who do not write do not always understand.

I loved 'Where the Crawdids Sing,' one of the best books I have ever read. The author really knows, and has an obvious love of, the flora and fauna of the region she writes about. 'The Walker's Guide to Outdoor Clues and Signs' sounds very interesting. So much of our plants and creatures has disappeared. Such a difference now to how the Devon countryside was even in my childhood 70 years ago. So many more flowers then. So many little animals in the hedgerows and fields. Blackberries everywhere at this time of year which we would pick. Then, after bottling, we would eat them for the rest of the year. Mushrooms, as well, in the fields and on Exmoor which we would take home and eat with bacon and laver.

DrMama wrote: "I am mainly reading non-fiction Working: Researching, Interviewing, Writing by Robert A, Caro a wonderful biographer. I am writing biography and felt that this would help to keep me..."
What biography are you writing, Carole? I am still writing a biography of Lafayette. I have been doing the references since Xmas. I also find it difficult to read fiction when writing. Non-fiction is OK but fiction has to be very good to hold my attention and often seems rather insubstantial. Historical fiction is also rather difficult if it is about real people from the past, as then the author's view can intrude too much. It is fiction, after all, although written within the confines of real people's actions and events.

Jordan wrote: "Finished the Hitch 22: A Memoir audiobook today.
Unfortunately found it quite underwhelming as I was hoping it would have more information about his personal life. Instead, he talks ..."

I had never heard of Hitch-22. Have always liked Christopher Hitchens right from the first time I saw him at a political meeting in the dim and distant past, when he entered the room wearing an enormous cavalier-type hat. A very striking presence and a sharp wit. It's strange that the two brothers, Peter and Christopher, should be so intellectually stimulating and interesting to listen to, whilst being worlds apart politically. His early demise has been a great lack to political analysis and social comment, I feel.
Have read Thomas Jefferson by Christopher Hitchens. An interesting and well written book.