Messiah

My wife and I attended a performance of Handel's Messiah at St Nicholas's Church, Kenilworth on Tuesday. What at an exalted experience! I had heard only snatches of the piece before  and can well understand why the composer lost all sense of time and space during its composition. And no wonder the King spontaneously got to his feet during the famous chorus!

We both enjoyed the evening and the wonderful setting and there was an extra bonus at the end. I thought I spied an old friend and colleague in the bass section of the choir. But surely not? It's been nearly 50 years and he lives in Yorkshire. That cannot be the chap who fell off his bike in exhaustion after we had almost completed a round trip from Leeds to Scarborough in 1963. But a quick referral to the programme confirmed that the man was indeed Barrie Leadbeater, one time employee of the Leeds and Holbeck Building Society and distinguished Yorkshire cricketer and coach. 

After the applause, I made myself known and we relived every turn of the pedals up Garrowby Hill. Miraculously, Barrie know lives in Kenilworth so we will meet for a pint... and I'll ask him if he still owns a bike?   

Christmas in the Mountains

For the first time ever, I shall spend Christmas away from home or the home of relatives, the idea of renting a house in the mountains, a neutral venue with no expectancy on me as a host or a guest, being very appealing and liberating. An open invitation has been extended to all the family, the only impostion being 'to bring yourselves' free from all the usual accoutrements of Christmas.

We shall journey to Snowden caring not that Christmas dinner might have to be procured from a tin - what fun! - knowing that good companionship, a roaring log fire, a tumble of precious books and the opportunity - if the sun peeps between the peaks - of a breathless hike is all. 

I travelled to Ireland this summer and tried to climb its highest mountain, the waterfalls and the midges of Tarrantouhill defeating me. Hope it's a little less drenching on Snowden!

Great War - Anniversary 2014

I've just completed a manuscript - Coventry in the Great War - for publication in 2014. The book will commemorate the outbreak of the war on 4th August 1914 and the centenary of the event.

I knew nothing about the war when I began my research. Not a word about the conflict was uttered by teachers at my school. I knew more about Bosworth Field than the Somme, only war memorials in towns and cities prompting interest. 

In carrying out research for the book, I've been captivated and appalled in equal measure, the manipulation of young minds, the hysterical swell of patriotic fervour and the demonisation of the enemy being truly shocking. I've discovered resistant voices in the darkness warning of the dark abyss ahead, one lone MP reminding his braying audience that no war was ever just. One hundred years on, no observer can read the accounts of the wholesale slaughter without shivering with revulsion. Statistics shower the mind like shrapnel. In just one offensive, allied troops gained a few hundred yards, suffering more casualties in a few days than the combined British armies that conquered India and Canada. I found the accounts to be truly upsetting but one awful story really laid me low. Over 100 men were shot at dawn for various misdemeaners, one 14 year old boy who had lied about his age so he could join up being executed because he refused to wear his muddy cap! 

Back home in Coventry, the workforce toiled like slaves, thousands of young girls filling shells with high explosives. Encrusted with explosive yellow powder, they risked not only their complexions, some dying in hideous accidents, others fading away with diseased lungs. 

I've plotted the four and a half years of the conflict, reflecting on the changing mood of the people which is encapsulated in the lyrics of the popular songs of the period, jaunty jingoistic words about king and country giving way to tortured laments describing lonely mothers and widows and mouldering corpses.

I've tried to take a balanced and honest perspective of the conflict, hoping that in some small measure my narrative can contribute to the work of Coventry which is now known throughout the world as the City of Peace and Reconciliation.        

The Sun's Never Shone Brighter

I've just enjoyed tea and cake with an elderly neighbour who quietly articulated his childhood memories of life in Nazi Germany and his subsequent escape to England as a Kinder Transport evacuee, his gentle, non-bitter and grateful narrative focusing a searchlight on the magnified difficulties of our coping with 21st century living.

After the infamous attack on a Jewish orphanage in 1939, a handfull of caring people across the world were spurred to action, agitation in England particularly by the Quaker movement, raising funds and persuading the Govenment of the day to decisive action. The logistics of bringing hundreds of children to the UK were quickly put into place, trains and ships eventually bringing 10,000 youngsters to camps in Kent for eventual settlement with families across Britain and eleswhere.

It's very difficult to imagine the pain of a mother parting with her little child on the platform of some smoky station - one woman put her daughter into a carriage three times - fearing that they might not see them ever again. And it's difficult to comprehend how the heirs of Baron Von Richtofen could have strafed the last child-crammed ship as it left harbour in occupied Europe for the haven of Dover.

Despite the calls for international action by the US President and the good intentions of a vacuous conference in France, very few children were welcomed beyond the British shores, the isolationist USA turning a blind eye until the whole world plunged over the edge.

My neighbour? He was eventually reunited with his mother in England. He went to a good school and became a distinguised chemist working for the Courtaulds company. He married, spent two years in Australia and raised his own family in England. He's enjoyed his life - enjoying it still at 80 years of age - and he's proud of his roots and his native language - joining a German language group to keep the true spirit of his culture alive.

It's raining, the price of beer is increasing and Manchester United had a man red carded in the Champions League clash with Real Madrid.

But get real man. The sun's never shone brighter!   

The Complete Angler - The Spritual Creel

In a conventional publishing sense, my book - The Complete Angler - has not yet been a commercial success although I still retain hopes of further vigorous sales boosted by the production of an e-version which I hope will go on line shortly. However, I never set out to make money from the book, its gestation, research, writing and production delivering esoteric benefits far beyond the superficiality of a royalty cheque. I enjoyed every aspect of the book's genesis, preparation and publication (for the price of a meal for four at a fancy London restaurant)  knowing that free from the rigours of commerciality I could write the book I wanted to, trusting that added benefits would be wonderful and mysterious. Those added benefits are now manifesting.

I've had very little in the way of endorsement from the popular press - my book is too whimsical and abstract for the mainstream - but the comments I've had from fellow writers, academics, fishermen and environmentalists (new friends all!) have been rich and inspiring, steering me onto yet undiscovered paths where my muse will be engaged once more.

I'm working on two new titles!    

The Complete Angler - Book Reviews

Because of the unusual nature of my recently published book - The Complete Angler - and its very limited distribution,  I've encountered difficultites in interesting editors in reviewing the work. But synchronicities work in mysterious ways! Knowing that Izaak Walton's original work of 1653 inspired the Danish underground to publish their own translation just before the Nazi invasion of their country, I wrote in friendship to the Danish Angling Association sending them a copy of my book. Per Ekstrom, the editor of the magazine Lystfiskeri - Tidende has since reviewed my book, effusively and throughly underservedly saying the following: 'What is exciting now is that Len Markham has come up with an original idea that borders on genius. He has written a sequel to The Compleat Angler which suceeds admirably. For me it is the same as writing a sequel to the Bible.'

I've sent a copy of the review to the premier fishing magazine in the United Kingdom -The Angling Times - and they are interested in publishing a review. I've sent the editor a copy of my book and I await progress with interest.

There's an interesting parallel between the world of Izaak Walton and that of the Danish Resistance during War Two. Izaak wrote to counter the negativity of war and destruction at the time of the emerging Commonwealth under Oliver Cromwell. Danish patriots wanted to ring a similar bell of freedom, sounding out for freedom, sunlight, joy and friendship.

The ethos of the book continues to inspire and capture the imagination.

I will write again of further developments.