It was on one of my frequent perambulations through obscure Nottingham churchyards that I noticed that almost every grave's headstone bore the inscription "In Loving Memory".
Why did everyone creating these stones think it would be a good idea to copy the inscription of virtually every other inhabitant? It's not original, it shows poor and defective thought and a lack of the true sentimentality that one would hope one's surviving relatives and friends would feel towards one post-mortem.
Personally, I can't imagine the manufacturers of headstones being responsible. After all, they've got to do a lot of carving whether or not people want to alter the standard sentence fragment. Besides, ultimate responsibility lies with those preparing the dead person's funeral.
Even if a lazy and unscrupulous funeral director did say to you, "Sorry, mate. 'In Loving Memory' or 'Gone, but not forgotten' are your only options', would you accept that? No, not if you have any regard for the recently-deceased. Instead, you launch into a semi-incomprehensible splenetic tirade, pointing out that "of course I love them (or at least want to give that impression to the other relatives and future pompous history graduates who may walk past his grave), and of course they're not forgotten. What brand of facile asininity is this, you incompetent fool?"
You may as well just write "This man/woman was alive and now they're dead. They left behind some sad people. We had some good times." At least it's more expansive. And at least it's original. There are no benefits to the standard formula. It lacks poetry and warmth.
Now, you might argue that the space for originality is underneath the "In Loving Memory". That's where you write your sentimental drivel - "The Pain of Your Passing is Eclipsed by the Warmth of the Memories You Have Given Us" - or whatever. That's where you truly demonstrate the depth of your feelings to the deceased.
No, this isn't good enough. The headstone is all that is there in the cemetery to commemorate the dead. It should be a unique testament given to celebrate a unique life. It could be blank apart from a poem (not a poem, obviously. See below) and a name, or have playful carved-doodles of phalluses, if that is part of a relevant and affectionate tribute to the person decomposing beneath. You can tailor it as much as you like, and you shouldn't be constrained by what everyone else has written first. The Loving Memory in whose name you compose your headstone can be presumed.
P.S. The one "In Loving Memory" I could bear to sanction would be:
Monday 22 August 2011
Tuesday 16 August 2011
On Poetry
You know how when people don't understand things they sometimes end up criticising or belittling them instead? I do that a lot. I'm going to do it now.* Against poetry.
But please read this disclaimer first:
I accept that poetry - the writing and appreciation of - is a noble and valuable pursuit. There is an extensive and rich cultural history of poets and poetry throughout the world, and it is written and appreciated by people who are far my intellectual, emotional and financial superiors. Many people who write poetry also write brilliant prose, and being accomplished in the art of the former is arguably conducive to excellence in the latter. Basically, anyone who would argue that poetry is in anyway irrelevant or defunct is clearly a terrible person. Good? Good.
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POETRY
So... here's an ironically-ragged collection of my dissatisfactions:
My objections tend around the form of poetry. For example, why should we reward disjointed phrases? Is it not the case that poetical phrases hang in the air because their author was unwilling or incapable of putting them into well-crafted and articulate prose? Is it any different from a shy and retiring author using a passive tone? Perhaps, in both cases, the writer cannot speak plainly and, in the case of poetry, must instead hide behind half-spoken sentiments and inconclusive strings of adjectives?
Fully-constructed sentences can be used to show everything from humour to outrage, affection to loathing. What do we gain from the use of irregular sentences except the shallow mystique which arises from obfuscation?
So then what do we lose with the astute use of full, flowing sentences? Perhaps a certain rhythm. Perhaps we don't read enough similes or metaphors. Perhaps we have less lurid description and imagery. But none of these problems are necessarily so when we make the transition from prose to verse, are they? I'm asking.
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*Despite the tone of this post, I don't feel anything negative towards those who indulge in poetry. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm jealous of them, because, to me, poetry is irrelevant, but I feel that it shouldn't be. I don't know how to appreciate it, or write it, or credit it. I write this not to mock, but as an acknoweldgement of my own inadequacies. Look, see how scared I am of poets? These caveats have taken up more space than the bit against poetry itself.
Saturday 13 August 2011
Mark Twain: The Ugly Years
I've written before about the delights of Mark Twain in his latter, misanthropic years. But now I've been studying him in a little more detail, reading a rather good biography by Ron Powers - Mark Twain: A Life. Unfortunately, as with all of one's heroes, studying Twain reveals his ugly side, his human flaws and weaknesses, which shatter the illusion that I've had of him as a faultless machine of pure satirical incision.
For example, in his early 30s, Twain became engaged to his first wife, Olivia Langdon. And he fell in love in the most clichéd and humiliating way that anyone can fall in love, complete with the worst and most offensive love-letters ever crafted, their appalling nature magnified when contrasted with his otherwise sterling verbal and written performances at the time.
Here are a few excerpts:
"Livy, Livy, Livy darling, it is such a happiness, such a pleasure, such a luxury, to write you, that I don't know when to stop."
"P.S. -- I do LOVE you, Livy!
~
P.P.P.S. -- I do love, LOVE, LOVE you, Livy, darling.
~
P.P.P.P.P.S. -- I do love you, Livy!"
"You are so pure, so great, so good, so beautiful. How can I help loving you? ... [H]ow can I keep from worshipping you, you dear little paragon?"
"I send a thousand kisses -- pray send me some."
And so on, and so forth.
Now, I value historical accuracy as much as the next graduate, but I can't help but think that Powers has done Twain a great disservice by faithfully reproducing these inane scribbles. In a new edition, perhaps he would consider striking out all references to love and replacing them with filth and bile. Mark "the truth is the most valuable thing we have, so I try to conserve it" Twain would, I'm sure, approve.
Right now, I eagerly anticipate the time, in a few years, when multiple members of his family will start perishing so that he might unlock the genius of his latter years. No one writes their best work when they're happy and complacent.
For example, in his early 30s, Twain became engaged to his first wife, Olivia Langdon. And he fell in love in the most clichéd and humiliating way that anyone can fall in love, complete with the worst and most offensive love-letters ever crafted, their appalling nature magnified when contrasted with his otherwise sterling verbal and written performances at the time.
Here are a few excerpts:
"Livy, Livy, Livy darling, it is such a happiness, such a pleasure, such a luxury, to write you, that I don't know when to stop."
"P.S. -- I do LOVE you, Livy!
~
P.P.P.S. -- I do love, LOVE, LOVE you, Livy, darling.
~
P.P.P.P.P.S. -- I do love you, Livy!"
"You are so pure, so great, so good, so beautiful. How can I help loving you? ... [H]ow can I keep from worshipping you, you dear little paragon?"
"I send a thousand kisses -- pray send me some."
And so on, and so forth.
Now, I value historical accuracy as much as the next graduate, but I can't help but think that Powers has done Twain a great disservice by faithfully reproducing these inane scribbles. In a new edition, perhaps he would consider striking out all references to love and replacing them with filth and bile. Mark "the truth is the most valuable thing we have, so I try to conserve it" Twain would, I'm sure, approve.
Right now, I eagerly anticipate the time, in a few years, when multiple members of his family will start perishing so that he might unlock the genius of his latter years. No one writes their best work when they're happy and complacent.
Thursday 11 August 2011
Pity Poor David Cameron
In the wake of the riots, there has been a false dichotomy presented amongst various commentators as to how we can or should proceed. EITHER we can pepper the looters with live ammunition and make their corpses homeless OR give them an unconditional discharge and their own radio show.
At the centre of this rather flimsy pretext is a rather elegant philosophical debate about determinism.
In the Red Dwarf episode "The Inquisitor", Rimmer, when asked to justify his existence, says, "What else could I have been? My father was a half-crazed military failure, my mother was a bitch-queen from hell. My brothers had all the looks and talent. What did I have? Unmanageable hair and ingrowing toenails. Yes, I admit it. I'm nothing. But, from what I started with, nothing is up."
A similar argument is heard referring to the recent rioters (who are, for the sake of the argument, assumed to be disaffected, poor youths with a lack of parental influence): what else could they have been, it's easy for us to say, we're very white and middle class, don't know what it's like on the street, they need their voice heard etc.
This is, of course, a valid argument. People are products of their genetics and their environment. The former they have no control over, and the latter they have little control over. The problem is that, if we follow the argument to its full extent, can we ever punish anyone? If someone comes from a broken and abusive home and in term becomes abusive, is that their fault? They can't help it, shirley. And so on, and so forth. The problem is knowing where to draw the line of personal responsibility.
(Arguably, this is also a problem with religion - if people go to Heaven for believing, what of the people who didn't have the advantage of a Christian upbringing? It's not their fault, but they're still more likely to be punished for eternity.)
The person I really pity is David Cameron. Wealthy, aristocratic family, privileged upbringing, Eton, Oxford, married to a woman from a wealthy, aristocratic family. And those genetics! Not only white, he also has the chubby baby-like cheeks of the aristocracy. I ask you, with this start in life, what else could he have been but a Tory?
What about George Osborne? Multi-million pound trust fund, privileged upbringing, middle name Gideon, a sneering face incapable of showing compassion? What else could he have been?
We should show empathy and intelligence in understanding how people's start in life can influence their behaviour and ask what we can do to promote equality in light of this. But we must be consistent. When these people dismantle or even destroy our country, we must realise that they haven't always had the same opportunities and experiences that we have. And neither have the rioters.
P.S. Overheard in a restaurant last night - news of _______'s riots filtering through to a family from that city. Children's response was concern that they would no longer be able to buy their jeans from a certain burned-out shop. The atmosphere became slightly tense and awkward after I angrily (and rather pompously) suggested that I felt a lot more concern for the people who would lose their £5.93-an-hour jobs in that shop.
At the centre of this rather flimsy pretext is a rather elegant philosophical debate about determinism.
In the Red Dwarf episode "The Inquisitor", Rimmer, when asked to justify his existence, says, "What else could I have been? My father was a half-crazed military failure, my mother was a bitch-queen from hell. My brothers had all the looks and talent. What did I have? Unmanageable hair and ingrowing toenails. Yes, I admit it. I'm nothing. But, from what I started with, nothing is up."
A similar argument is heard referring to the recent rioters (who are, for the sake of the argument, assumed to be disaffected, poor youths with a lack of parental influence): what else could they have been, it's easy for us to say, we're very white and middle class, don't know what it's like on the street, they need their voice heard etc.
This is, of course, a valid argument. People are products of their genetics and their environment. The former they have no control over, and the latter they have little control over. The problem is that, if we follow the argument to its full extent, can we ever punish anyone? If someone comes from a broken and abusive home and in term becomes abusive, is that their fault? They can't help it, shirley. And so on, and so forth. The problem is knowing where to draw the line of personal responsibility.
(Arguably, this is also a problem with religion - if people go to Heaven for believing, what of the people who didn't have the advantage of a Christian upbringing? It's not their fault, but they're still more likely to be punished for eternity.)
The person I really pity is David Cameron. Wealthy, aristocratic family, privileged upbringing, Eton, Oxford, married to a woman from a wealthy, aristocratic family. And those genetics! Not only white, he also has the chubby baby-like cheeks of the aristocracy. I ask you, with this start in life, what else could he have been but a Tory?
What about George Osborne? Multi-million pound trust fund, privileged upbringing, middle name Gideon, a sneering face incapable of showing compassion? What else could he have been?
We should show empathy and intelligence in understanding how people's start in life can influence their behaviour and ask what we can do to promote equality in light of this. But we must be consistent. When these people dismantle or even destroy our country, we must realise that they haven't always had the same opportunities and experiences that we have. And neither have the rioters.
P.S. Overheard in a restaurant last night - news of _______'s riots filtering through to a family from that city. Children's response was concern that they would no longer be able to buy their jeans from a certain burned-out shop. The atmosphere became slightly tense and awkward after I angrily (and rather pompously) suggested that I felt a lot more concern for the people who would lose their £5.93-an-hour jobs in that shop.
Monday 1 August 2011
Rules of the (trashy) Blog
I read a lot of trashy blogs. Personal blogs of people with issues. I only read them if they're well-written, so the people who write them are obviously clever people. However, when reading them, they still feel like the equivalent of watching Jeremy Kyle in trackies - low-brow, guilty voyeurism.
I'm now going to attempt to legitimise my indulgence of these blogs by pretending I've been intensely analysing them. To that end (and avoiding any observations which might identify the blogs or their writers), I've compiled a short list of the rules a person must follow in order to create a successful trashy, personal blog.
The Good
Use of culture and current issues
Like I said previously, these bloggers appear to be of a high intellectual calibre. The successful blog will demonstrate knowledge of literature, political debates or philosophy, and often frame their otherwise self-centred musings within more globally-relevant considerations.
The Bad
Constantly relating oneself to popular fiction characters
This is a tricky one. It's usually true, because popular fiction writers (of whatever medium) get to where they are by being able to encapsulate recognisable personalities. However, when this sometimes-legitimate observation is made too often, because of very slight incidental links, it begins to look a lot like unabashed egotism.
Thinking everyone cares loads about what one has to say
Okay, I'm aware that the ironymeter is creeping up here. The problem is that writing an exclusively personal blog is perhaps unavoidably egotistical. The other problem is that those with any self-awareness are conscious of this fact whilst writing their blog. Thus, they feel the need to half-apologise for their naked self-obsession whilst continuing with it. Some writers adopt a Charlie Brooker-level of self-abuse to negate further criticisms, and some power through with complete disregard for the criticism (after all, if you don't want to read about them, don't read their blog, etc.). But, for most people, the uneasy half-acknowledgement of this conflict is the best they can offer. The successful trashy blogger will apologise semi-frequently for their self-obsession.
Hints of future greatness
This is heavily tied-up with the previous point. "Why should I write a blog? Because one day, I'll be great." (Again, the ironymeter is hovering at "wry smile".) The successful trashy blogger must at all times assume that they're the next Salinger/Plath and that their blog-work documenting their early life is VITAL. One day, hordes of biographers will be scratching around, desperate to gain insight into your genius. "Please tell me she kept a notebook, a diary, anything! Shit! I've found desperatelysmiling.blogspot.com, a record of her pre-fame thoughts and feelings. Now we can give her the understanding and attention she obviously deserves." That's how the story will go. The successful blogger MUST retain this mindset, or risk annihilation.
"Nothing ever works out for me"
Why does the trashy blogger feel the need to blog? Because their life is an unmitigated disaster. Either their life is unfair and nothing goes their way, or they're predisposed to be unsuccessful because they weren't given the gift of commitment and get-up-and-go. Either way, at least documenting their lack of success will help them feel better. Maybe it'll make other like-minded "failures" make sense of their own shortcomings? Maybe the world can at least sympathise that, were things different, the trashy-blogger would be successful. And that's worth something.
The Ugly
Copious amounts of information about one's body
Are you boobs too small? Did the big girls make fun of your hairy forearms? Or, if you're a boy, did the older boys have smoother skin and bigger muscles? The successful trashy-blogger will document all such embarrassments, and post them on the famously-private Internet. Right next to that picture of you, which identifies you as the writer and curator of the blog.
Hating the cool kids whilst aspiring to be one
This is the trashy blog at its most subtle and nuanced. A cursory glance will reveal that there is no way that the trashy-blogger would try and be like them, the arch-nemesis - the boy who called you an ugly "munter" for 3 years at high school, the girl who spread that rumour about you and the caretaker's dog. The "hating" bit is pretty straight-forward. The more elusive "aspiring" part comes from the occasional longing and wistful tone, the self-conscious desire to look as much like them as possible when posing for the photo in the "about me" section, etc. Like the best of David Attenborough, it sometimes requires a lot of patient watching, but the successful trashy blogger will eventually reveal their secret aspirations.
The lack of humour
This is pretty self-explanatory. The trashy-blog isn't here to impress you, it's here to cover you in tar and let you sink into a pit of despair. Clearly, adding humour (or even an attempt at humour) would undermine this effort.
-------
Well, there we go. This has gone some way towards legitimising my observation of numerous versions of the trashy-blog. There's definitely a case for accusing BtM of being partially trashy, but I think I've definitely avoided some of the more egregious rules listed above. But tell me, what do you think? I, like, really care.
I'm now going to attempt to legitimise my indulgence of these blogs by pretending I've been intensely analysing them. To that end (and avoiding any observations which might identify the blogs or their writers), I've compiled a short list of the rules a person must follow in order to create a successful trashy, personal blog.
The Good
Use of culture and current issues
Like I said previously, these bloggers appear to be of a high intellectual calibre. The successful blog will demonstrate knowledge of literature, political debates or philosophy, and often frame their otherwise self-centred musings within more globally-relevant considerations.
The Bad
Constantly relating oneself to popular fiction characters
This is a tricky one. It's usually true, because popular fiction writers (of whatever medium) get to where they are by being able to encapsulate recognisable personalities. However, when this sometimes-legitimate observation is made too often, because of very slight incidental links, it begins to look a lot like unabashed egotism.
Thinking everyone cares loads about what one has to say
Okay, I'm aware that the ironymeter is creeping up here. The problem is that writing an exclusively personal blog is perhaps unavoidably egotistical. The other problem is that those with any self-awareness are conscious of this fact whilst writing their blog. Thus, they feel the need to half-apologise for their naked self-obsession whilst continuing with it. Some writers adopt a Charlie Brooker-level of self-abuse to negate further criticisms, and some power through with complete disregard for the criticism (after all, if you don't want to read about them, don't read their blog, etc.). But, for most people, the uneasy half-acknowledgement of this conflict is the best they can offer. The successful trashy blogger will apologise semi-frequently for their self-obsession.
Hints of future greatness
This is heavily tied-up with the previous point. "Why should I write a blog? Because one day, I'll be great." (Again, the ironymeter is hovering at "wry smile".) The successful trashy blogger must at all times assume that they're the next Salinger/Plath and that their blog-work documenting their early life is VITAL. One day, hordes of biographers will be scratching around, desperate to gain insight into your genius. "Please tell me she kept a notebook, a diary, anything! Shit! I've found desperatelysmiling.blogspot.com, a record of her pre-fame thoughts and feelings. Now we can give her the understanding and attention she obviously deserves." That's how the story will go. The successful blogger MUST retain this mindset, or risk annihilation.
"Nothing ever works out for me"
Why does the trashy blogger feel the need to blog? Because their life is an unmitigated disaster. Either their life is unfair and nothing goes their way, or they're predisposed to be unsuccessful because they weren't given the gift of commitment and get-up-and-go. Either way, at least documenting their lack of success will help them feel better. Maybe it'll make other like-minded "failures" make sense of their own shortcomings? Maybe the world can at least sympathise that, were things different, the trashy-blogger would be successful. And that's worth something.
The Ugly
Copious amounts of information about one's body
Are you boobs too small? Did the big girls make fun of your hairy forearms? Or, if you're a boy, did the older boys have smoother skin and bigger muscles? The successful trashy-blogger will document all such embarrassments, and post them on the famously-private Internet. Right next to that picture of you, which identifies you as the writer and curator of the blog.
Hating the cool kids whilst aspiring to be one
This is the trashy blog at its most subtle and nuanced. A cursory glance will reveal that there is no way that the trashy-blogger would try and be like them, the arch-nemesis - the boy who called you an ugly "munter" for 3 years at high school, the girl who spread that rumour about you and the caretaker's dog. The "hating" bit is pretty straight-forward. The more elusive "aspiring" part comes from the occasional longing and wistful tone, the self-conscious desire to look as much like them as possible when posing for the photo in the "about me" section, etc. Like the best of David Attenborough, it sometimes requires a lot of patient watching, but the successful trashy blogger will eventually reveal their secret aspirations.
The lack of humour
This is pretty self-explanatory. The trashy-blog isn't here to impress you, it's here to cover you in tar and let you sink into a pit of despair. Clearly, adding humour (or even an attempt at humour) would undermine this effort.
-------
Well, there we go. This has gone some way towards legitimising my observation of numerous versions of the trashy-blog. There's definitely a case for accusing BtM of being partially trashy, but I think I've definitely avoided some of the more egregious rules listed above. But tell me, what do you think? I, like, really care.
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