Jan Morris died last Friday, she had made it to a good old age, so we should not be too sad. She is one of those authors that I put in the top ten of my reading list, along with Madeline Bunting and Thomas Hardy.
I have only read one of her books, 'The Matter of Wales' and immediately understood her claiming back of Welsh heritage and love of country. I am not a traveller, I do not wish to take long train journeys abroad and see cities, no I am happy on home ground. It was always a joke in the Swiss contingency of the family, my love of Britain, it is not nationalistic, our people terrify me but then I have always been frightened by the people around me. It is the countryside and landscape that appeals to my soul.
Today had an email from my granddaughter Matilda, she wanted the recipe for my vegetarian gravy for the Xmas meal she was going to prepare at her flat. I told her the tale of her great grandma Lotta. Who when I was young and with a young toddler came over for the Xmas break. We had cooked the turkey and everything, then eaten the leftovers in various ways (remember them?) and I had thrown it out in the dustbin. She rescued the carcase with a great tutting and said there was still plenty there, especially for soup.
Lotta was a strong minded woman, and rich, but her training at finishing school during the war had taught her to use every scrap of food and soups were always the standby at supper.
Well my little cat has managed to get in the trap, and eat some food, and has not released the catch so she is still swanning about the garden, some thought needed. At least she is familiar with it!
The world outside is frozen white, but then in day it will warm up again and then go cold as a blue sheet of cold stretches from the North
It is a beautiful day here and not cold inside the sitting room looking out!
ReplyDeleteThat is the way to be Pat, warm and comfortable inside. Cats score 2 me nil. The mother cat got trapped, absolutely ferocious, so I donned thick garden gloves to let her out. My little cat though managed to walk on the trap and eat all the food at the back and not trigger the mechanism.
DeleteJan Morris's best book of all is Conundrum which is the brief story of her life. It is the most wonderful book I have ever read and I read it in two sessions. For lovers of Venice, her book Venice is also essential reading. I have now finished Madeleine Bunting's book, the Plot, and found it most disturbing and wonder if I had known the story of her father before seeing his sculptures would I have still felt the same. I am currently having to separate the two in my head having only just finished the book over the weekend. I am grateful to you for the introduction however or whatever.
ReplyDeleteI shall probably get that book Conundrum, she had an absolute need to write all the time I believe. Wasn't sure that you would like the Plot, there is a lot of background history as well. As for Madeline's father, he was a man of his time, Catholicism pinpointed his superior attitude to his family. Pat would have liked that he worked for the 'mouseman' as an apprentice for a short time, which is why you see work in wood as well.
ReplyDeleteI think it is rather sweeping to say that Catholicism pinpointed his superior attitude to his family. Having been brought up knowing only Catholic families I would not agree with your statement. He was clearly a troubled man and not a good father or husband. Being a Catholic does not excuse or account for this.
DeleteHold on Rachel I am not sure I said that as you interpreted it. I was talking about his behaviour, and not about other Catholics. Ampleforth College obviously had a strong influence on the way he saw life. He dedicated his chapel to three young men who had died because of the war but the chapel was also a family gathering place for getting together and picnics. His behaviour to his family is very normal for that part of history, we've all grown up since. But being Catholic does have an influence on how you bring up a family surely.
DeleteIt wasn't that long ago. Madeleine was born 12 years after me for instance. She is not describing a life in the Dark Ages, she is talking about the 1950s and later well into the 1970s and beyond. "That part of history" as you call it for me was seeing good father's and good men. She painted a grim picture of him as a father and husband.
DeleteI kew Jan Morris (as did Shawn) when she lived in Bath when the book came out, but I knew Henry (her son) better - another but coming up: but not as well as Shawn did. It certainly was a conundrum.
ReplyDeleteGosh you knew some famous people, expect it is that pub down Walcot Street. All I remember ever seeing was Salman Rushdie when he was in hiding years ago.
DeleteAlthough the daughter of survivors of the great depression, I never could stomach broth bases from boiled down carcasses. Both my daughters, bless them, learned from grandma what their mother would never teach them.
ReplyDeleteWell as long as you skimmed the fat off the top and put plenty of vegetables in I could stand it but of course we have never experienced having no food and hunger.
DeleteJust this very day I simmered my hambone over night. It will make a wonderful base for potato soup.
ReplyDeleteI remember the salty taste of ham soup, taken from the pig's trotters which my grandfather loved. Also a German student telling me the tale of 'stone' soup, which you would start the soup with and gullible people would add the vegetables.
ReplyDeleteI was horrified the first time I saw my in-laws throw away a turkey carcass, and the skin, and so much that I had always seen go into soup. For decades after I began to be the one to roast the turkey, I would save the carcass and those of any other household I could salvage, and make quantities of soup. But for me, those opportunities haven't presented themselves in many years now. Now I get to just enjoy the eating, and don't concern myself with what other hospitable people want to do in their kitchens -- especially when they have been so kind to cook for me.
ReplyDeleteYour mention of skimming the fat reminded me of my mother's turkey soup, which was a most primitive affair I would never want to imitate. She did put literally everything leftover into the soup pot, including the stuffing, and all the fatty parts, and there was no skimming or straining. So we had to avoid the bones and sip the broth with its layer of grease. I remember the good flavor, but the experience was overall quite a let-down after the feast.
Leftovers are always a let down after the main feast. Using every part of the animal is of course related to histories such as the Depression, or the two world wars. In the Midlands where I grew up, on the menu faggots (innards wrapped in caul) was on the menu, and I even remember heart as well. Fish and chips were cooked in lard, and even today you can still find the same. No wonder I take to a vegetarian diet...
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