The Two Hundredth Anniversary of the birth of Edward Lear

There are scenes from childhood that we can often recall with great fondness. Today is one of those days when I am reminded of just how happy my childhood was. I remember my Grandmother reciting one of Edward Lear's poems to me and it has stayed with me my whole life.

The Owl and the Pussycat 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 married 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.

Concerning Hobbits !

German poster advertising the forthcoming movie of JRR Tolkien's The Hobbit.

I consider myself a fan of the Tolkien genre, I also consider myself to be a bit of a Lord of the Rings nut, hence the reason why I changed my blog, to make it more Tolkienesq. I read The Lord of the Rings on a yearly basis, and I have left The Hobbit on the book shelf for to long. Now I intend to reread the book as I am afraid that I have become caught up in Hobbit mania, (thank you Peter Jackson).

I have not read The Hobbit since I was a young lad of 14, now I want to reread it as I can't remember much about it, the only thing that ever stayed with me was the meeting of Biblo and Gollum, everything else is an abstract blur. I think today I will find a cheap copy of it and give it a stab. I never really considered it to be the best of Tolkien's work, indeed I prise the Lord of the Rings and The Simirillion above all his works.

I am now prepared to reread The Hobbit, I hope that I will be presently surprised, perhaps deep down I always considered it to be a book for children, and this snobbishness has prevented me from taking it seriously.



Reflection: The Billy Plays

Today I watched the final instalment of the BBC's , "Billy Plays", this episode was called, "A Coming to Terms for Billy". I must say that it was refreshing to watch a drama set in Belfast in the late 1970s, that focused on the day to day lives of working class Protestant folk from South Belfast, (incidentally the writer, Graham Reid,  of the plays is an old boy from my school, Gransha Boys High, which just goes to show that talent did come from Gransha). The South Belfast of that era has changed, the terrace streets have been demolished, yet in some parts of the city, my own native East Belfast for example, still retain those little streets with their distinctive character and charm.

The plays reminded me somewhat of my childhood in Belfast, and of some of the characters that I met on a daily basis, although I was born in the 1980s, growing up in the early to mid 1990s, East Belfast still retained the spirit that is evident in the plays. I felt rather emotional as I watched the final scene, when the whole family stepped out their front door and an "Ould Flute Band", was marching up the street. It's funny, but for some reason I felt a strange warming of my heart, as I recalled the experiences of my youth. Perhaps I am looking at it with rose tinted glasses, I don't rightly care, for me they were happy memories. Standing outside my Grandmother's hair dressing shop on the Woodstock Road, during those long summer days, (It's funny how you never remember a bad summer), and watching "The Bands", we never thought it was political in our childhood, we just loved the music and the colour of the whole thing, which brought a cheerful change to the humdrum of day to day life.

I was so impressed by these experiences that I ended up becoming a part of the parades, but perhaps it would have been better if I had just stayed as a spectator, for once I was in the whole thing changed, not for the worse you understand, but just because it was different from my childhood. I will always hold those memories in my heart. The sound of the big base drum echoing of the narrow streets, bouncing from house to house, the beautiful banners, with their images of William III (King Billy as we knew him), the array of sashes, and most of all the atmosphere, for it was never as it is portrayed now, there was a real sense of fun about the whole thing, and it was always a great time. Now as an adult I am cynical about the whole thing, I don't know why, perhaps because the bands have changed, (Indeed they have, which is a great pity, particularly in Belfast), more so because I have changed.

The characters in the Play remind me so much of people that I encountered in my childhood, not so much now, because all the real Belfast characters have gone. The father big Norman Martin, this tough, (We would say Hard), fella who everyone was afraid of, was like a certain individual I remember, when he came down the street all the kids would hide. Then there was Uncle Andy, an ould boy, sick and a chronic moaner, I knew someone like that, his mannerisms from spitting tobacco in the fire to bringing his chum round for a game of draughts reminds me so much of someone I knew. The to sisters, the youngest in the family remind me of friends that I once had, phrases such as, "I'm going up to play on the conner", "Am I allowed out", "No ones allowed in", hanging about the entries (that's ally ways to those who don't speak Belfast talk) with your mates, all that was in my childhood, and it is gone. Perhaps it is not that I yearn for the Belfast of my youth, perhaps it is that I yearn for my youth.

I have included this link to a 12th July Parade in 1976, walking along Templemore Avenue, I know that area well, but more than that, you will see just how different it was then, it is sad in a way. Hopefully it won't all die.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5JiMgeFG8o