Love On The Dole.

Deborah Kerr.

Because of spending most of yesterday in bed I was wide awake at midnight. Flicking around the channels for something worth watching I stumbled across an old black and white film that I enjoyed immensely called Love On The Dole, a British film made in 1941. It was based on a novel of the same name by Walter Greenwood. Set in Salford during the depression of the 1930s it portrays the poverty that people lived in, even when they had jobs, and things got even worse with unemployment. Unemployment benefits were cut even more by being means tested. People were at the mercy of pawnbrokers and other unscrupulous characters.

The only name I recognised in the credits was Deborah Kerr who was only nineteen when she played the lead role of Sally. I thought she was brilliant and for a Scottish actress her Lancashire accent was perfect. When her fiancée is killed during a demonstration, she falls into the hands of a local bookie to save her family from destitution. There is some humour to lighten the depressing story, which is provided by a coven of old ladies who meet up to drink gin, hold seances, and read tea leaves. One of them was Irish, I am always curious about the Irish, so I looked her up on Wikipedia to find out more. The actress’s name was Maire O’Neill and her story I found fascinating. She was born in 1886 and has a place in theatre history because in 1907 at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin she was the first person to play the role of Pegeen Mike Flaherty in John Millington Synge’s masterpiece The Playboy of the Western World. She was engaged to Synge, but tragically he died of cancer in 1909 before they could wed. Synge wrote the plays The Playboy of the Western World and Deirdre of the Sorrows for her. She appeared in many films up to 1953 including Alfred Hitchcock's film version of Seán O'Casey's play Juno and the Paycock.

Maire O'Neill.

I will not tell you any more about the film in case you want to watch it yourself. It was not only the north of England that was grim in the 1930s, but it was also all over the world. The problem of unemployment was solved by organising the second World War. I think, by writing Love On The Dole the author Walter Greenwood who himself left school at age 13, was appealing for a better, fairer world when the war was over. I think it is no surprise that the people rejected the past in the election of 1944 and the Labour government had a landslide victory and established the NHS, the Welfare State, equal education opportunities and housing fit for people to live in. I am sure this film played some part in that.

I would like to end by wishing a very happy 89^th birthday to Dennis Skinner, one of the few politicians left in Britain with any integrity.

Dennis Skinner.

Van Morrison & The Eternal Now.

I was listening to Van Morrison last night. I have not listened to much Van in the last few months because of being annoyed with his attitude over this COVID-19 pandemic. Anyway, I do not want to bang on about that. The reason I started listening to him again last night is because of the book I have been reading called The Power Of Now by Eckhart Tolle. As I said the other day, I first became aware of the name Eckhart Tolle at a Van concert a few years ago when Van’s daughter Shana mentioned his name. The book is all about the importance of living in the presence of the Now, because NOW is the only time that exists.

I put the book down for a few minutes to mull over what was being said, because some concepts are quite hard to grasp and I remembered the concerts on Cyprus Avenue five years ago and in particular the very last song On Hyndford Street. In that song Van was saying the very same things as Eckhart Tolle was saying in the book. I had to go on Youtube and find the video. The song starts slowly with Van reciting the words and even making a couple of jokes, but as the song develops, it is almost as if he is drawing the audience into a guided group meditation. He was singing about ‘bringing in the eternal presence of the NOW, bring it on in’, the eternal now, in the eternal moment, And it's always being now, and it's always being now, It's always now, Can you feel the silence?

Viaducts Of Your Dreams.

I have shared the video to this blog page in case you have not seen it before. Anyone who was fortunate to be there on that magical day will never forget it, that is for sure. Everyone left that concert feeling wondrous and all lit up inside. There are other Van songs which are on the same theme such as Take Me Back where he sings about being close to the One. At this very moment I am listening to The Philosophers Stone album that I haven’t played for at least a year. There is a song on it called Song Of Being A Child which is on the same subject of being in the eternal moment of now. ‘When the child was a child, It didn't know it was a child. Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one’. I’m sure you yourself might be able to think of other songs. Incidentally, when reading the words of that song I remembered that Van only wrote the last verse. The rest of it was a poem by the Nobel prize laureate Peter Handke. An interesting fact is that a photo on the inside cover of Van’s Back On Top album is also on the cover of a novel by Peter Handke called My Year in The No-Man's-Bay. Coincidence? Probably, but I wonder how Van stumbled across the poem by Handke.

 Whatever we think about Van’s antics over lockdown, there is no doubt that he has produced a fabulous body of work, and that is perhaps what we should concentrate on.

Van Morrison - On Hyndford Street (Live from Cyprus Avenue, Belfast)

Lakeside Mindfulness.

There was a brief break in the weather this morning, the sun showed its face for a while, so after I got the wheelie bin in, I thought I ought to get some exercise. I headed up the road towards the countryside. When I got as far as Lidl I realised I should have put my boots on. I was wearing light shoes which meant I could not go anywhere muddy. I decided to go up Coach Road towards the golf course. Just before you get to the club house there is a nice little fishing lake. I hoped there might be some wildlife or birds to photograph, but there was not, just a couple of black-headed geese who honked at me as I approached. It was nice and peaceful though, looking at the lake and being in the moment. People should go for a walk every day if they can. It is good for your mental health to get outdoors.

There is a memorial bench by the lake and a plinth remembering the late friends and organisers of the Village Pump Folk Festival which was held here for a few years before its demise. I knew some of them personally, and recognised the names of others, such as Jackie Leven, Vin Garbutt, Fred Wedlock and a few others. I sat there for about 30 minutes enjoying the view and remembering a few things from the old days. Then a few spots of rain interrupted my reverie and I thought I better make a move. It rained quite steadily as I marched briskly home, but It didn't do me any harm.

I don’t know when I’ll get out again, but my mind is turning to Spring. I might start potting a few seeds in the next few days which will give me something to do. I cannot think of anything else to say now. If something exciting happens this evening I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.

 

Always Being Now.

Sunday afternoon, gazing out of the kitchen window as big fat snowflakes fall on the wet garden. It will not settle because it also appears to be raining. I suppose the correct term is sleet. We are saying farewell to January. What a month it has been. Britain has finally been cut adrift from Europe and the death toll passes 100,000 from COVID-19. When the Titanic sank in 1912 it was a national disaster when 1,500 people perished, but now that figure has been reached nearly every day. In the USA there is a new President trying to repair the damage of the last four years. Let us hope he succeeds. On a personal level I am pleased with some things. Firstly, I have kept my promise to write something on my blog page every day. Sorry if it has been unimportant trivial nonsense on many occasions, but it is the best I can do in the present circumstances. Hopefully, as the weather gets better, and the restrictions of lock-down are lifted I will be able to get out and about and find something interesting to write about. Secondly, I have done some exercise every day, either Tai Chi or Qigong or going for a walk. I can feel the benefit of it. Thirdly, I have got through January without any alcohol, which I am also incredibly pleased about. I have not felt at all depressed during the isolation. I bet I would have if I had been drinking every night. I might treat myself to a glass of wine tomorrow evening though.

Shana Morrison.

So, what have I done since yesterday? Last night when I was looking for something else on YouTube I stumbled across videos by Eckhart Tolle and ended up watching for an hour or so. I think I first became aware of his name at a Van Morrison concert in Bristol about seven years ago. Van’s daughter Shana Morrison sang a few songs to start the show. She asked the audience to please not film or record on their phones and as Eckhart Tolle says, 'just be in the presence of the moment'. She asked so sweetly that I did not try and do any filming at all that evening. Anyway, I did not take much interest in Tolle until now because I thought he was just popularising things that others had said previously, mainly Krishnamurti. However, after listening to him last night I was so impressed that I ordered one of his books called The Power Of Now. I will tell you about it when I have read it.

Apart from that, last night I watched a documentary about The Mamas & The Papas who I had several records of in the 60s. Also, a documentary/concert of The Beach Boys from 1976. I really enjoyed that, apart from Mike Love who seems to be an ego maniac. The Wilson brothers and Al Jardine were great, especially when the surfing police turned up and made Brian get out of bed and go surfing.

That will do for today. As it is February 1^st tomorrow, I will try and think of something special to tell you about.

W.B. Yeats & Van Morrison.

I cannot think of anything new to tell you today because I haven't done anything even remotely interesting, due to this lockdown and the crappy weather. I noticed that it is the anniversary of W.B. Yeats  who died 82 years ago today on January 28th 1939, so I thought I would dust off this old story I wrote a few years ago........

When I moved to Westbury in 1987 I got to know this man called Sean who came from County Sligo. He was a real character and told me lots of interesting and funny stories. He had been in the Irish army in his early days. One night in the pub he told me that in 1948 because of being in the army he had been present at the re-burial of W.B. Yeats. I looked it up and found out that sure enough Yeats had died in France in 1939, but in 1948 he was exhumed and returned to Ireland and according to his wishes buried in Drumcliffe Churchyard in Sligo. The words that are on his headstone appear in Vans song Here Comes The Knight on the No Guru album. 'Cast a cold eye on life, on death'. Van has been influenced very much by W.B. Yeats and his work has been littered with Yeats references, so this might be a good place to look at Yeats's influence on Van. Crazy Jane On God was a Yeats poem that Van set to music and was meant to appear on the A Sense Of Wonder album but the trustees of Yeats estate refused permission. It eventually appeared on The Philosophers Stone album and is quite superb. Before The World Was Made is one of the best tracks on Too Long In Exile and is adapted from Yeats poem ‘A Woman Young And Old’ originally published in 1933.

If I make the lashes dark, And the eyes more bright, And the lips more scarlet, Or ask if all be right, From mirror after mirror, No vanity's displayed, I'm looking for the face I had, Before the world was made.

Van donated this song to an album called Now And In Time to Be which I heartily recommend in which various artists such as the Waterboys,Christy Moore,Shane McGowan,The Cranberries,Richard Harris and many others recite or sing Yeats poems. In Summertime In England  Van mentions Yeats and Lady Gregory corresponding, corresponding. I have heard it suggested that Rough God Goes Riding was inspired by Yeats poem The Second Coming, but I’m not sure about that. He may have got the idea from Robin Williamson's song For Mr Thomas which Van also covered. When I first got the Avalon Sunset album the cover reminded me of Yeats poem The Wild Swans At Coole. Van’s song When The Leaves Come Falling Down made me think of Yeat's poem The Falling Of The Leaves. In Rave On John Donne there is,

Rave on let a man come out of Ireland, Rave on Mr Yeats, Rave on down through the Holy Rosey Cross, Rave on down through theosophy, and the Golden Dawn, Rave on through the writing of ‘A Vision’.

There are a lot of similarities between Van and William Butler Yeats. Both were very interested in the occult and mysticism, theosophy etc and influenced by Blake and Swedenborg.  Van has  mentioned the mystic church of Swedenborg in Notting Hill in his live concerts. The thing that really, I find interesting is the reference to the writing of 'A Vision'.

‘A Vision’ was privately published in 1925, a book-length study of various philosophical, historical, astrological, and poetic topics by Yeats who wrote these works while experimenting with automatic writing with his wife. On the 20th October 1917, three days after her twenty-fifth birthday, George Hyde Lees married the fifty-two-year-old poet. The partnership of Yeats and George Hyde Lees is one of the most creative in the literary world.  Nothing that had happened to him before was more dramatically exciting than the automatic writing of his wife. Georgie died in 1968 the year Astral Weeks was recorded. Was Georgie Hyde-Lees the inspiration for Madame George? I don’t think so because Van left school at age 15 and probably not even aware of Yeats. It was only later when he educated himself with reading that William Butler influenced his work. I think that the identity of Madame George will be an enigma forever shrouded in a mystery.

The Joan Anderson Letter.

I have just finished reading The Joan Anderson Letter by Neal Cassady. It did not take long to read it because it is only a short hardback book of 188 pages. This is the second edition published 2021 in London by Eyewear Publishing. The first 46 pages are taken up with an extensive introduction by A. Robert Lee who is an expert on Beat Generation literature and has published several books on the subject previously. This letter written by Neal Cassady to Jack Kerouac in December 1950 has been described as the Holy Grail of the Beat Generation. It is a type written 16,000-word letter that Kerouac said was the greatest piece of writing he ever saw and would make Melville, Twain, Dreiser and Wolfe spin in their graves. Now I have read it, I do not think it is all quite what Jack cracked up to be, but I can see that it is an especially important document. I do not think it is actually a letter at all, it is a story told by Neal. He had his own literary ambitions which is why he sought out and befriended the likes of Kerouac, Ginsberg and Burroughs. He wanted to learn from them to further his own writing career. I am sure when he wrote it, he was hoping that Jack would help him to get this ‘letter’ published. The story recounts Neal meeting and falling in love with this beautiful Jennifer Jones lookalike called Joan Anderson. She was already pregnant when they met. After a while Neal’s ardour cools and he suggests that they should go their separate ways. Things descend into chaos; Joan attempts suicide by drinking hydrogen peroxide and ammonia and tries to jump out of a hotel window. When hospitalised she loses the baby. There are other sub-plots and diversions, involving other women, an hilarious escape through a bathroom window, brushes with the law, jail time, and other adventures.

Neal by Carolyn Cassady.

The letter was only 18 typed pages, but it is action packed. The content is not what makes the letter important though. It is the style. When Jack read the letter, he was already a published author. His first novel The Town And The City came out a few months earlier in March 1950. It was a very traditional type of novel and was not a big success. Jack was searching for something more real. The Joan Anderson letter was a frantic, manic, torrent of words, with the typewriter barely keeping up with the flow of thoughts. This is what Jack Kerouac was looking for. A stream of consciousness style that he would later describe as Spontaneous Bop Prosedy. He got to work, and On The Road, became a classic novel with Neal Cassady the hero as Dean Moriarty.

Jack sent the Joan Anderson letter to Allen Ginsberg who in turn sent it to a publisher called Gerd Stern, and it disappeared. Stern lived on a houseboat and it was thought it might have gone overboard. Nothing was heard of the letter until it was discovered in 2012 by Jean Spinoza whose father had been given the papers of a defunct publisher called The Golden Goose Press. There was a dispute about ownership of the letter, which was finally resolved, and the letter was sold at auction to Emory University, Georgia and it was put on view in an exhibition in 2018. In the back of the book are photos of the eighteen pages of the letter. The original letter is almost as important a document as the original scroll of On The Road. The Cassady family cooperated in the publication of the letter and contributed some nice photos and drawings by Carolyn Cassady who I had the pleasure of meeting over 30 years ago. I am glad that this legendary letter has finally seen the light of day because it was an important catalyst in the development of modern writing.

Me & Carolyn Cassady.