The Wild Children (Born In 1945)

Happy new year. My hope is that 2025 brings an end to the horrific wars in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, Myanmar, and elsewhere in the world. Eighty years ago, in 1945 there was optimism because WW2 was coming to an end. My spirits were lifted today by the news that Neil Young will be headlining Glastonbury Festival again in 2025. It is a welcome return because his appearance in 2009 was one of the most memorable performances ever at Glastonbury. Also, A couple of weeks ago it was announced that Rod Stewart would be playing the Legends spot at Glasto on the Sunday afternoon. This got me thinking because both Rod and Neil were born in 1945. I was reminded that ten years ago I wrote a little piece on this blog page called The Wild Children (Born In 1945). I just re-read the story and found that a lot of it is out of date now, so decided to re-write it for today.

The original inspiration for the story was a song by Van Morrison called Wild Children from Van’s 1973 album Hard Nose The Highway because Van was also born in 1945. As Van sang, ‘We were the wild children born in 1945, When all the soldiers came marching home, Love looks in their eye. Tennessee, Tennessee Williams let your inspiration flow, Let it be around when we hear the sound, When the springtime rivers flow, when the rivers flow. Rod Steiger and Marlon Brando Standing with their heads bowed on the side, Crying like a baby thinking about the time James Dean took that fatal ride, took that ride’. Nobody who was lucky enough to be there will ever forget attending the concerts on Cyprus Avenue to celebrate Van’s 70^th birthday. I wonder what events will mark his 80^th birthday?

Another of my music heroes also turns 80 on May 7^th this year which is Christy Moore. Christy is still playing lots of sell-out concerts in Ireland, but sadly doesn’t seem to visit England anymore. I should make the effort to get over to Ireland and see him one of these days. Other notable musicians born in 1945 and still with us include Neil Young’s former bandmate Stephen Stills, Dave Cousins of The Strawbs, Ashley Hutchings of Fairport Convention, Steel Eye Span, & The Albion Band, blues singers Elkie Brooks and Maggie Bell, the last surviving Monkee Mickey Dolenz, Eric Clapton, Richie Blackmore and Ian Gillan of Deep Purple, Stu Cook, Doug Clifford and John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival, 

Bjorn & Anni-Frid of ABBA, Rita Coolidge, Bob Seger, Keith Jarrett, Pete Townshend of The Who, Carly Simon, Bette Midler, Debbie Harry, Kim Carnes, Al Stewart, Jose Feliciano, Bryan Ferry, Don McLean, John McVie of Fleetwood Mac, Eric Stewart of 10CC, & Robert Wyatt of Soft Machine. I think 1945 must have been a vintage year for great musicians to be born. Please listen to Wild Children by Van Morrison below.

 

Wild Children by Van Morrison.

Happy Birthday Patti Smith!

Wishing a very happy birthday to Patricia Lee Smith born on December 30, 1946, and better known to her many admirers as Patti Smith. She is an American singer, songwriter, poet, painter, author, and photographer. Patti was described as the ‘High Priestess of Punk’ when her 1975 debut album Horses made her a leader of the punk rock movement with her fusion of rock music and poetry. In recent years Patti has become as renowned as a writer as she is as a musician with the publication of such memoirs as Just Kids and M-Train. It was because of her books that I decided to write a little birthday tribute today to Patti...... You may recall that back in November I wrote a little piece about a trip to Yorkshire when two friends and I visited Sylvia Plath’s grave in the village of Heptonstall. 

Well, only a couple of weeks ago I was researching for an article about Albertine Sarrazin in Patti’s Book of Days, and lo and behold, on Page 512 for October 26 I stumbled across a photo of Patti Smith in the exact same location as us at Sylvia’s graveside. (See photo at top) This is what Patti has also said elsewhere about Sylvia, ‘This is a picture taken at the grave of Sylvia Plath in Heptonstall, taken by Tony Shanahan. I found it in my old copy of Ariel, given to me by Robert, a long time ago. In rereading her poems I am remembering the great impact they had on me at twenty. Half a century later I am still struck by her mastery, her sharp yet silky tongue, the tragic loss of her. I have visited her resting place many times.  In snow, dark with solitude and in sun, shrouded in wildflowers'. ........The Robert referred to there is her late boyfriend, the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Patti seems to have a special affinity with Yorkshire because since finding that photo I have discovered some other interesting links. The town of Hebdon Bridge which is adjacent to Heptonstall has been devastated by floods in recent years. Out of the kindness of her heart Patti played a concert to 190 people in the towns Trades Club and donated all the proceeds to the flood relief fund. 

That isn’t all, because another reason for Patti’s frequent visits to this area is her love of the novels and poetry of the Bronte sisters. (See video below of Patti in Haworth) Some of the lyrics of her biggest hit Because The Night were inspired by Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. Patti played another concert to a tiny audience in the Schoolhouse in Haworth (see photo) It was the very building where Charlotte Bronte's wedding reception was held in 1854.  Patti donated the money raised to the Bronte Society. 

I also discovered a couple of days ago that Patti isn’t the only great writer and music composer to be born on December 30 because it is also the birthday of Paul Bowles.  On Wikipedia it says, Paul Frederic Bowles, December 30, 1910 – November 18, 1999 was an American expatriate composer, author, and translator. He became associated with the Moroccan city of Tangier, where he settled in 1947 and lived for 52 years to the end of his life. He studied music with Aaron Copland, and in New York wrote music for theatrical productions, as well as other compositions. He achieved critical and popular success with his first novel The Sheltering Sky (1949), set in French North Africa, which he had visited in 1931. In 1947, Bowles settled in Tangier, and his wife Jane Bowles followed in 1948. Tangier was Bowles's home for the remainder of his life. Bowles died in 1999 at the age of 88. I have never listened to any of Paul Bowles music compositions, but I have read The Sheltering Sky and many of his short stories. It was a friend of mine Fred who introduced me to his work when he gave me a collection of short stories. Coincidentally it was in Fred’s flat in 1976 that I first heard Horses by Patti Smith. I am mentioning all this because Patti also admired Bowles work, and she actually met him. It was quite sad because he was very old then and died only two years later. This is what Patti said about their meeting. (I found these words on a website called The Marginalian.)

I was first introduced to Bowles in a serendipitous way. In the summer of 1967, shortly after I left home and went to New York City, I passed a large box of overturned books spilling out into the street. Several were scattered across the sidewalk, and a dated copy of Who’s Who in America lay open before my feet. I bent down to look, as a photograph caught my eye above an entry for Paul Frederic Bowles. I had never heard of him but I noticed we shared the same birthday, the thirtieth of December. Believing it to be a sign, I tore out the page and later searched out his books, the first being The Sheltering Sky. I read everything he wrote as well as his translations, introducing me to the work of Mohammed Mrabet and Isabelle Eberhardt. Three decades later, in 1997, I was asked by German Vogue to interview him in Tangier. I had mixed feelings about my assignment, for they mentioned he was ill. But I was assured that he had readily agreed and that I would not be disturbing him. Bowles lived in a three-room apartment on a quiet street in a straightforward fifties-modern building in a residential section. A high stack of well-travelled trunks and suitcases formed a column in the entranceway. There were books lining the walls and halls, books that I knew and books I wished to know. He sat propped up in bed, wearing a soft plaid robe, and appeared to brighten when I entered the room. I crouched down trying to find a graceful position in the awkward air. We spoke of his late wife, Jane, whose spirit seemed to be everywhere. I sat there twisting my braids, speaking about love. I wondered if he was really listening.—Are you writing? I asked.—No, I am no longer writing.—How do you feel now? I asked.—Empty, he answered'. ......  

On Wiki I also found out that yet another great person was also born on December 30, but this time in 1879 which was the Indian sage Ramana Maharshi. I discovered him via Eckhart Tolle. I have been reading a book about Ramana Maharshi recently, so I might write about him in 2025. Anyway, happy birthday to the one and only Patti Smith, and don’t forget.... People Have The Power! (I have added a video below of Patti singing a Bob Dylan song from the last time we saw her which was 3 years ago in Bath)

Patti Smith: One Too Many Mornings, (Bob Dylan) Bath Forum, October 2021.

Patti Smith in Haworth, Yorkshire.

Astragal by Albertine Sarrazin.

I haven’t written anything for a while, so today I will try and make up for it by telling you about a book which I finished reading on Wednesday night. It is called Astragal by a French writer called Albertine Sarrazin. I suppose the first thing to explain is where Astragal comes from. Well, it is the French name for what is called in English the talus, a small bone in the ankle which transfers the entire weight of the body from the leg to the foot. The protagonist Anne breaks her astragal jumping 30 feet from the top of a prison wall in order to escape. I should also explain how I discovered the book. It is all thanks to Patti Smith. When you become a fan of Patti it is like walking into a library or an art gallery. She wants to share her enthusiasms with you. The books she has written are littered with references to artists who have influenced her. Patti seems particularly drawn to French poets and writers such as Rimbaud, Verlaine, Baudelaire, and Jean Genet. The French have also taken Patti to their heart. She was awarded the Légion d’honneur in 2022. Patti discovered Astragal in a Greenwich Village bookshop in 1968. She was drawn to the cover which proclaimed Albertine as the ‘female Genet’.

Recently I was perusing Patti’s Book Of Days when on page 368 I came across a photo of Patti’s copy of Astragal and a picture of Albertine. With her short, cropped hair and elfin 1960s looks she reminded me slightly of a young Julie Driscoll. Also, in my mind’s eye I imagined her as Beatrice Dalle in the film Betty Blue. That was enough for me. I knew I had to buy the book. The copy I found on eBay published in 2013 said, ‘Introduction by Patti Smith’ which is why I chose that edition.  Patti’s intro is a great piece of writing. She says, ‘Perhaps it is wrong to speak of oneself while writing of another, but I truly wonder if I would have become as I am without her. Would I have carried myself with the same swagger, or faced adversity with such feminine resolve, without Albertine as my guide?’. The American translator Patsy Southgate also deserves a shout out for being a writer with a French soul, empathising with her subject.

Astragal is a fictionalised account of part of Albertine’s own life. Nothing happens to the protagonist Anne which didn’t also happen to Albertine, so I’ll just tell you briefly about her short life. She was born in Algiers in 1937 and abandoned by her Spanish teenage mother. At the age of two she was adopted by a French couple who took her to Aix-En-Provence. Aged 10 she was raped by a relative. Although she was a brilliant student and gifted musician, she constantly rebelled against her adoptive parents who tried to mould her into something she wasn’t. They revoked the adoption and sent her to a reform school in Marseille ironically called The Refuge of the Good Shepherd. She waited until easily passing all her exams before escaping to Paris where she reunited with Emmaline a love interest from school. They lived a precarious life of prostitution and crime before being arrested for a bungled armed robbery. Albertine received a seven-year sentence at Fresnes Prison. In prison Albertine kept a journal and wrote, and wrote, and wrote. In 1957 she escaped when transferred to Doullens reform school. Breaking her ankle during the escape she crawled to the roadside where purely by chance she was rescued by Julien Sarrazin who was also a habitual criminal. This is where the story of Astragal begins.

I won’t tell you any more about the book because hopefully you might read it for yourself, but it is an account of their life on the lam, moving from house to house of Julien’s criminal contacts, always with the knowledge of inevitable re-arrest.  I don’t think it is the greatest book I’ve ever read, but it gripped my attention throughout. I read it in three late night sessions. I couldn’t help but like Albertine despite her life outside the law. She shows no hint of remorse, but you can understand her rebellion against society and authority after her childhood experiences. 

In real life she and Julien were married in prison and Albertine was finally released in 1965. Astragale and La Cavale were published to best-selling great acclaim and she and Julien left their life of crime. In 1967 she had to have kidney surgery which should have been a routine operation, but it was botched, and she died from complications aged only 29. It was a tragic end to an eventful and promising life. Julien successfully sued the hospital for negligence. Her journals, poems and letters were published after her death. Thank you very much to Patti Smith for introducing me to Albertine Sarrazin who lived her short life like a shooting star.

Film Review: Small Things Like These.

I don’t go to the cinema very often these days. I think the last film I saw before last night was The Unlikely Pilgrimage Of Harold Fry starring Jim Broadbent. However, when I saw that Small Things Like These was showing at the Odeon in Trowbridge I knew I should make the effort to go. This was because a friend of mine spoke highly of the film after seeing it recently. Also, you may recall that I wrote a review of the original novella by Claire Keegan which was published in 2021, so I was keen to see if the film was faithful to the book. The film is directed by Tim Mielants who I haven’t heard of before. He doesn’t have a Wikipedia entry which suggests to me that this is his directorial debut. If that is the case, then I think he has done an excellent job in portraying Ireland during a difficult economic period of the 1980s. He brilliantly captures the bleak rainy pre-Christmas mood of the book, even down to little details like the ominous crows on the roofs. The book is adapted for the screen by Irish playwright Enda Walsh who largely sticks to the plot of Claire’s original story. Cillian Murphy who takes the lead role of the coal merchant Bill Furlong also produced the film. Cillian deserves an award in my opinion for his brilliant performance. 

The protagonist Bill Furlong is a man of few words who largely lives in his own thoughts. He is going through a kind of mid-life crisis, struggling with what Eckhart Tolle would call the pain-body, and brooding on childhood trauma, such as being bullied by other kids and witnessing the death of his mother, also wondering where his father is. Because he is such an introverted, quiet, but kindly character it takes a great actor to portray him. The performance isn’t in the dialogue so much, but all in the eyes and facial expressions, even washing the coal off his hands is an expression of what is going on in his mind. It is a wonderful, understated performance. Another actor worthy of an award is Emily Watson as the Mother Superior Sister Mary. Even when she is speaking politely you can tell by the look in her eye that she is as hard as flint.

I can’t say much more for fear of giving the story away in case you see the film yourself, but Bill makes a discovery which brings matters to a head, leaving him with a moral dilemma. He must make a decision. The film ends abruptly which took the audience by surprise, but that didn’t matter because the film had made its point. I can see why Claire Keegan called her book Small Things Like These. One small courageous action can play a big part in ending a long-standing evil. I was reminded of Rosa Parks when she refused to give up her bus seat to a white person, or when Greta Thunberg refused to go to school until something was done about climate change. Small things like these can have big results.