ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES. An esteemed correspondent from Coventry weighs in on this whole God business (from an English standpoint, of course). In addition, and as a bonus, I posted a clip of the best answerphone message ever in a tribute to James Nesbitt (who ought by rights to have got a Golden Globe for Jekyll) and .my favorite Nesbitt vehicle, Murphy's Law.
ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES (cross-posted to PEACH). Prompted by an internet acquaintance, I gave some love to British comedian/character actor Harry Enfield (here). If you're American, you haven't heard or seen enough of him. Fortunately, you can do so now on Netflix. (Harry Enfield, The Indispensable Mr. Cholmondely-Warner (on "Conjugal Relations)," & the Late Great Douglas Adams)
THE FLATLAND CHRONICLES: ANOTHER RANDOM LINK O' THE DAY! Virtual drums. Need I say more? Oh, all right, then: check out the virtual drums!
ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES. I don't generally like any comedian qua---as Bertie Wooster used to say---comedian. For example, I'm not that keen anymore about stand-up, having heard quite a lot of it in my time. Which is why I am so fond of Britain's best comedians, all of whom can act as well and whose alter egos are quite entertainingly dangerously looney.
And while I am very grateful to BBC America for existing, there's still not enough of it for me.
Steve Coogan, one such, remains at the top of my list. Of course for Alan Partridge, but not just for Alan Partridge. Read more here....
JUST EAT THE DAMN PEACH/ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES. If you're American, you probably haven't heard of Albert Pierrepont, Britain's most famous hangman. As played by Timothy Spall in The Last Hangman, he is not the executioner you'd expect, but a kind-hearted and humane one, whose principle objective was to spare even the worst criminals any unnecessary fear or pain and who firmly believed that by paying the ultimate price, even the worst of the worst (e.g., the Nazis he hanged) reclaimed their dignity. It is quite an extraordinary film, though not exactly a feel-good movie.
If there really were a Mr. Death, I'd want him to look and behave exactly like Spall's Albert Pierrepont.
Posted here if you just want to read it in the context of diversions and here if you want to read it as a fascinating window on a period of British history.
Though I'm a woman of a certain age, I haven't lost all awareness of what my grandmother used to refer to as "the opposite S-E-X." In fact, quite the reverse. We live in a society that believes that sex is only about sex, and is therefore the province of youth. For which I have two words: "Madame Pompadour."
ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES. I didn't exactly love "King Arthur," but I'll be re-watching it again tomorrow as I so often do. If you're a woman, you'll want to take a look at this.
JUST EAT THE DAMN PEACH. And this.
Both need to be cross-posted. I'll see to that eventually.
Another amusing note from Jon Tillman on his ongoing education in all things British. Last week he wrote about things he'd learned from the Brits about Americans; this week he has a list of 13 things he thought he knew about the English. You'll enjoy his insights (which might save you a trip to London, or at least a truckload of disillusionment when you do visit). Yep, yep, yep: they're different from you and me, and different in many ways from what PBS, A & E, and even BBC America have led you to expect.
I haven't been writing much in that blog, it's one of the ones that's always on my to-do list, not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have too much.
Today I posted a link to a note which says much of it quite succinctly...and without the rose-colored glasses I'm more or less forced by circumstances to wear.
To read my note on "13 things I Have Learned About America from the British," and to find a link to a most interesting blog, JUMP TO ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES NOW.
Paradoxically, many of the things I like best in the way of television and books don't get addressed in my blog because I tell myself I'll wait to write about them till I have time to do them justice. (For example: I have most of a kickass note on Peter Taylor written for publication in "Just Eat the Damn Peach," but I just can't bring myself to finish it till I can do the subject justice. Which will be never.
I feel strongly about Ricky Gervais and about his television show Extras; in addition, I was sort of unsure after the first season what to say about it. It's clear that he detests the whole cult of celebrity and that he's taking the piss, but he really does seem to be angrier about it than you'd think for someone who has received the sort of recognition he now receives. Or maybe that's just him being English. As Andy Millman, he not infrequently reminds me of my friend Rumcove.
Anyway: Extras. I published the note in the Peach blog here, but also posted a link in "Anglo-Saxon Attitudes," since he's definitely on my private list of greatly honored Brits. Which may not be much of an achievement according to you or to him, but which is naturally---not to be pompous or self-important in the way he so loathes, but just honest---of great significance to me. Anyway, whatever: Ricky Gervais. Extras.
JUMP HERE FOR MY TRIBUTE TO THEM, plus a link to his website.
In my personal roster of influential and greatly honored British men and women, Professor Simon Schama's name is surrounded by a sort of halo: he's a scholar with the native eloquence, presence, and command of the subject to make it entrancing to ordinary people. I see him as leading the way in teaching teachers of history how to teach it, how to tell it, how to make it real.
For young people who can recite by heart all the kings of Gondor and the names, special skills, and attributes of a hagiography of comic book characters, the problem isn't a reluctance to learn, but a reluctance to listen to material that is badly written, badly presented, without life or art.
Why do some scholars and teachers feel that their responsibility as teachers ends with the mere presentation of lifeless facts? Why is it up to their pupils to make themselves interested in subject, when the person presenting it isn't sufficiently interested to do it well and with passion?
The best teachers I had in my life weren't necessarily the ones who taught courses I particularly wanted to take; they were the ones with the gift for making me feel that what they had to say was important and not just in the abstract, but to me personally. They had a story to tell and they made you feel it. The story might be the story of the structure of the universe or the atom; or it might involve the chemical process by which glucose is converted to energy; it might be the story of French or Latin grammar; or of modern American poetry; it didn't matter. A great teacher makes you see the whole picture, the recurring themes, the context.
Simon Schama is an astounding and an entrancing and a spellbinding narrator of the history of Britain. Even more important, he proves that the art of making your subject entertaining rather than merely instructive is the art of teaching. If you want to get young people to look up out of their comic books, their fantasy novels, or their football scores, you've got to make them see that reality is fully as absorbing as fiction, games, and other past-times. In A History of Britain, Simon Schama shows the way.
"Who?" you are probably thinking. "I thought his name was----"
Which is the point of this article.
In one of those definitively humiliating scenes from my past, I am writing a lengthy response to a college history examination relating to European history and the Norman Conquest with a vague feeling that something wasn't quite right. I couldn't put my finger on it, so I kept writing. I didn't find out till the professor read my answer aloud to the rest of the class: a well-written essay on the travels and travails of one "Norman the Conqueror." The experience left behind a permanently seared spot in my self-esteem. I've referred to him---with absolute historical correctness---as "William the Bastard" ever since.
Today someone similarly challenged googled "Norman the Conqueror" and visited the blog where I discuss this humiliating experience. After all this time, it turns out I am not alone!
By googling the search term "Norman the Conqueror" myself, I found that there are many, many people who clearly prefer to think of "William the Bastard" as Norman---not a Norman, mind you, but Norman. Good ol' Norman. To prove that this is, if an error, a popular one, I have collected a number of quotes from the internet (some from cached pages) about Norm and his doings.
Since this error is evidently widespread, and more so in Britain than here, I have a radical proposal for Simon Schama and other British historians.
TO READ MORE ABOUT NORMAN THE CONQUEROR, JUMP TO ANGLO-SAXON ATTITUDES.
