Ponderings

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  • Never Forget

    On the 27th January, 1945 Red Army troops liberated Auschwitz concentration camp. The Second World War was drawing to a close, and as Nazi forces were on the verge of defeat, they tried to conceal their crimes. They evacuated the remaining prisoners, destroyed the gas chambers and crematoriums and dismantled the warehouses where those who had died from starvation and disease were corralled. Despite their vain attempts to erase it, the Soviets still managed to reveal to the rest of the world the brutal and inhumane realities of the Nazi project.

    The Auschwitz liberation helped to uncover the worst atrocity of the twentieth century. Since then, the world has paused to remember the Holocaust at every anniversary. It is vital that we continue to do this, we owe it to the six million Jews who were murdered. We must always keep them in our memories. We must never forget, because it negates our collective humanity if we simply banish their existence as a mere footnote in history.

    Dehumanisation was a central tenet of Nazi ideology. The Jews, in their twisted minds, were not human beings. They did not even consider them to be as lowly as animals, they actually believed that they were a disease. In the propaganda materials they portrayed them as a virus that was infecting European civilisation, and eradicating them was the only cure. It is horrific that such views were countenanced, it is even worse realising that their genocidal plans were enacted.

    This sickening act of mass murder is forever emblazoned upon our memories, footage of the concentration camps was captured on news reels and broadcast to the British population after the end of the war. We were convinced that the years of privation were worth it, if it meant securing a victory of good over evil.

    When British troops liberated the camps of Bergen Belsen, it left an indelible impression. Many of the young men who saw such levels of degradation and inhumanity were haunted for decades afterwards and could never speak about something, which by its own definition is unspeakable. One of them who did eventually speak was the actor Dirk Bogarde, who wrote extensively in his autobiography about his wartime experience.

    Bogarde states that, “when we opened up Belsen Camp, which was the first concentration camp any of us had seen, we didn’t even know what they were, we’d heard vague rumours that they were…The gates were opened and then I realised that I was looking at Dante’s Inferno…I still haven’t seen anything as dreadful. And never will. And a girl came up who spoke English, because she recognised one of the badges…and her breasts were like empty purses, she had no top on, and a pair of pyjamas, and no hair…She gave me a big kiss, which was very moving”.

    Shortly after this encounter, the girl died.

    Sadly, the Holocaust is dwindling in importance year after year and increasingly relegated as yet another part of history. My generation has grown up understanding that this is more than history, because our grandparents endured the war years. They were our only living connection to this dark episode in human history. Younger generations have no such connection, and it often appears meaningless to them.

    Tragically the Holocaust is considered simply a far off event, rather like the Boer war would have appeared to my peers. A distinction needs to be made though, between other wars in history and the Holocaust. The Holocaust was in fact, the culmination of modernity, where society had chosen to forget that we are all one human race.

    Society had chosen to forget this, because selfishness had triumphed. Amidst the horrors that unfolded during the war, Pope Pius XII pleaded to those bewitched by Hitler to heed the words of the Bible. He referred to the Book of Genesis which proclaimed that all humanity has a common origin, and all of the people on Earth had a duty to be charitable to one another. His pleas were eventually drowned out by the persuasively manipulative campaign of the Nazis.

    Another pitifully modern development is the increasing trivialisation of the Holocaust. This is something which has been utilised by malign political forces. It is a perverse method of moral inversion, and subversion. The most egregious examples occurred in the aftermath of the October 7th attacks when Hamas terrorists committed a pogrom in Israel.

    When Israel valiantly defended itself, the efforts to eliminate a racist, genocidal threat to its very existence were undermined. They were even accused of committing genocide themselves. These accusations are deeply hurtful, and belittle the memory of those who were the victims of an actual genocide.

    The Holocaust was an industrial level murder machine. It was a deliberate and intentional act, aimed at an entire people. It is true that there have been conflicts and atrocities in various parts of the world since 1945, but nothing of this level in western Europe since, so it is outrageous that words like “Nazi” and “fascist” are flung about whenever difficult political issues are contested. These words have been diluted, and their original meaning has been lost.

    It is a bitter irony that the individuals who use these words as insults have more resemblance to Nazis and fascists. These individuals attend marches denigrating the world’s only Jewish state, and argue that alternative political voices should be silenced. It is clear now more than ever that we understand what actually happened in history, to honour the memory of those who suffered and died.

  • The People’s King

    On the 20th January, 1936 King George V died. He was seventy years old. However he had spent years in poor health, originating from an accident in 1915. He was thrown from his horse while inspecting the troops on the French frontline. His injuries were compounded by his smoking addiction and he was later diagnosed with chronic bronchitis.

    Ten years later, on his doctors’ advice, he took an extended break to the Mediterranean coast as they believed that the sea air would improve his breathing. In 1928 his health declined further when he developed septicaemia. His health never truly recovered and as a consequence, he was forced to delegate many of his official duties to his son, the future King Edward VIII.

    Duty was always paramount to George. Unlike other Monarchs, he believed this was much more important than his ceremonial role. Compared to other Monarchs, he was not as enamoured by the fawning and frivolities associated with pageants or other superficial displays of Monarchical power. His sober and sombre attitude was a stark contrast to the excesses and appetites of his father, King Edward VII. In fact, he was the polar opposite, slightly built and shy.

    He did not enjoy public attention, he only participated in his duties because he understood that these things were essential. He did not adjust as well to the role as Edward did, for him it felt normal. However, George was awkward. His diffidence, ironically, was an attribute that ultimately saved him and the future of the Monarchy.

    His work ethic was admirable, in spite of his illness he made sure to attend official engagements whenever and wherever possible. It was at often great cost to his already ailing health. He was reluctant to rest and relinquish his duties. However his health took a grave turn during the winter of 1929. He was recovering from lung surgery and was forced to take another rest cure. He was sent to the seaside town of Bognor to convalesce. The civic leaders of the town were honoured to have such an illustrious guest, and consequently the suffix “Regis” was added to the name to reflect the King’s association.

    His tireless sense of duty was something that was acknowledged by representatives of the Government. George had set a new standard of behaviour for Monarchs; his conscientious character distinguished him from the leisurely antics of his father. Edward always looked the epitome of the country squire, often clad in tweeds and either engaged in a hunting party or watching the races. In contrast, George was always in the same suit, and was indifferent to the whims of fashion. He took his role as King extremely seriously and endeavoured to serve his people to the best of his ability.

    His diligence and humility set him apart from the figureheads of other European countries. The continent was in crisis, and struggling to maintain a sense of homogeneity and unity. It was actually a loosely connected entity that was fracturing from within. The United Kingdom was not immune to these effects either, the culture and society was changing rapidly.

    It was frightening that the old order was no longer considered a certainty or an inevitability anymore. During the early part of his reign nascent political movements like socialism, communism and fascism emerged. These were populist revolts against an established social order. The Liberal government, fearing possible insurrection, introduced social welfare policies to dampen down this growing threat. Meanwhile in Europe militarism continued almost unabated, culminating with the outbreak of the First World War. The King found himself in a difficult and dangerous position. However he chose to put his own people first, before making any personal considerations or decisions.

    He anglicised the Royal Family, severing them from centuries of German history and culture. He was now head of the “House of Windsor” and his relations were no longer the Battenbergs, they were the Mountbattens. This was a swift and deliberate response to the feelings of antipathy towards Germans that were widespread across the Kingdom.

    He also reformed and democratised the honours system, establishing the Companions of Honour. These were awarded to people in public service, the first recipients of these medals were the leaders of the Metal Workers, the Railwaymen and the Transport Unions. It helped appease those who sought socialist revolution, and even regicide. George re-established the charitable role of the Monarchy and exercised noblesse oblige. His subjects were thankful for it, and for his impeccable morality.

    In 1935 the King celebrated his Silver Jubilee. The nation united in a spirit of warmth and familiarity, a glorious and harmonious picture totally divorced from the dark totalitarianism that had enveloped Germany and Italy. The serenity was broken six months later when his death was announced. The calm dignity he exuded throughout his reign was crucial in securing the continuity of the Monarchy, and cementing our national identity.

  • Native Wit

    On the 7th January, 1891 the African-American writer, anthropologist, folklorist and filmmaker Zora Neale Hurston was born. She grew up in Eatonville, Florida, one of the first autonomous black principalities in the United States. Her father was the Mayor, and a Baptist minister in the town.

    She was educated at a Baptist boarding school in Jacksonville but was forced to leave after her father failed to pay her tuition fees. She worked as a maid and attended night school, before leaving for University in Washington. While on the course she grew fascinated by anthropology and folklore.

    It opened up her mind to other cultures, which seemed so remote and distinct from the earthy humour and superstition of her hometown. However, as her upbringing was so detached from the experience of white Americans, it gave her a much greater sense of appreciation for the wisdom that she acquired growing up in an all black neighbourhood. She realised that her memories of the stories, traditions and rituals had a profound significance. She decided to continue to pursue anthropology as an academic subject, and she also composed short stories and satirical pieces.

    In 1925 she was granted a scholarship at Columbia University, and three years later she received her B.A in anthropology. Her literary and scholarly talents were recognised by the philanthropist and literary patron Charlotte Osgood Mason. She provided Hurston with a stipend of $200 a month to help further her research into folklore. In 1935 she published her first literary anthology on African-American folklore called “Mules and Men”. This was swiftly followed by the novels “Their Eyes Were Watching God” and “Moses, Man of the Mountain”. Her extensive research work took her to the Southern states of America and also the Caribbean, where she collected stories and testimonies from the African diaspora.

    In 1938, another collection of folklore was published. It was called “Tell My Horse” and it details the syncretic beliefs of the post-colonial world. Hurston’s work was overlooked in her lifetime, as she was overshadowed by literary titans like Richard Wright and Langston Hughes. Both Wright and Hughes were overtly partisan in their political beliefs, and this inevitably gave them more gravitas culturally. Hurston only reflected her experiences, and did not perceive herself as a propagandist for the cause of racial equality. Her objectivity, and obvious affection for the community of Eatonville resonates in her writing.

  • Black Flowers Blossom

    On the 1st January, 1988 the first English language edition of the novel “Love in the Time of Cholera”, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez was published. It was something of a gift to the Anglophone literary world, as it opened up a new and exciting frontier of writing and writers.

    The culture of post-colonial Latin America was once hidden from the rest of the world. It was a region that was considered mysterious and exotic, and Marquez was an expert and a vivid voice describing this colourful and multidimensional corner of the world.

    The novel is set in an era where tradition and modernity converge. It is a confusing time for the characters who inhabit a place of instability and uncertainty. The confusion stems from the imbalance between pragmatic duty, loyalty and the affairs of the heart.

    The characters are suspended on a precipice, a precarious line between the old world and the new world. This is illustrated with a dramatic and auspicious scene, the occasion of a hot air balloon ride on the eve of the twentieth century.

    The main protagonists are the fastidious, correct, upright Doctor Urbino, his wife Fermina, and her lost love Florentino. Florentino is a humble shipping clerk who, as the story unfolds, works his way up to become the manager of the company.

    He is revealed to have poetic aspirations and dreams. Their initial courtship is clandestine, and fails when by chance the doctor arrives in Fermina’s life. She is persuaded by her family to marry him.

    The contrasts between enlightenment and superstition, medicine and primitivism could not be more stark. The parallels between the epidemic of cholera and the pathology of love are intensely moving. Urbino seems immune to affection, and perceives marriage as purely pragmatic. He is puzzled by the very idea of romantic love, and how it is possible between two opposing genders.

    Urbino dies, allowing the revival of Fermina and Florentina’s love affair. Even in old age, their love has refused to die. It has left a permanent imprint. Marquez detailed an alluring and magical world that has continued to charm.

  • Chipping Away

    On the 20th December, 1954 the acclaimed author and screenwriter James Hilton died. His most famous work was “Goodbye Mr Chips”. This slim novella was published in 1934 but contains lessons which resonate throughout the ages. It is a romantic evocation of a schoolmaster at Brookfield, a provincial public school for boys. Mr. Chipping or “Chips” is the archetypal teacher, a warm, paternalistic and familiar presence in a world that refuses to stay still.

    Chips knows that history has undoubtedly shaped him, but he is uncomfortably aware that the future is a constant intrusion into his carefully ordered life. Chips finds himself in later years,a solitary widower after losing both his wife and child in childbirth. He is bereft of biological children, but nonetheless perceives himself as the adopted father of hundreds of boys. The boys who were fortunate enough to have been taught by him regard him as a mentor and a confidante, and by extension a father figure.

    The old “boys” of the school include high ranking church ministers, top businessmen, judges, lawyers and assorted pillars of the community. Chips’ role in their success has been incalculable, he is not merely a teacher to them he is the arbiter of moral correction. His lessons in civilisation are set and precise formulas for everyone to follow, this, he believes, is the natural order of everything.

    Chips’ is a traditionalist and a conservative. He is an unfashionable figure in a world that is constantly striving for modernity and the future. However his political and ethical position is not completely implacable, as it is revealed that his young wife helped to soften his stance. In their brief but eventful marriage he opens himself up to her liberal outlook.

    Under her influence he is willing and receptive to new ideas, and his prejudices, particularly those around class, are confounded. Yet his actual standards never change, and he refuses to waver, even in the face of external pressures, as Hilton explains,

    “Because always, whatever happened and however the avenues of politics twisted and curved, he had faith in England, in English flesh and blood, and in Brookfield as a place whose ultimate worth depended on whether she fitted herself into the English scene with dignity and without disproportion”.

    Chips is ultimately a product of a specific time and place. He is the personification of Victorian England, an upstanding figure, both patrician and correct.

    However the radicalism of the early twentieth century is alarming to him, along with the increasing appetite for war. As the First World War erupts, he is forced out of retirement to replace the younger masters who are conscripted. Every Sunday assembly is punctuated with a roll call of death notices, a poignant reminder of the waste wrought by war. An interesting twist occurs when it is announced that the master of German had been killed, another victim of this random and senseless event in history. Chips correctly admonishes the boys who denounced him as the “enemy” when in fact he was called up by his country’s government and had no real choice in the matter.

    Chips never forgets any of his pupils, he continues to invite them to tea at his lodgings. He is loved for his wisdom, his kindness and his tireless duty. The concluding chapter, when Chips says his final goodbye is so touching it is difficult to read it without tears. The vision of England that Hilton depicts, of immaculate cricket lawns and impeccable manners may not have existed, but it is recognised by most of us as the country in which we would like to live.

    This hopeful vision is dwindling year after year and seems more remote than ever in an age of technocratic globalism. Cynics paint this as a sanitised view of the country, and sneer at the supposed absurdity, complaining that it is excessively sentimental.

    However this criticism is hollow and contemptuous, revealing a coarseness and a bluntness which we have sadly become too accustomed to, it offers nothing positive. Hilton’s elegy to a lost England is timely, and even more necessary today than when it was written.

  • The Death of Innocence

    On the 8th December, 1980 the English musician, writer, artist and peace activist John Lennon was murdered. His murderer, Mark Chapman was seemingly affronted by his apparent hypocrisy and militant atheism. This one spiteful act heralded in a new decade of cynicism, which has perpetuated into the twenty-first century.

    This cynicism has not disappeared even though it has had a devastating impact upon humanity, in fact this mean spiritedness has mutated. We are living in an age of darkness and nihilism which Lennon would not recognise if he had actually lived to see it. The 2020s will be remembered as an era of degradation. In fact we are now existing in a terminal state of moribund decline.

    It is pitiful, but he would not have much of a creative career in today’s climate because it is driven by the opposite, there is a much greater desire to destroy. It is sad to witness this unfold before us. The information age has given us many more advantages. However the actual disadvantages are rarely discussed, the rise of online bullying has meant that nobody wants to offer any opinion because it is howled down by the mob. Very few people are prepared to present anything optimistic, because negativity is so deeply entrenched within the general psyche. Sincerity is mocked, earnestness is belittled and this in turn eliminates any creative endeavour. Every new thought is inherently self-defeating, and pointless. Looking back on the past century is like looking at a different world entirely, there is a degree of innocence, which has been lost. There was nothing inherently malicious about Lennon’s songs, or political pronouncements.

    His sole intention was to spread a spirit of harmony in a discordant world. The only criticism that could have been leveled against him was naivety, but youthful idealism is never a valid reason to kill someone. It is shocking to consider that he was only 40 when he died. Lennon was an integral part of The Beatles. He was a well liked and well regarded cultural figure, and the British public felt a great deal of affection for him, and Paul McCartney.

    However the fame and success inevitably became too much for Lennon, and he longed for stability and quiet. He felt stifled by the culture of the UK, and The Beatles as a musical unit was far too confining. He left the band, and the country. He moved to New York in August 1971. Two months later he released a single called “Imagine”, an elegiac paean to an imaginary utopia where humankind “lives as one”. This stripped down piano ballad describes his vision of a universal brotherhood of man, with no heaven, hell, possessions, greed or hunger.

    However his relocation was fraught with problems. The American authorities viewed him with suspicion. Establishment figures denounced him, and suspected that he was a covert Communist. They believed that his songs were a subtle code for subversion, and that his influence was pernicious. They were convinced that his very presence in the country could potentially corrupt an entire generation.

    Lennon was regarded with the same distaste at the height of the Beatles when he compared his popularity with Jesus Christ. Unlike Jesus, Lennon lived in the opulence of St. George’s Hill and drove a Rolls Royce. In 1966 the Protestant firebrand, Norman Vincent Peale pondered on the Beatles meteoric rise to fame and asked, “one wonders what they do with all their dough”. It was evident that Lennon was not frugal as his residence also had a swimming pool.

    This criticism revealed a distinct shallowness, and a glaring lack of intelligence. Most of us can distinguish between a piece of art, and the artist, and actually understand the difference. It is sad that there are still philistines in our midst who take everything literally, including the lyrics of a pop song. Obviously, Lennon was not a politician. He was a singer-songwriter, and he did not compose or perform songs for an explicitly partisan cause.

    Pop music is merely a vehicle for the hopes, frustrations and aspirations of the young. It does not matter if the ideas expressed within the music seem contradictory, foolish or trite to the more mature and worldly among us because that is not the point. Pop songs are only designed to capture a mood. In Lennon’s case, they expressed a feeling of hope for the future of humanity, when in 1969, he implored the upper echelons of society to “give peace a chance”. It seems such a simplistic, and almost childlike plea, but that is the inherent charm of the song.

    Pop music, like other popular forms of entertainment, is meant to be escapist. It presents a fantasy to the listener, to elevate him or her beyond the brutal reality of life. It acts as a soothing salve or a balm. When there are forces in society determined to divide and to break you, music has the unique power to unify and to consolidate.

    Perhaps this is the reason why the elites are so determined to silence the very human need for self-expression, because it challenges their power. The technocrats prefer conformity over individuality, collective fear rather than singular courage and a bewildered, deracinated and atomised populace because it is so much easier to control us. Lennon flew into the light of the dark, black night and paid the ultimate sacrifice for his artistic liberty.

  • The Last Walk

    The mission to reach the South Pole was a bleak and forbidding endeavour. It was a testing expedition for even the most battle hardened men. Captain Scott’s journey across the barren and blank Antarctic was not just exacting physically, it was a supreme test of psychological endurance.

    His team were determined to reach their goal, in spite of the dangers to life. One of his men, Captain Oates displayed the most extreme example of courage in the face of adversity. Lawrence Oates heroically sacrificed his mind, body and spirit to save the mission of his fellow explorers.

    He left the tent to walk out into certain death with the famous last words,

    “I am just going outside and may be some time”.

    These words, so genteel and polite were befitting of an English gentleman, and characteristic of an officer who had served his country proudly and courageously in the Second Boer War. In that conflict he received a gunshot wound in his left thigh bone, which left his left leg an inch shorter than his right leg.

    However he remained fearless and undaunted by the scale of fighting, he did not want to give up. In spite of the clamouring calls from the other soldiers, he urged them to persevere, stating “we came to fight, not to surrender”. His fierce tenacity and bravery impressed military luminaries of the time, like Lord Kitchener.

    However the Antarctic was an entirely different frontier, and in this situation he had to surrender. He died in a blizzard on the 17th March 1912. It was his 32nd birthday. He had gangrene and frostbite and knew that his condition was beyond hope. His last and lonely walk into oblivion is immortalised in history.

    This was the age of exploration, and young men dreamed of becoming explorers. No frontier seemed too remote or arduous to them. It was the greatest competition on planet Earth, and many were determined to win. It did not matter that they sacrificed their lives to achieve it. Oates was a true hero, but in a typically British understated way. His courage lies within his willingness to sacrifice himself for the team.

  • A Desolate Beauty

    On the 25th November 1970, the Japanese writer Yukio Mishima died. He died in a ritual suicide which was broadcast on television. His suicide, and the central role that he played in a failed political coup has been well documented. Mishima’s last public appearance was intended as a forewarning to the world, a graphic method of self-sacrifice to highlight the decadence inherent to the movement of twentieth-century progressivism. It was apt to depart in such a dramatic fashion, as his entire life, and his work explored the bleakest aspects of modernity. He made a deliberate choice to die in the traditional way of the samurai warriors, a stark counterpoint to the futuristic notions of living, working and dying amongst the remnants of post-war Japan.

    However, his life and death have almost overshadowed his work. His artistic brilliance as a writer is rarely spoken of, especially his last work, a tetralogy of novels entitled “The Sea of Fertility”. This was a saga rich in historical detail. It is evident that in his final days he dedicated himself fully to this project, putting his heart and soul, and in the end literally sacrificing his own life to finish it.

    His research was exemplary. And painstaking. His love of the Japanese nation, history, culture and people reverberates throughout the books, but there is a tinge of despair for the loss of the old ways. Many modern commentators decry his supposed “fascism” but ignore the important context. Their criticisms are shallow and ignorant, it is easy to throw around accusations of chauvinism or extremism, but it is much harder to truly examine the work in depth. Diminishing him and reducing him to a political caricature is crass because there are so many elements in his work that transcend political categories, and there is a powerfully emotive message which is omitted. His work explores fundamental philosophical themes, and the meanings are complex and multilayered.

    The main protagonist is Shigekuni Honda. Honda considers the meaning of life and is caught in a desperate bind between the material, rational world and the vague, subjective notion of the individual human “soul”. He examines the concepts of life, death and rebirth. At the beginning of the series, he is a young student and

    searching in vain for something substantial in a state of impermanence, Mishima illuminates his state of mind in vivid and illuminating prose, explaining,

    “The only thing that seemed valid to him was to live for the emotions-gratuitous and unstable, dying only to quicken again, dwindling and flaring without direction or purpose”. Fate in particular hangs heavily in his mind.

    This becomes abundantly clear when he discovers the corpse of a dog in a river. The arbitrary cruelty of life affects him greatly. The death of an innocent and defenceless animal is just one loss of life in a catalogue of deaths that occur throughout the first book. In this unceasing tale of tragedy he questions the purpose of karma, while in the background there is the very real and frightening prospect of international conflict. Honda’s reveries coincide as foreign generals and diplomats contemplate carving up the map of the world once more without any thought of how this will impact upon the people who will be uprooted.

    The second book in the series focuses on the trial of a youth movement of nationalists accused of planning a military takeover of the government. Honda is now working as a judge and is assigned to this case. He is middle-aged and married, but the preoccupations that bedevilled him as a youth remain with him. Justice and mercy, innocence and guilt are perennial themes.

    Karma is deeply embedded within these concepts. Amidst the machinations at court, he ponders the fleeting aspect of mortal life, and contrasts it with the apparent immortality and permanence of the natural world. Poetic illustrations of the sacred mountains of Japan are contrasted with the dry business of the legal system. Eventually the conspirators are found not guilty, but shockwaves from the rebellion continue to resound throughout the nation.

    In the third book, Honda is sent to Bangkok on a business trip, tasked with settling a legal issue with a Japanese company called Itsui Products who trade with Thailand. He is intoxicated by the landscape and culture and experiences a divine epiphany at a temple. The old familiar feelings return to him, the love of beauty and sentiment and the dislike of cold rationalism. However, as soon as he finds a measure of equilibrium Japan is embroiled in the Second World War, with devastating consequences. In the final book of the series, Honda is elderly and widowed. Japan is barren and struggling to reconcile itself with its militaristic past. Honda himself is rueful, but has found a modicum of meaning in his life as a father to his adopted son. Honda is diagnosed with a terminal illness and on his deathbed realises that what he believed was reality was in fact illusion.

    The tone is characteristically and recognisably Mishima. He was renowned as a master of capturing the desolate beauty of nihilism. The books are replete with lengthy meditations on vitality itself, in sharp contrast to the all pervading sense of decay. These vignettes describe an environment inimical to sustaining life. It is a sterile landscape primed for destruction rather than any promise of regeneration or renewal. This magnum opus is a symbol for the limits of ideologies that seek to negate the past.

  • The Inheritor Of Unfulfilled Renown

    On the 20th of November, 1752 the English poet Thomas Chatterton was born. He was born in Bristol to a family who played an important and prestigious role in the office of sexton for St Mary Radcliffe Church. His mother, Sarah Chatterton was a part-time seamstress. His father, also called Thomas, was a numismatist who died shortly after he was born.

    He was educated at Edward Colston’s charity school, reputedly on the site of a ruined Carmelite convent. His childhood was steeped in mystery and myth, but also difficulty and poverty. This inauspicious start in life did not bode well for his future. In spite of his efforts to establish himself as a professional poet he died at the tragically young age of 17. His death occurred in murky circumstances. Many assumed that he had taken his own life.

    However other commentators have suggested that his demise may have been accidental, as his death was attributed to arsenic poisoning. Arsenic was a common treatment for venereal disease at that time. Nonetheless his death still created a myth that lingers to this day, of the tortured, doomed and misunderstood poet destined for obscurity.

    His death and the legend that surrounded it influenced other writers and artists for at least a century afterwards, and beyond. In 1835 the French playwright Alfred de Vigny wrote the visionary drama “Chatterton”. The troubled Victorian poet and Catholic mystic Francis Thompson believed that he was saved from suicide by the comforting presence of Chatterton’s ghost.

    The myth was also immortalised in the popular imagination by the pre-Raphaelite artist Henry Wallis in his 1856 painting “The Death of Chatterton”. In 2010 the outsider artist George Harding was inspired to create his own interpretation of this iconic image in the painting “Everything is Real except God and Death”, inspired by his experience as an in-patient at Bethlem hospital.

    Harding re-imagined the mythic figure of Chatterton, and re-created the infamous death scene with himself at the centre. However in the painting, Harding is not dead, but in a state of madness and confusion. In the grip of his delusion, he has no head, in its place is the Eye of Providence. The painting illustrates that disturbing and unsettling no-man’s land that exists between reality and insanity in which death itself has no meaning.

    Chatterton’s extraordinary life and death provides a dark inspiration for those who have found themselves adrift in society. Chatterton was an imaginative and sensitive child. When he was six he amused himself with solitary pursuits, and spent entire days reading and writing. At school he was prone to daydreaming, and neglected his academic work. He started writing poetry at the age of eleven, and this was encouraged by his mother.

    He was fascinated by history, particularly folklore and many of his earliest writings illuminate the old myths and tales of England. The ancient legends and landscapes of England, especially Bristol animated his verse. This was something that he cultivated while still a schoolboy at Colston’s school. It was staggering to consider that he was only sixteen, and unlike many youths of today who are only too keen to forge ahead and create new ideas for the future, he was more inclined to look back into the past.

    Chatterton adored the rarefied world of Medieval England. This was a period replete with ornate mythology and lore. It was a realm so captivating that he would frequently lose himself within it. He even adopted the persona of a Medieval poet, and attempted to appropriate the syntax and style. He created the pseudonym “Thomas Rowley”. The “Rowley” poems are an astounding testament to his literary and linguistic talents, honed at such a young age.

    Chatterton believed that the character that he imagined, of a Medieval scholar, scribe and Priest, was so convincing, that he could fool the literary establishment. He appealed to the great and good of Bristol. He told them that he had discovered a neglected masterpiece written by an unknown and unrenowned poet from the fifteenth century. However they were unwilling to remunerate him.

    Unchastened by this rejection, he sent his appeal further, to the esteemed Horace Walpole, who initially believed his account until he was informed of Chatterton’s age. He was sceptical of the veracity of the poems, and consulted his friend Thomas Gray. Gray instantly declared that the poems were fake. Walpole wrote a denouncing letter to Chatterton in which he called his poems “facile”, and the correspondence ended.

    The rejection wounded him, and it sent Chatterton on a path to self-destruction, and led to his untimely demise. It seems tragic now to consider that he died not knowing that his work of medieval parody and pastiche would become a major influence on the Romantic poets, and inspire further generations of English poets.

  • The Hero King

    On the 13th November, 1312 King Edward III was born. At the tender age of fourteen, he was crowned King. His accession was marked with a three day tournament. This celebration was a stark contrast to the decidedly dour attitude of his father and predecessor, Edward II, who actually banned such festivities.

    The young Edward III certainly proved himself to be a master of the joust. However this was just a foretaste of his long, magnificent and extraordinary rule. He was the personification of the age of knights, fantasy castles, honours, arms, pageantry and jousts. England’s national identity became steeped in the semiotics of war, and Edward was the warrior in chief leading his tribe in glory.

    However Edward’s ascendance as King was not seamless. His father, Edward II was deeply unpopular, except for one particular member of his household with whom he lavished flattery and favour, to the exclusion of his trusted advisers and even his long suffering wife. Piers Gaveston was the King’s favourite, provoking understandable suspicion, jealousy and contempt. Faced with growing pressure from the barons, and his wife’s family he sent Gaveston into exile. Edward’s wife, Queen Isabella, came from an illustrious Royal house in France, and his emotional detachment from her was enough to cause consternation and disquiet from the French Monarchy.

    Medieval England had only a semblance of stability. There was always a hint of tension between the Crown and the noble ranks, particularly amongst the barons. This was enough to disturb and endanger the cohesion of the Kingdom. In addition to this, England had an almost intractable dispute with the rival Kingdom of Scotland, and the borderlands of Wales (known as the Marches). Edward II proved himself to be a disaster on both accounts. His attempts to reconcile these factions ended in tragedy.

    The King was evidently lacking in any resolve to improve hostilities, so the bullying barons decided the direction for him. Gaveston was murdered in grisly circumstances and his estranged wife began an affair with the notorious Marcher Lord, Roger Mortimer. Edward was humiliated, and his authority was weakened. He sought sanctuary in Wales, but he was later captured and then murdered at the behest of Mortimer.

    The Kingdom was effectively relinquished to Mortimer, who seized land and power for himself. However, in spite of his age, the new King used cunning to thwart the tyrannical influence of Mortimer. A meeting was due to take place at Nottingham Castle to debate the affairs of state. While Mortimer slept, Edward III and his troops entered the Castle via an underground tunnel. Mortimer received a sudden and rude awakening, as he was accosted, arrested, condemned and eventually executed at Tyburn as a traitor.

    Edward III was determined not to repeat the mistakes of his father. England had been left in a perilous state, and the King’s legacy was characterised by degeneracy and ignominy. He was keen to reverse the negative reputation of the office of King and acquired a deeper insight into the actual workings of the court, and worked hard to earn back the respect of the nobles.

    A unique and distinct aristocratic culture was cultivated by the King, inspired by the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. However in spite of all of these romantic allusions, nothing could ever disguise the fact that this was a society that glorified violence and conquest. Edward pursued both, with successful military campaigns in Scotland and France.

    The new soldier-King instituted St. George as the patron saint of England, supplanting native born saints particularly St Edmund. George was the saint of nobles and soldiers, and it seemed suitably apt and pertinent to adapt his legacy as an honourable example to follow for all true English gentlemen.

    The art of war almost became a personal obsession for him. Edward realised that a new weapon was proving to be a major success on the battlefield, namely the longbow. Consequently he enacted a law banning all sports, except archery. This one act consolidated England as a formidable and fearsome military power, as victory was guaranteed with a highly skilled army.

    The English people responded to the King’s prowess as a military leader with a renewed feeling of confidence, which was observed by the French chronicler Jean Froissart. He noted that, “the English will never love and honour their king unless he be victorious and a lover of arms and war against their neighbours and especially against such as are great and richer than themselves”. The campaign in France, in particular, was a source of pride, after the tribulations of the Norman Conquest.

    Edward’s impressive fifty year reign left an important legacy, chiefly in terms of England and its military capability. He was responsible for raising the standard of the English soldier, marching courageously under the banner of St. George. This is something which we must be thankful for, as he alone represents dignity and honour.