Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not; a sense of humour to console him for what he is.

Achene. Front yard, Marieville Esplanade, Sandy Bay. September 2012.

Three books this week, well, two plays and one Regency romance (written in 1944) to be precise...

The Caretaker, Harold Pinter: A play in three acts, largely a psychological study of lonliness, power, allegiance, innocence and corruption. Set in a dingy room with a cast no larger than two brothers and a tramp, this is quite a claustrophobic treat. B+.

An Inspector Calls, J.B. Priestley: Another three-act drama, this time set in 1912. A wealthy middle-class family receives a visit by a mysterious fellow calling himself Inspector Goole, who interrogates the family about the suicide of a young working-class woman. Essentially a scathing critique of the hypocrisies of Edwardian society and a premonition of the inevitable Socialist future. Striking. B+.

Friday's Child, Georgette Heyer: Incredibly silly romance featuring a cast of oddball characters and improbable set pieces. Although some of the tone jars a bit - think He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss) - if you're after some escapist fare and enjoy bounders and cads 'getting theirs', you could do worse. C.

Comments

Carola said…

Outstanding photo!
Great focus, perfect light, what a front garden scenery.

2 November 2012 at 21:17

Kris McCracken said…

The lady whose house it is was wondering what I was doing though...

3 November 2012 at 09:24

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog