Culture

Culture

The good, the bad and the ugly in books, exhibitions, cinema, TV, dance, music, podcasts and theatre.

Midway: The overlooked battle

For many of us the Battle of Midway is just one more Hollywood spectacular in, to paraphrase Neville Chamberlain, a far-away sea of which we know little. But having recently taken a closer look at the battle I am struck both by what was at stake and what the consequences of the American victory were for the Allies at the time and geopolitics since then. When the Japanese attacked the American fleet at Pearl Harbour on 7 December 1941 they sank four battleships, destroyed 188 aircraft and damaged 159 other planes. Because, by sheer chance, there were no American carriers at Pearl Harbour on that day, the Japanese failed in their strategic aim: supremacy of the Pacific Ocean. They would have to fight again. The next major conflict between the two fleets was at Coral Sea in early May.

John Cleveland: discovering poetry

'Epitaph on the Earl of Strafford' ‘Here lies wise and valiant dust, Huddled up 'twixt fit and just: STRAFFORD, who was hurried hence 'Twixt treason and convenience. He spent his time here in a mist; A Papist, yet a Calvinist. His prince's nearest joy, and grief; He had, yet wanted all relief. The prop and ruin of the state; The people's violent love, and hate: One in extremes loved and abhorred. Riddles lie here; or in a word, Here lies blood; and let it lie Speechless still, and never cry.’ If Nick Clegg lived in bloodier times he might have ended up like Strafford by now. Executed on the eve of the civil wars, Strafford had a talent for alienating people who thought he was their natural ally.

Naomi Wolf, Marie Stopes and grand deceit

‘This man makes a pseudonym and crawls behind it like a worm,’ wrote Sylvia Plath in The Fearful. The weekend’s literary pages were gripped by a story of pseudonyms. R.J. Ellory, the well-regarded and critically acclaimed crime writer, has been caught penning rave reviews of his own work, and damning that of his rivals, under various pseudonyms on Amazon. Ellory ‘wholeheartedly’ regrets the ‘lapse of judgment’. The story recalls Orlando Figes’s dishonesty with Amazon reviews. Now as then, I’m at loss to understand why someone of Ellory’s reputation felt compelled to dive to this kind of petty chicanery.

Bookbenchers: Tim Farron | 2 September 2012

Liberal Democrat party president Tim Farron is on the books blog this evening sharing his favourite reads. He reveals which book he feels best sums up 'now' (which we hope for his sake says nothing about the state of his party), and says he'd most like to be a woman exploring outer space if he could choose to be a literary character.

Bookbenchers: Tim Farron

Tim Farron is president of the Liberal Democrats and shares his reading list with Spectator readers. Hopefully he is not thinking of the state of his own party when he suggests Lord of the Flies as the book that best sums up 'now', but in case he is, the next book he plans to read is all about 'the empty promises of love, money and power'. 1) Which book's on your bedside table at the moment? The Redeemer by Jo Nesbo. 2) Which book would you read to your children? Currently reading The Horse and His Boy by CS Lewis. 3) Which literary character would you most like to be? Ellie Arroway, the hero in Contact by Carl Sagan. 4) Which book do you think best sums up 'now'? Lord of the Flies by William Golding. 5) What was the last novel you read? A Troubled Man by Henning Mankel.

Roger McGough interview

As Roger McGough approaches 75, his latest collection of poems As Far As I Know shows him writing with the same blend of mischievous word play, subversion of cliché and distinctive sense of humor that makes him one of Britain’s most popular poets. McGough became a prominent force in the late 1960s when his poems were included in ‘The Mersey Sound’: a Penguin anthology that has since sold over a million copies. To date, McGough has published over fifty collections of poetry for both adults and children. His work has always reached a wide audience due to its incredible accessibility.

In England’s green and pleasant land

The idea came to me after I had just got back from South America after a long trip to Peru.  Perhaps because I was badly jetlagged, everything about England looked strange, different — and certainly worthy of as much exploration as I would give to a foreign country. The few other times I've ever had really bad jet lag — the sort where you walk in a trance, as if under water and sedation — have been when I've travelled abroad, not travelled home.  The only cure then has been total immersion in the new culture. So I felt like plunging into England — and to do so by the darker, underground ways, like a mole, tracking the older paths. It was easy to live in the countryside, as I did in Oxfordshire, and not know what was stirring beneath its surface.

Pippa Middleton cashes in

Mr Steerpike was overcome with joy when he read the press release from Pippa Middleton’s publishers. It told him that her forthcoming book Celebrate will be a 'useful, practical and inspiring journey into British-themed occasions, focusing on tradition.’ Well, thank goodness for that. What a treat. Over to the sister-in-waiting: ‘This book is designed to be a comprehensive guide to home entertaining, based on my experience in my family's party business, Party Pieces, and work for London-based events company, Table Talk.’ Two plugs in one sentence. Not bad. ‘I hope it offers welcome inspiration and ideas, most of which needn't leave you alarmingly out of pocket.

What comes after Fifty Shades?

After the record-breaking success of the Fifty Shades trilogy, publishers are desperately trying to answer the multi-million dollar question, what comes next? What will all those millions of readers who have raced through Fifty Shades want to read now? With a depressing lack of imagination, many publishers seem to have landed on the answer of more erotica. Each week, more and more shiny paperbacks with suggestive covers, claiming they are ‘the next Fifty Shades’, arrive in the bookshop where I work. If this is the future of reading, then it is bleak indeed.

Jeremy Vine’s survival guide

I first knew Jeremy Vine as a very young, charming, earnest and totally driven political correspondent for the BBC in the 1980s. So when I started reading It's All News to Me, I was dreading a rather worthy read. I was delightfully disappointed. This is a wonderful bitchfest of not quite malicious gossip and the power struggles at the BBC. In politics it is dog eat dog. At the beeb it is the other way round. Any aspiring broadcaster should use this book as a survival manual. There are some wonderful quotes. From former political editor Robin Oakley: ‘The people at the top of the BBC don't have very much power, so when they act, it tends to be very violent.’ The legendary John Sergeant has some crackers.

General Franco’s British foes

David Lomon was one of the lucky ones. While fighting in Aragon in south-west Spain in the spring of 1938, the former salesman from Hackney was captured by one of the 100,000 Italian soldiers sent by Mussolini to fight for General Franco’s forces. Incarcerated in a Francoist concentration camp, his experiences were horrifying — brutal guards, starvation rations, insanitary and verminous conditions and a decidedly uncertain future — but he did at least survive. Many of his compatriots did not. Almost one in five were killed and most were wounded at least once in their fight to defend the Spanish Republic in the civil war of 1936-1939, in what some observers have seen as the opening salvo of the Second World War.

The Visit – Shiva Naipaul Prize, 2007

The 2007 Spectator/ Shiva Naipaul Memorial Prize was won by Clarissa Tan. The prize, named after the late Trinidadian author, is for 'the most acute and profound observation of a culture evidently alien to the writer'. The judges that year included William Boyd, Matthew d’Ancona (then editor of The Spectator) and Mark Amory (literary editor of The Spectator). Clarissa is now a staff writer at The Spectator. To find out more about the Shiva Naipaul competition, and how you can enter, click here.   The Visit Clarissa Tan I wish to write about a place of which I know everything yet nothing, where everything is familiar yet strange, a place where I feel I go too often, but never quite enough. This place is the same for everyone, only different.

Entertaining Dr Murdock – Shiva Naipaul Prize, 2000

The Spectator/ Shiva Naipaul Memorial Prize for the year 2000 was won by Mary Wakefield. The judges included Antony Beevor; Patrick Marhnam; Boris Johnson, then editor of the magazine; and Mark Amory, who was and still is the Spectator's literary editor. Mary is now Deputy Editor of the Spectator. The Shiva Naipaul prize is awarded for travel writing, and other past winners include Hilary Mantel, Miranda France and John Gimlette. To learn more about the prize and how you can enter, click here. Entertaining Dr Murdock Mary Wakefield There's a narrow road heading east out of Denton, Texas, across the hot dust and prickly yellow grass.

Also not found in Essex: the worst lion headline ever – Spectator blogs

In honour of the Essex lion, which seems now to have passed into legend, here is another urban myth. This one is subeditorial. It concerns what was said to be the worst headline ever published in one of the regional newspapers where I was a trainee. Since I'm presenting it in its pure mythic form, as passed from subeditor to subeditor without contamination by fact-checking or archive searches, I am not going to name the newspaper in question. I was told the story in the early 2000s. It happened in the 1970s - recently enough that some of the paper's subs could claim to have been there (though no one ever claimed responsibility), but long enough ago for the anecdote to have been worn smooth in the telling. And it was a story about a lion.

Last rites | 28 August 2012

‘Village’, to most middle-Englanders, conjures up a cosy, living community. Perhaps the post office is threatened with closure or the bus timetable is to be cut, but the hanging baskets continue to be tended, the village green still hosts games of cricket, there are moneyed retirees or commuters eager to buy the houses. It is not like that, of course, in much of Britain’s Celtic fringe, and even less so in Europe’s more remote peasant communities. Political, social and economic change has drained many villages of their people, and only the old remain. Tom Pow visits one in Spain where the youngest inhabitant is seventy, and the sad conclusion of his book In Another World is that many villages ‘have only ten years of life left in them’.

Bookbenchers: Peter Wishart | 26 August 2012

Over on the books blog, SNP MP Pete Wishart shares his favourite books with Spectator readers. He reveals which tomes he'd save from a burning Scottish - rather than British- Library. There's plenty more Scots culture on offer, along with a tiger who came to tea, and the more practical reading material he'd set for his son now that he's a student.

Bookbenchers: Peter Wishart

Peter Wishart is the SNP Member of Parliament for Perth and North Perthshire, and the party's Westminster spokesman on culture, media and sport, among other areas. He shares his own books choices with Spectator readers this weekend. 1) Which books are on your bedside table at the moment? On my bedside table (or rather bedside ipad) just now is Skagboys by Irvine Welsh, the prequel to Trainspotting, and tributes and selected writings about Douglas Crawford, my SNP predecessor from the 70s. 2) Which book would you read to your children? Given he is now 21, and a student, it would probably be the current condition of the bank of dad. But when he was small he, and I, loved The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr (that was one bad cat) and the tales of Katie Morag.

Are You My Mother, by Alison Bechdel

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Alison Bechdel’s first book, Fun Home, enjoyed great acclaim: a memoir presented in comic-strip form, it described her father’s suicide and hidden homosexuality, her childhood visits to the family funeral home and Bechdel’s dawning realisation of her own lesbianism. The comic book does not immediately suggest itself as the ideal format for material of such intimacy and intermittent gruesomeness, but it worked. The dark humour of Charles Addams subverted the misery-memoir: Fun Home was hilarious, fascinating and very clever. Are You My Mother? is made from less gothic material. Where its predecessor brilliantly and unexpectedly wove Proust into the narrative, the current volume quotes a lot from Virginia Woolf and Freud.

The Heart Broke In, by James Meek

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This is a big juicy slab of a book, as thrilling and nourishing as a Victorian three-parter.  It resembles its forebears thematically, too.  It asks a straightforward question: how does one know how to do the right thing when there is no moral foundation for our actions?  Where the Victorians had a forthright Christianity, modern secularism has no such set of rules, and its absence means that our notions of right and wrong have to be more or less made up as we go along. This is particularly true for Richie Shepherd. Formerly lead singer of The Lazygods, and now the producer of a TV show celebrating teen mediocrity, Teen Make-over, he is almost comically able to rearrange his vices as virtues.

Philida, by André Brink

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The location of Philida is a Cape farm which used to be named Zandvliet and is now the celebrated vineyard Solms Delta, owned jointly by Richard Astor and the eminent neuropsychologist Mark Solms. It was Solms who brought to André Brink the story on which the veteran South African novelist bases his 21st work of fiction, which has been longlisted for the Man Booker prize. The novel’s eponymous heroine is based on a real-life slave who in 1824-32 worked as a knitting-girl at Zandvliet, which then belonged to collateral ancestors of the author.

Short Walks from Bogota, by Tom Feiling

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Ten years ago a cartoon appeared in the Independent showing the New World Order — Bush and Blair peering at a distorted global map with only one entry for South America: over Colombia was written ‘Coke-snorting bolshie gorillas’. Back then the Farc guerrillas were on the edge of the capital Bogotá, the country had the world’s highest kidnap rate and ‘failed state’ was considered its next realistic destination. Then even the title of this book would have been ironic, as to walk anywhere was to risk mugging or murder. Tom Feiling, a British journalist and film-maker who has written a previous book on the cocaine trade, knew Colombia in the bad old days.

The Roxburghe Club, by Nicolas Barker

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Book-collecting fraternities are far from uncommon, but none of them is the equal of their British progenitor, the Roxburghe Club, either in age or exclusivity.  This June the members celebrated its bicentenary, apparently in due style. At the inaugural dinner in 1812, 18 book-collectors, chaired by the Lord Spencer of the day, gathered to celebrate the sale at auction of the 3rd Duke of Roxburghe’s copy of a 1471 edition of Boccaccio, for which Lord Blandford had just paid £2,260, then a record price for a printed book. It was exceeded only in 1884, and meanwhile the antiquarian book market went through periods of despondency.

Caspar David Friedrich, by Johannes Grave

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In October 1810, the poet and dramatist Heinrich von Kleist substantially rewrote a review submitted to a publication he edited, the Berliner Abendblätter. Indeed, as few editors would dare — even in those days — he transformed its tone from critical to positive. The subject was a landscape by Caspar David Friedrich, ‘The Monk by the Sea’ painted c. 1808-10, which was exhibited in Berlin. In the course of his remarks Kleist came up with a startling metaphor: This painting, with its two or three mysterious elements, lies there like the apocalypse ... and since, in its monotony and boundlessness, it has nothing, other than the frame, that might serve as a foreground, the feeling one has gazing at it is as though one’s eyelids had been cut away.

Alexander Fiske-Harrison enjoys a ‘story slam’ at the Edinburgh Fringe

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The Edinburgh Fringe is a place of youthful hopes, naive dreams and occasional flashes of genuine inspiration. Usually these turn out to be very much flashes in the pan. But not so last Friday night’s ‘story slam’ at the Southall: a contest of storytelling between writers, poets and ne’er-do-wells divided into two teams, representing their home cities of Edinburgh and Chicago. The idea grew out of the ‘poetry slam’ format, invented in Chicago in 1980s, which was itself the child — or rather, the polite third cousin — of the ‘rap battle’ wars of words, in which aspiring hip-hop performers would twist language, rhythm and rhyme into weapons to wound an opponent’s amour-propre.

Sweet Tooth, by Ian McEwan

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‘I’m trying to help you, Serena. You’re not listening. Let me put it another way. In this work the line between what people imagine and what’s actually the case can get very blurred. In fact that line is a big grey space, big enough to get lost in. You imagine things — and you can make them come true. The ghosts become real. Am I making sense?’ You can’t say the heroine of Ian McEwan’s latest novel wasn’t warned. Serena Frome is a clever, pretty young woman who led a sheltered childhood as the daughter of an Anglican bishop: ‘We grew up inside a walled garden, with all the pleasures and limitations that implies.

The Hamlet of the trenches: Parade’s End reviewed

Ford Madox Ford’s Parade’s End is being republished as well as adapted for the screen by the BBC.  I first discovered the tetralogy when, in an attempt to improve my chances, I asked my future mother-in-law for a list of must-read novels.  Parade’s End and The Good Soldier featured near the top of the list. The Good Soldier is Ford’s most remembered work and at one time he considered it his first and last novel.  In his memoirs, Return to Yesterday, he recalls that on the 28th of June 1914, ‘there was to be no more writing for me—not even any dabbling in literary affairs.’  But then there was the war and he found himself in the Welsh Regiment, at forty-one years of age, living through what he termed ‘Armageddon.

Graham Greene, Penguin and an old spelling mistake – Spectator blogs

Mistakes will sometimes happen even in the best-run places. Pictured with this post, by way of proof, is a 1947 Penguin paperback of Graham Greene's The Lawless Roads, with the author's name misspelt on the spine. It's still common to talk of 'typographical errors', or typos, but back in 1947 there really was such a thing: it meant a mistake made by compositors at the printer, rather than by editors or designers. Probably this was one; certainly that is what someone will have tried to tell Allen Lane. These days any mistakes are definitely our fault - in the case of the printed Spectator, indeed, they are usually my fault, as chief sub. Which brings me to the other lesson of this book: how easily mistakes can be overlooked. I owned it for several years without ever seeing anything odd.

A gallimaufry of new words

Walk into a coffee shop on any high street today and you're confronted by an amazing array of caffeine-connected choices: flat white, red eye and doppio to name a few. We’ve become coffee connoisseurs with our own particular preferences for skinny or full fat, dry or wet. Yet the words we use to describe our favourite latte or cappuccino are fairly recent. We’ve only started to use them in the last five years or so as we’ve embraced the coffee culture of Australia and New Zealand (flat white), New York (red eye) and Italy (doppio). New trends demand new words and these global linguistic influences have quickly percolated into our daily routines. Like no other human activity, language holds up a mirror to our modern fascinations, insecurities and obsessions.