War Poetry

Poetry from those taking part in conflicts has always seemed to me to be much more poignant and meaningful than that of a pacifist writing from the comfort of a nice cosy office, study or drawing room. The messages are much more hard hitting, and the images so much scarier from someone actually experiencing life in Afghanistan in 2009 or the Somme in 1916.

The following is a poem written by a soldier serving in Helmand:

Author's introduction-
This poem concerns the current operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. My intention was to draw parallels between military operations using the poppy which is grown extensively for opium and ironically is also the symbol we use for Remembrance Day.

Helmand


Night on the cold plain,
invisible sands lift,
peripheral shadows stir,


space between light and dark
shrouding secrets;
old trades draped grey.


Here too poppies fall,
petals blown on broken ground,
seeds scattered on stone


and this bright bloom,
newly cropped,
leaves pale remains,


fresh lines cut;
the old sickle wind
sharp as yesterday.


John Hawkhead
2009

This poem and many others appear on the War Poetry Website .

Book Review: Berlin Noir by Philip Kerr

Maybe it's because I love travel, history and the darker side of life that I enjoyed reading this trilogy so much. Berlin Noir is the first three in a series of books written by Philip Kerr about Berlin detective Bernie Gunther. These three, March Violets, The Pale Criminal and A German Requiem are set in pre-war Berlin and post-war Vienna.

The books superbly create the atmosphere of the times and to someboy interested in history, especially German history in the first half of the twentieth century, the books are especially evocative. I have read few books about day to day life in Nazi Germany and these books added an extra depth to my understanding of life under the Nazis. The mood of the time is portrayed every bit as vividly as the great Patrick Hamilton writing about Britain in the same era.

Gunther is a fairly typical detective, highly moral, down to earth and slightly down at heel. His life is as battered by the events of the time as everybody else's was, which is the special attraction of these books. Issues of the time are confronted and the totalitarianism and anti-Semitism of Nazi Germany is confronted head on, with Gunther often being turned to for help by Jewish clients. But this isn't done in a mawkish or sermonising way, which makes the underlying message all the more powerful.

The plots are intricate but not confusing and the characters in the stories, from Gunther to post-war American intelligence operatives, are believable and real.  Personal lives and problems make these stories stand apart from many novels of the same genre, but again Kerr doesn't overplay or sentimentalise these aspects of his characters so the book never veers too far away from the crime/political thrillers that they so wonderfully are.

In fact my wife is considering starting one of my many Scandinavian crime novels by way of an introduction to the world of the foreign detective novel, maybe Bernie Gunther would be a fine introduction as she shares my love of European history. I would happily recommend Philip Kerr's books to her and to anybody else looking for crime stories that are not your run of the mill affairs. I look forward to starting on Kerr's fourth Gunther novel in the not too distant.

Book Recommendation: Jenni Thornley, 'Trust in Matt'

I've previously posted about Jenni's first book, The Sail Turns, and am pleased to recommend her second, Trust in Matt.

Matt Stevens, having completed his history degree, undertakes the investigation of the Tindall family and the history of Netherby Hall, their home since 1458. He discovers how their lives affected those around them and makes a sinister discovery, with the help of his young friend Christopher. The story also follows the ups and downs of the personal relationships of people in Matt's life.

Jenni has a nice relaxed style and it's a pleasure to read her work. She is currently working on her third book which will complete this trilogy.

Her books are available online at Smashwords.

Book Review: The Snowman by Jo Nesbo

Not for the squeamish this one by one of Scandinavia's finest. Indeed, on current form Jo Nesbo is seriously challenging Henning Mankell for the title of Scandinavia's king of crime.

Harry Hole is still battling addiction to alcohol and his addiction to the love of his life Rakel, who can't live with Harry but can't live without him. The book is a subtle shocker that does send shivers down the spine. Nesbo has mastered the wonderful art of shocking without being gory or overtly sensationalist. A great skill which adds to the dark atmosphere of a Norwegian autumn/winter.

There are more twists and turns in The Snowman than there are on a mountain pass, but they never seem contrived and keep you wanting to read just one more page before you go to bed, work, out for the night or whatever you have to do. The glue that holds Nesbo's books together, taking them to a level beyond mere crime stories, is the close observation and portrayal of human emotions and the destruction that can come from the deepest emotions of love.

I was never a great lover of crime books, until I started on Mankell a few years ago. Nesbo has merely taken my addiction to another level. I am desperate to read his newest novel (The Leopard), but don't want to run out of Harry Hole books just yet. Do yourself a favour and read The Snowman, but prepare to be chilled.

Book Recommendation: Jenni Thornley, 'The Sail Turns'

One of the great things about the internet is the doors it has opened. Frustrated journalists can start emagazines or blogging, entrepeneurs can find new markets and so on. Publishing has also opened up so that people who have suddenly discovered they can write, or have always secretly dreamt of being published, can get on and do it.
 
One such writer is a friend of mine Jenni Thornley. Jenni has just e-published two books, the first of which is The Sails Turn. Following is a description of her book and at the end is a link to the website where you can purchase it, which I think you should:
 
Professor Paul Cork buys the derelict Gatesby Windmill intending to restore it and open it to the public as a working windmill and museum of the past life of the village. With the help of his neighbours the Stephens (Jim, Alice, Matt and David) and the Drabbles (Ted, Sandra and Beth) and a group of students (Tony, Joe and Pat) from his university history class, the story takes place in modern Lincolnshire over a two year period.

During the restoration process, documents; letters, bills and photographs from the 1850’s are discovered and lead Matt and Beth to investigate the lives of the family (Colledge) who once lived at the windmill and their neighbours in the village.
Mr Lawson, an elderly farmer whose ancestors knew the Colledge’s, provides more letters and diary entries to help with the historical research.

As work on the windmill gradually progresses with explanations about the repairs and how the windmill works, the social life of the present day village is explored as relationships between the main characters develop.

During the course of restoring a garden around the windmill, a child’s skeleton is discovered and having been told it is probably from the 1850’s, the investigation moves to finding out whether or not it is one of the children from the windmill. When they discover it is not, the search widens.

Pat secretly knows who the child buried in the grounds is, how he died and why he is buried there; his ancestor witnessed an accident and blackmailed Colledge, profiting for more than fifteen years from his fear of disgrace and loss of social standing.

Meanwhile, Paul looks into Alice’s own family history as their relationship develops. She reads diaries left by Sally Colledge and becomes emotionally close to her and her family. Paul realises Alice is related to the Colledges as well as another family in the modern village (Clarkes).

Certain aspects of Victorian society are explored, questioned and contrasted with modern life. The theme that life repeats itself – the sails turn – is discussed.
 Other villagers look for documents which may prove useful to the investigation and discover other secrets going on in the village – an illegitimate child of a major figure.

The penultimate chapter is set in 1854 from Sally Colledge’s point of view, giving an insight into a day in her life and the sort of social interaction she may have encountered.

I'm looking forward to reading the full book which will eventually become part of a trilogy.

You can get the book here at Smashwords.

Episodes

Last night saw the seventh and final episode of Episodes, and it was a very strange experience watching it all the way through each of the seven weeks.

It was the tale of Bev and Sean, a husband and wife writing team invited to Hollywood to script an American version of their hit UK comedy series. The star in their pilot episode is Matt LeBlanc, playing himself. Bev was played by Tamsin Greig, of Black Books and Green Wing and Stephen Mangan, of Green Wing and Dirk Gently played Sean.

The series constantly teetered on the brink of smugness, with Tamsin Greig massively overplaying her middle class 'what is happening to me?' persona. Her habit of stretching every other sentence to emphasise seemingly uncalled for exasperation became annoying after episode one. At one point last night she even did a bizarre female version of the Frank Spencer oohhh what have I done Betty body twist and face pull. Very odd.

Stephen Mangan became equally annoying very early on with his constant expression of little boy lost in a great big world he doesn't really understand or belong in. How does somebody so disconnected from the real world manage to write anything with any credibility?

Matt le Blanc saved the day in just about every episode with an understated parody of himself as a Hollywood star, looking for his first vehicle after the hit series Friends. His performance was warm and highly amusing, not to say ironic.

As ever the writers seem to be to blame. It was a typical bland Islington tale of two middle class writers going to the States to find highly caricatured actors and studio executives. The humour was juvenile in the extreme, including jokes about the size of Matt LeBlanc's private parts. If the writers thought it was risque it wasn't, it brought an unnecessary element of sleaze in reality.

It was so caricatured and lazily stereotypical that if it had been set in Bolly rather than Hollywood it would have been condemned as racist. The writers have apparently never seen witty and intelligent US sitcoms such as Frazier, Rosanne or Cheers to name but three, and instead chose to lazily portray US TV as aimed at the educationally subnormal.

It was actually quite enjoyable you might be surprised to hear. A bit like a Chinese meal, the anticipation was there, it was quite pleasant during, then afterwards you wondered why? Typically smug BBC television I suppose.

The end showed the dumbed down pilot episode a great success, leaving the door open for another series, which I think I'll be giving a miss.

Common Cold: Poetry by Ogden Nash

It's that time of year when many people are suffering from sniffles and colds. So here's a particularly relevant poem by American poet Ogden Nash:

Common Cold

Go hang yourself, you old M.D,!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
In not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.

By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever's hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!

Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The Führer of the Streptococcracy.

Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.

A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!