Gladstone's Library

A couple of years ago I spent a morning at Gladstone's Library in Hawarden in Flintshire at a workshop with the poet Wendy Cope; it was such an atmospheric, inspiring environment that I promised myself a return visit to get to know it a little better. Last weekend I eventually got there - but I really need to go again, preferably for a week, to properly immerse myself in it!

The publicity material for the library describes it as "a unique institution - a residential library and meeting place dedicated to dialogue, debate and learning for open-minded individuals and groups who are looking to explore pressing questions and to pursue study and research in an age of distraction and easy solutions". The four times Victorian prime minister founded the library in 1895; on his death, public subscription paid for the amazing Grade 1 listed building that houses it and Gladstone's family later funded the addition of the residential wing which has now welcomed visitors from all over the world for the last hundred and twelve years. The library itself is free to use and there's a wide variety of courses each year covering everything from literature to theology, philosophy to languages, some running for just a day - or even an evening - others for a week. Many people use the facilities for private writing retreats too - they certainly lend themselves to that sort of activity.

I was there this last weekend for a course with the poet Judy Brown, advertised as a "playful masterclass"; it was certainly most enjoyable. Judy teaches and mentors for the Poetry School and the Poetry Society and was previously a writer-in-residence at the library. There were sixteen of us on the course and we benefited greatly from the one-to-ones on offer as well as the group sessions. Sadly, most of the other writing courses at the library later this year are already sold out - but I'm determined to get back before too long under some pretext (although "Greek in a Week" may not be quite my cup of tea!).

"Village Green Screen"

On Monday I went to the Segments poetry group in Hereford, one of the monthly sessions run by Sara Jane Arbury as part of the Ledbury Poetry Festival outreach service. It was held in the museum and art gallery, where we were working with Faye Claridge's very thought provoking "Village Green Screen" exhibition. From a Morris dancing family herself, Fay's promotional material describes it as "a place to explore the changing context for black face paint in traditional Border Morris" - something that in contemporary society raises deeply-felt issues for many people. For me a number of questions surfaced, mainly about the validity  and the value of tradition. Part of the exhibition was given over to what I can best describe as a huge spider diagram, outlining research into "blacking up" and current comments about the practice. One of the quotes in particular struck a chord - I have written on this in the past but may well be pursing it further now in the future in the light of my own changing perceptions -

Tuesday saw our monthly poetry group in Charlton Kings. A number of us have had personal issues which have affected our writing in recent weeks; once again I was very aware of the value of peer group support in the often tough world of lone endeavour. A group in which people can feel that both they and their work are understood and valued, in which they can be stimulated but not pressurised is invaluable. And it's a great pleasure to be able to celebrate each other's literary achievements - and good to be able to support and commiserate when things don't go so well (the inevitable rejections etc!). We're currently working on some more ekphrastic poems - building on work we did a couple of years ago at the Wilson Museum and Art Gallery that formed the basis of our "Poetry Amongst The Paintings" publication. Using another art form from which to create something new is an area which has interested me for a while. My enthusiasm was initially sparked by the American poet Tamar Yoseloff at a workshop at the Swindon Art Gallery, when a painting by Kyffin Williams prompted "Intrusion". Since then paintings - and to a lesser degree photographs - have been a regular source of inspiration.

Intrusion

The Dark Lake, Kyffin Williams

A winter morning numb with cold; 

we are interlopers in this barren land,

hushed by the echoes

of quarrymen's rough-shod feet

striking out on sunless paths 

of splintered slate.

Their absence haunts each cwm, each crag -

taunts our timorous footsteps 

as we trespass in their slag.

(Copyright Gill Garrett 2013, first published in "Separate Ways" Blue Gates Poets 2013)

"Deeds not words"

Mary Garrett, nee Morgan,
c. 1915

My paternal grandmother was 48 before the law of the land permitted her to cast her vote in a general election.That was in 1918, by which time she had been married for 27 years, given birth to nine children, sacrificed her oldest son to the First World War and her oldest daughter to the influenza pandemic, given decades of selfless service to her church and community. My maternal grandmother, similarly a model citizen but not of the property-owning class, would wait twelve further years before she could cast hers, at the age of 43. Both would be told by their husbands for whom they should vote.

Today, all over the country, the centenary of the Representation of the People Act 1918 is being celebrated and the women who fought so hard for their suffrage are being remembered and honoured. Last night I went to a talk given by Angela V. John, the historian and biographer, on Margaret, Lady Rhondda, a leading suffragette in my home town of Newport in South Wales in the early 20th century. Margaret was a courageous and determined woman - she was certainly an important one, but only one in the long line of courageous and determined women that stretches way back in time and place and still grows now, as women worldwide continue to struggle for true equality.

One historical figure who fascinates me is Olympe de Gouges, who preceded the suffragettes by a century. In revolutionary France - which, in many ways, especially with regard to gender, was very reactionary - she strove for women's freedom from the constraints and expectations of her time. She was a playwright, an abolitionist and the author of "Declaration des Droits des Femmes" (Declaration of the Rights of Women). Like her British sisters a hundred years later, she was fearless in the face of  censure and violence. Witnesses to her execution during the Reign of Terror in November 1793 spoke of the dignity with which she went out to meet her end.
 

Liberté, égalité, solidarité féminine?

They anticipate the thrill of death,

watch and wait in the chill

of this autumn evening.

Flares light their faces.

The walk is not far, nor unexpected,

for one who trod my path,

each step a stride toward

the égalité I sought.

They will allow no words.

My face must speak for my lips,

my composure declare

the verity of my cause,

my courage ignite their hearts.

Denied the right to mount the speaker's platform,

I have the right to mount this scaffold.

(Copyright Gill Garrett 2016)

Once upon a time ...

This week has been National Story Telling Week; I've not been able to get to any of the live events that have abounded around the country but I've much enjoyed listening to several short stories on the radio and some of the collections that I have on CD. Philip Pullman's quote "After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the things we need most in the world" certainly rings true for me - from childhood I've been entranced by the power of well-told tales. At one point when my children were young, we had long drives to and from school and they too became avid listeners to tapes of folk stories, myths and legends and later became great readers of them. How important it is that, despite the overloaded curricula schools now struggle with, some time is still given to story telling!

And a real "find" this week. For the times when I'm living "over the border" in the Wye Valley, I've just discovered some wonderful poetry sessions not too far away in Hereford, run by Sara-Jane Arbury as part of the Ledbury Poetry Festival outreach programme. Yesterday I spent the morning at the Women4Women group and thoroughly enjoyed it; I'm really looking forward to continuing my involvement there. In the meantime I'm at last completing the "Fragments" project that has taken rather longer than I anticipated! I'm delighted that one of the poems from the collection, "Morning Service", will appear in Snakeskin, the on-line poetry zine, which this month is dedicated to "Portraits". There's some really interesting poetry in Snakeskin - do check it out if you're not familiar with the site. I only recently came across it but it's certainly well worth taking a look at.