Showing posts with label strawberry hill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strawberry hill. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The V&A


I find the V&A entrancing and infuriating in almost equal measure. I’ve been visiting it for the best part of twenty years yet its layout is still a total mystery to me. There was a whole run of rooms devoted to furniture that I saw in 1995 and have never found again, also a staircase with a scale model of (I think) Ranelagh Gardens at the top – it was a big model so I wonder what happened to it. I know I didn’t imagine these things because I was with twenty other History of Art students at the time – we had quite a lecture on the garden model.

It’s maddening but it’s also part of what makes the V&A so magical – rather like Hogwarts perhaps. The cast court is pretty amazing as well – some of the casts are just mind bogglingly huge, it was a real pleasure to be able to introduce the Scottish one to it; like discovering it for the first time all over again. At this point I have to say if you don’t know the V&A or haven’t bothered with the cast court then do check it out – it’s amazing (as I’m sure Rachel from Book Snob will confirm if she reads this), although to be fair the whole place is just the most amazing collection of stuff ever – truly one of the world’s great museums.

The reason for being at the V&A was for the ‘Horace Walpole and Strawberry Hill’ exhibition (6th march to 4th July). I’ve wanted to visit actual Strawberry Hill ever since the same professor who guided us around the V&A lectured on it, my ambition should finally be realised this autumn when it re-opens. In preparation I mean to read ‘The Castle of Otranto’. I was going to read it before the exhibition only to discover that I’ve never acquired a copy, a situation now fixed (I’m pleased and a little impressed to report that the V&A bookshop stocks the Oxford World Classics edition of ‘The Castle of Otranto’ which happens to be the cheapest...)

I will admit that it’s the sort of book that I read, if not actually out of a sense of duty, at least partly as a box ticking exercise in an attempt to get as complete a picture as possible of whatever is currently interesting me. Having seen the exhibition I’m keener to read it for itself. Horace Walpole is a fascinating character; if I was having the fantasy dinner party he would certainly be on the guest list (I wonder what he would make of Vita Sackville-West who would also be at the table.) and he pops up in the most unexpected places; for example first encountered by me in Georgette Heyer, which isn’t so unexpected given her level of research, but still seems a little unlikely. I wonder also what Walpole would have made of that – his portrait, at least the Reynolds versions, show a shy looking man, which he seems to have been. On the other hand he loved to show off his ‘little gothic castle’ so maybe he would have enjoyed his guest appearances in historical romances, and he would have been delighted to know how much admired Strawberry Hill still is, and that it's still a source of inspiration to artists like the wonderful Claire Dalby (who's woodcut has pride of place on my wall).

Sunday, March 7, 2010

The Grumpy Old Sailor

After being away for most the week (and wondering why I had no clean clothes for the rest of the week) my mood by Friday night was somewhat despondent. The Scottish one has been exceptionally busy recently as well; conflicting work patterns have stopped our paths crossing as much as they could. However he came up more than trumps by taking me out for dinner, and on Saturday morning after a very early visit from my mother (who wanted a signature for a shot gun licence – we’re trying not to argue with her) he said lets go to London.

London is an hour and a half and something over £50 pounds away by train, so it normally involves planning and budgeting for me, but as he was offering to cough for the fair I couldn’t say no, so off we went. The object of the visit was the Strawberry Hill exhibition at the V&A – which was excellent, and the V&A generally – I’ve not visited for years, and the Scottish one, quite unaccountably does not know it at all well. We loved the cast court, especially the life size cast of Trajan’s column in two bits, and he was hugely taken by some concrete (architect) stairs we walked up; all in all it was a grand day out topped off by a parcel from my dad when I got home.

What he’s sent me is a children’s book called ‘The Grumpy Old Sailor’ (which appealed to the Scottish one, who likes to sail) and appealed to me because it’s lavishly and beautifully illustrated. I wanted to write about it because it fits with the island reading I’ve done over the last few weeks, but I admit I have no idea how to write about a children’s book, partly because I have no idea what children enjoy but here goes anyway.

‘The Grumpy Old Sailor’ is written by Janice Armstrong and illustrated by Meilo So, it’s the first of four planned books from the duo who are both based in Shetland. It’s about four children and an old sailor (quite grumpy initially) and the relationship they build before he heads off on his final journey. The language is a mix of prose and poetry which sounds nice read aloud, but the story itself is quite poignant. I think books like this are meant to be read aloud to children, and looked at by them, rather than read by them. I’ve been drawn back to the book throughout the day to properly work out what’s happening – it’s still a bit mysterious, but if I wanted to explain death to a small child I think this would be a good place to start.

Despite how that sounds it’s not a depressing book, but it is affecting – which is no bad thing for children, the morals aren’t hammered home, and the pictures are wonderful. Strongly rooted in place I still think it’s a book that will travel well, and one I hope to give to quite a few families this year particularly because I really love the illustrations. There is a cat that keeps appearing that I had to go back and hunt out in every page and dozens of other details that I really enjoyed – so thank you dad, a great book for children from six to thirty six.