I have enjoyed reading from a young age but I suspect quite a lot of what I once read as a kid would be deemed “unsuitable” nowadays – Enid Blyton being just one target of the pseudo-intelligentsia. Not sure how I feel about that to be honest – at the bottom (sorry, that just slipped out), it’s a kind of censorship – censorship of the mind, an erosion of freedom. All books are a product of their time, for good or bad. There’s always “bad” stuff out there but we don’t need the nanny state approach to decide what is appropriate for us to read. Many books contain what have become non-PC words and also display frowned-on attitudes, but most of what passed as “literature” back then was created when sensibilities about gender, race, religion and exploration were very different to those of today. Rather than condemn them out of hand, better to shake the head smugly as if to say “they didn’t know any better, bless them”; or wait for more enlightened and tolerant times when “pc” comes to mean “past caring”. To still be able to make our own judgement about issues such as eg swear words, always assuming their inclusion is relevant to the plot and the era, serves as a poignant reminder of how things used to be and the progress that has been achieved. We should be encouraging tolerance and forgiveness, not condemnation and revenge. Remember Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451?
For example, to watch a modern film supposedly set in the fifties where nobody can be seen smoking cigarettes would be an artistic travesty. Indeed, from today’s perspective, the sight of an entire generation hooked on nicotine, ignorant of or in total denial of the consequences to the heart and lungs, might actually serve as a wake-up call to some. Drugs for instance: “I wonder what it’s like?” Can’t say I’ve ever been tempted myself – might as well ask the same question about jumping off a high-rise building – the end result would be the same: most “experiences” usually do come to an end with a bump! Yes, I used to smoke. It wasn’t cool – it was normal. Twenty a day until I switched over to a pipe – now that provided a “real fix” – my brother always reckoned he could judge the progress of absorption by the not-so whites of my eyes! Nowadays? Haven’t smoked anything for over thirty years.
But back to the books. In similar “pc” vein, I don’t recollect the same objections being raised to a number of other children’s books doing the rounds when I was younger which, to be honest, would hardly be considered suitable today. We had “Pinocchio”, “Peter Pan”, “Alice in Wonderland” and “Coral Island”. Ever read Coral Island? It’s really scary – and my edition was illustrated! And more recently, actively promoted as being good reading material for seven year olds, we have Roald Dale. You say, “How dare you; I loved “Fantastic Mr Fox” and “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. Would you feel the same if you knew that “Charlie” was originally written as a black character – changed on the advice of his agent; and the idea behind the “The Twits” stemmed from Roald Dale’s hatred of facial hair. I’m okay with his books – just not sure about the age-range suitability. Try reading “George’s Marvellous Medicine” – it’s only a short story and won’t take very long. Although dedicated to doctors everywhere, it was necessary to publish it with a warning to readers! You know what I mean, “Don’t try this at home.” – advice guaranteed to deter young, exploring minds from “having a go” – Ha, ha!
Read lots of books over the next few years – mainly books published before the war because of paper rationing and so many of those books were inherited from a much older cousin – and his Dinky toys too! Boys’ books from that era tended to be adventure books such as Biggles or about cub reporters or public school life: “Schoolboy Grit” and “Shandy of Ringmere School” spring to mind. Character-shaping, you know what, old boy! And of course there were the old favourites such as “The Jungle Book” and “The Works of Conan Doyle”.
Meanwhile, at school we were being drip-fed material considered appropriate to our age group – “King Solomon’s Mines”, “The Moonstone” and “Oliver Twist” until, when preparing for GCE, we were catapulted suddenly into the likes of “Great Expectations”, “Northanger Abbey” and “Kips”. Although no-doubt earthshattering masterpieces of their time, many of the school books I was obliged to study for GCE were written during or about periods in British history long since dead and buried. To me they hardly seemed relevant to the world in which I was brought up. Mind you, the teachers did a good job. I was certainly well schooled in regurgitating all the appropriate passages – English Lit was my second highest GCE grade – and I can still recite long soliloquies from Julius Caesar, Henry V and extracts from the poems of Matthew Arnold. (I like poetry as it happens and the works of Matthew Arnold is one of several books that I’ve somehow managed to squeeze onto my bookshelf.) I’ve got that kind of mind it seems, evidenced by the fact that I can recite most of the “Hums” from “The House at Pooh Corner” and Longfellow’s “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.”
Outside of school I loved Tom Sawyer, despite the repeated use of the “n” word. I had no idea how offensive it was to be labelled thus, but Twain, in similar vein as Dickens, was a critical observer of his time. I found Tom Sawyer to be witty, funny and full of pathos. Although not attuned to the context of the deep south, I could relate to the audacity and adventurous spirit of being a boy, young and free. And Charles Dickens’ sidekick, Wilkie Collins, also wrote “No Name” – about women’s rights, which sadly still has relevance today. But to those who set GCE reading choices, that was not a topic anybody wanted the next generation to become excited about.
But in addition to these, the County Library and school library contained infinitely greater variety, and many of the books I found there were relevant to the age I was growing up in. Only later, through the emergent medium of the affordable paperback, did new, popularist authors come onto the scene. As a child of the “Bulge”, living through the imminent threat of the “Bomb”, books such as “Grapes of Wrath”, “We of Nagasaki” and “On the Beach” still stand out to me even now, portraying dramatically events of the recent past, the present and a possible future. And during the same decade that I was reading these (1960’s), secure in my family home (ignoring temporarily the whims and antics of Nikita Khrushchev and JFK), orphans from the UK were being transported “to a better life” out in Australia (some described it retrospectively as ‘white slavery’); and there were young girls being forced to give up for adoption their illegitimate children! No surprise then that the irony of Jane Austen somehow passed me by.
The library proved to be a veritable gold mine. ‘The Hobbit’, ‘Kinglake’s Eothen’, ‘No Highway’ (which eventually set me on a course to study metallurgy after leaving school), ‘Lost Horizon’ and many, many more. Alexander Dumas was one writer that certainly struck a chord with me – I still re-read “The Count of Monte Cristo” if I’m too lazy to search out something else. I also enjoyed ‘Mist over Pendle’ – and still do. And after Conan Doyle, I discovered more modern crime writers such as Agatha Christie, Arthur Upfield and Dorothy L Sayers; and a couple of years further on I came across PD James’ “Cover Her Face”.
And then the paperbacks really came into their own – Hammond Innes, Alistair McLean, Ian Fleming plus many more kept me busy during my secondary school years, interleaved with darker stuff from the likes of Graham Greene, Hemmingway and Steinbeck. And the ones that stand out for me – amazing really that I can remember half of them – were books about ships and the sea such as ‘Moby Dick’, ‘The Cruel Sea’, ‘Lord Jim’ and ‘Nostromo’. I thought they made a pretty accurate film portrayal of “The Sea Chase” and another book that I enjoyed was “Two Years Before the Mast”. And of course there were C S Forester and Douglas Reeman. I must admit that “The Sea – The Sea” caught me out, although later I did begin to appreciate the “true novel” as opposed to just a good story. So the likes of Woolf, Hartley, Cowper-Powys, Walpole, Morgan, Lessing and many more came later – usually the one “good read” alongside a handful of the new generation of page turners, these courtesy of Mankell, Cornwell, Grisham, Goddard, Robinson and La Plant.
But in this brief ramble, I have omitted the one kind of book that probably helped to shape my reading habits more than any other. Originally, these were books that my elder brother borrowed from a school mate (probably belonged to his Dad) and somehow or other, like a lot of things relating to my brother, they never found their way back to their rightful owner. Remember “Astounding Science Fiction” and “Galaxy Science Fiction”? Within their pages were published short stories and novella submitted by names previously unknown to me, such as Asimov, Heinlein, Sturgeon, Dick, Herbert, Anderson, Silverberg and many more. Some of the titles still pop up in my head just thinking back… “Sand Doom”, “The Ambulance Made Two Trips”, “Drop Dead”, “Woman Driver”, “The Gentle Earth”, “The End of Eternity” and many more.
These were thought provoking, imaginative and massively entertaining – nothing like the Dan Dare picture books I grew up on. Oh! There you go… another memory trail has just opened up: the picture book! Defined by US culture, at least until the spy novel came into vogue, everything in my early childhood related to “Cowboys and Indians” – the subject of all our games, our toys, the pictures (“movies” nowadays) and TV series. Of course nowadays it’d have to be “gender-neutral, cowboys and native Americans” – always assuming it’s appropriate that “cowboys” should appear first. Tom Mix was my favourite Western character from the picture book stories and later, on TV, it was The Lone Ranger. Poor Mum was destined to endure the Western cult for decades – at least until film producers twigged onto the fact that the “little woman” had taken over the viewing AND the spending choices. And nowadays everything is about the woman’s preferences. There was no balancing up – just a massive swing in the opposite direction. Favourite catchphrase of the modern journalist (and also my Sat-Nav) – there was a “U” turn.
On TV for instance, there are still a few crime series knocking about, but none of the senior characters go around in trilby hats any more (except for throwbacks such as ‘Endeavour’). Instead they sport a permanent wave and wear lipstick and have become increasingly of ethnic extraction. However, if you’re of SE Asian extraction, please stop reading right away – your emancipation into the upper echelons of the fictional police force has yet to happen. Scott & Bailey has taken emancipation to the very extreme where its male characters have become objects of ridicule. And the rest of TV is made up of Soaps – hospital soaps, regional soaps, neighbourhood soaps; endless quiz shows, get rich quick shows which encourage gambling, home economic contests (sewing, cooking & baking), wanna-be singing / dancing / ice skating phone-in competitions and other heavily gender-oriented material – interspersed with embarrassing, woman-focussed advertising. Perhaps women are immune to the likes of dhobi itch – oops, maybe ‘dhobi’ is racist – let’s go with jock itch (with a small “J”, please note: don’t want to offend those north of the border). Anyway, it sure looks like Mum got her own back!
To launch the fight-back, I’d be more than happy to write the pilot episode of a new male-focussed soap: “Big-Enders”. (‘The Grease Monkeys’ has already happened apparently!) Picture the scene:
A recovery vehicle arrives at the front of a run-down garage, located inside a railway arch somewhere in the middle of Norwich (the Norfolk accent is a real bugger to get right).
After releasing the wheel clamps, the driver winches a 55 plate BMW down onto the concrete apron. Sliding out from underneath an old Volvo estate up on the ramps, the owner of the repair shop, his generous beer belly protruding through greasy, unfastened overalls, gets laboriously to his feet and wanders over to take a look.
The recovery driver, a token Trans and ethnic cast member of south east Asian descent, reels off, “Battery 45%; oil low and really tacky. Suspect head gasket. Driver complains of steam or smoke coming out from under the bonnet. Temperature off the scale. London driver – I mean, what do you expect?”
Lifting the bonnet, Charlie pronounces, “Yer. Gonner have to admit this one.” Pulling hard at the battery lead (which comes off in his hand) he adds, “Could even be a terminal case.”
They laugh.
“Hey Joe! Get you arse over here and take a gander; tell me what you think.”
Touching up his lipstick, the recovery vehicle driver asks, “Is Joe an expert on this kind of thing then?”
“Yer. Joe’s a neuro-engine specialist.”
They laugh.
At this point an attractive woman slides out from the passenger-side door of the recovery vehicle and in her high heels clicks her way over to the group of men. “’Ow bad is it? Is it really serious?”
Charlie puts his grease covered arm around the lady’s shoulder.
“Ay up me Duck; Better come with me to the family room. Let me explain things for you in lay-person’s terms: tell you what we think the matter is.”
Theme tune breaks in to mark the end of the episode. The hand-picked cast, judged to have at least fifty years so-called acting stamina left in them, feature prominently on the front cover of “TV Weakly” under the banner headline “Shock recall of aging classic!”. The picture has a “Watchdog” insert in the bottom right-hand corner, cunningly placed to disguise the BMW emblem. Both mechanics, with their heads deep inside the engine cavity, no longer dressed in dark blue overalls, display their builder’s bums. Joe, the one holding a high-tech instrument in his right hand – an ammeter or defibrillator maybe, is caught in the act of ripping off his face mask. “Don’t miss the next gasket-blowing episode!”
I don’t think so, somehow… maybe the BBC, perhaps.
Science fiction stories cover a variety of scenarios. Harping back to the past, practically every one of those imaginative masterpieces is now categorised by publishers and magazine editors as “cliched”. Can’t say that space travel ever really appealed to me – school science taught me that beyond our solar system such a thing is nigh impossible – except within the realms of science fiction! Alien worlds provide infinitely more scope to come up with a new twist – but more often as not it’s the clash of alien and US American culture that underlines the plot. And the ones that don’t, really do stand out – Frank Herbert’s Dune; Asimov’s Foundation and Aldiss’ Helliconia provide good examples of this and that’s because they portray the impact of some cultural, economic or natural change in the order of things – or a disaster, usually resolved by a very much off-the-wall solution.
Brian Aldiss endures because science fiction was not his only genre – Forgotten Life for instance is about mid-life crisis and much, much more. I still search out stuff of his that I’ve not read yet and I can’t say that about many authors. And there’s also the paranormal and futuristic and … the list is endless and growing all the time – if only for the reason that, through the paranormal gateway, the boundaries between Sci-Fi and Fantasy have become blurred. Tolkien, Donaldson and Pratchett spring to mind – but I reckon that everything posing as science fiction today falls into this trans-category.
In the final analysis there is no “best” against which everything else might be judged, but S Erikson is high on my list, alongside the likes of RS Bakker, KJ Parker and GRR Martin.
Some science fiction is defined thus: take everyday life and then change just one factor, one parameter, one assumption and then extrapolate, assess the impact of making that change. We’ve all come across these – what if Hitler’s threat to invade Great Britain back in 1940 had actually succeeded? and more commonly, what if WW3 has already happened? I’ve already mentioned “On the Beach”, but what about “Wool” and “Death of Grass”? And an oldie from the 40’s, “Plan 79” by CF Maxwell – germ warfare gone wrong. I picked this up as a teenager at a summer fair along with “The Phantom Fleet” by Sea-Lion (back to stories about the sea). Interestingly enough though, within its pages the concept of “Singleness of Mind” appeared, with reference to two works by Charles Morgan – a novel, “The Voyage” and also a play, “The Flashing Stream”. I’ve long since lost “The Phantom Fleet” but Morgan’s two books are still on my bookshelf – in fact I’ve only recently re-read them both.
But I’ve jumped a bit. Among those paperbacks were also the books of John Wyndham, Orson Scott Card, Robert Heinlein, John Brunner, Poul Anderson and many more with stories such as “The Midwich Cuckoos”, “Ender’s Game” and “The Sheep Look Up”. Although not a particularly good book, I feel I have to mention the film “Silent Running” as being one of the best Sci-Fi films. Mind you not everything I’ve read has been a work of fiction. I’m not a great fan of historical novels, but am interested in naval events. And so, “Black Saturday” by A McKee caught my eye. It’s non-fiction but still speculative and paints a very different picture of the loss of “HMS Royal Oak” while anchored in Scapa Flow than that painted by the German propaganda machine. They claim the sinking as the result of an alleged attack by U-47, under the command of U-boat commander Lt Prien, whereas McKee presents a convincing case for this having been an act of sabotage. And considering other non-fiction books, I must admit that most of the ones I’ve read relate to wars – WW1, WW2 and the Hundred Years’ War.
Let me digress. With a group of like-minded friends, I found an excuse each year to visit some of the battlefields of Europe where each of us would research one aspect of our chosen visit and present it to the group in situ. Thus, I’ve been to Verdun, Waterloo, various locations in France and Flanders and also the D-Day beaches. We always had aspirations to visit more, but these never materialised. As part of this venture, I’ve accumulated books on Dunkirk and Omaha Beach and carried out hours of research on the internet in the bargain, collecting stories and voice recordings from some of the combatants, all of which I have stored on my laptop still. And therein lies perhaps my greatest disappointment: the harping and bitching that still goes on between supposed allies, pointing the finger this way and that as to who was to blame for something or other. One of those incidents that crops up with regularity is Slapton Sands – Lesley Thomas (“The Virgin Soldiers”) wrote a compelling story about this called “The Magic Army”. Another topic, this time a well-thought-of event, the Enigma machine, is mentioned in “A Man Called Intrepid”, a book about Sir William Stephenson, who was a real-life spy. The book reads like a work of fiction. I can’t recommend this read strongly enough. In the light of this, I suggest that, after reading it, you backtrack and reconsider the likes of Fleming and Le Carre.
I mentioned earlier that I am a child of the “bulge” and as such the phantom of “the war” lay behind everything that happened subsequently, like a dark, sinister cloud, throughout the period when I was growing up. (I still have my Identity Card, although I was born 18 months after the armistice was signed.) I don’t remember rationing, but do remember the day that sugar rationing ended – sweets -and you could only get second-hand, which cost more to buy than new. And it was partly this that triggered off a determination to uncover “the whole story” for myself. The only thing available in our school library was the account by Sir Winston Churchill – all six volumes! While reading it, I was only too well aware that the account was unlikely to depict its author in anything other that a favourable light, but nevertheless it helped me to understand better the attitudes of my parents’ generation – their determination to better themselves and plan for the future. In retrospect, I reckon they did a damned good job. Coming from a working class family, I consider myself to be a member of a very privileged generation – grammar school and university education, final-salary pension scheme and full employment. Since then, the pseudo intelligentsia have been systematically trying to tear it all down – their idea of equal opportunity defined by the lowest common denominator – “let’s dumb everything down”.
There used to be comprehensive schools back in the sixties but extermination of the grammar school became the fashionable crusade at that time under the banner of “equal opportunities for all”. It continued throughout the next few decades, even to the extent of trying to abolish competitive sport in schools. The teaching profession were the main instigators of this backdoor revolution – maybe the fact that grammar school teachers had to be university qualified had something to do with it. Even the word “university” had to be dumbed down to “uni” (more ‘cool’ I guess.) As part of my science degree I chose to study industrial law as my general studies subject. I submitted a dissertation on “Statute Law & Delegated Legislation with special reference to the Enfield Education Case”. All kinds of shenanigans were going on, not least a few instances of retrospective legislation. Everything changed as a result of this case. And now… we’ve turned the clock back 70 years – the best education is available only to those that can afford it or afford to live in the right catchment areas. And how do we compensate? As a consequence, everything has become dumbed down – and the only thing that meddling has achieved is that we have somehow managed to re-create the intellectual elite of the 30’s middle classes, moderated by the tool of “positive discrimination”.
Sorry; in my book, any kind of discrimination is discrimination in favour of one part of society against another part. Opportunity has never been so unequal.
And now, for very different reasons, I am in the middle of Jonathan Sumption’s “The Hundred Years’ War.” In the UK we talk about the “old enemy” and as a result of reading this there is no doubt in my mind from which part of history this originates. Certainly not Hastings or Waterloo. But don’t go away with the idea that it glorifies Crecy, Poitiers and Agincourt – far from it. As well as presenting a very detailed account of military events, it also sheds light on the very different economics operating behind the fortunes of its two main protagonists and of the many twists and turns of international politics at that time. A fascinating account.
So; what can I tell you about the material I have read? Have any had a profound impact on my life? Somehow, I doubt it; but that would be a difficult thing for me to judge. Other books that stick in my memory but which have not found their way onto the page so far could be a very long list – and no sooner had I written them down, I’d be saying, “Oh, and I mustn’t forget so and so.” I’ve had love affairs with many writers – you know how it goes: read one and then go on to consume everything that’s in print. In no particular order, these would include, JA Michener, John Grisham, John Harries, Dudley Pope, Patrick O’Brian, Robert Ludlum, Thomas Hardy, JG Ballard… oh this is impossible. Let’s just concentrate on the highlights.
Childhood books:
The House at Pooh Corner AA Milne
Ryan Britt writes, “The House at Pooh Corner Has the Best Ending of a Novel, Ever.” To me, this book was about Pooh Bear, not the privileged “posh boy” for whom it was written and who had a more comprehensive menagerie of stuffed toys than Regents Park Zoo. It ends thus:
“So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.”
And to a seven year old, it was the saddest story-ending I could ever have imagined. My hero was forced to abandon his best friend in all the world – little Piglet. Talk about abduction!
Shadow the Sheepdog Enid Blyton
A style of puppy training that would involve a visit from the RSPCA nowadays. Then again, Shadow never wet the carpet – at least not in print. What a clever, brave and adventurous dog! I would have given my best Dinky toy to have had a dog like that.
Teenage books:
Dune Frank Herbert
Together with the two follow-on books, this is classic Sci-Fi. The breadth of scope is breath-taking. An entire culture, a story that spans the galaxy, and with a plot that endures. The means to travel through space is neatly sidestepped within the concept of folding space, requiring no scientific explanation. It set the standard for me – a very high bar.
World War II Sir Winston Churchill
I’ve already covered the reason for its inclusion here. After reading this, I had a much greater understanding of the reasons why we declared war on Germany, and what was happening on the world scene before and afterwards. Decisions made by the two post-war superpowers midway during the conflict resulted in the inevitable outcome we know, but these were choices that were forced upon them by events. I have learned so much more subsequently, but I always relate back to this account to remind myself of the British perspective, going it alone: a view re-enforced by the excellent Granada TV series “All Our Yesterdays” which looked back on events 25 years ago through news headlines of the time.
Young Adult:
A Covenant with Death John Harris
A very graphic account of the Battle of the Somme, told through the eyes of one of Kitchener’s Army. As with accounts of WW2, this opened my eyes to the “War to End all Wars” and the attitude at that time to the rank and file, to the class divisions in society, profiteering and the inhuman treatment of the combatants by both sides who deployed weapons of mass destruction in what became a war of attrition; and PTSD, labelled cowardice, was rife. It was a war from which its surviving veterans locked their secrets away to the grave. This book came long before “Birdsong”, also a moving testament to the horrors of the trenches.
Foundation Isaac Asimov
This, and the trilogy it spawned, struck a chord much greater than the “I Robot” series. Always very readable, Asimov presented an idea current at the time of predicting the immediate future based on the extrapolation of recorded human behaviour within society. The second book tackled the inevitable conflict between the emergent Foundation and the Empire from which it evolved. Never thought much of “Second Foundation” and that’s about all I remember about it. “The Minority Report” was published at about the same time as “Foundation” – the modern film of the same name presents a future where crime is predictable and, therefore, preventable.
Later Adult:
The Regeneration Trilogy Pat Barker
Another WW1 theme, this time about PTSD and the treatments that were available (pre NHS of course) to “cure” its victims so that they could be sent back to the front. Woven within the books are snapshots into the lives of non-combatants such as female munitions workers. Even the attitude of eminent doctors in the emergent field of psychiatry will astound, as will the uphill battle of the more enlightened to achieve greater understanding. In a very different way, just as harrowing and thought-provoking as “A Covenant with Death”.
The Fires of Spring James A Michener
Loved “Chesapeake” and so sought out more of Michener’s books. “The Fires of Spring”, however, is the one that stands out to me, probably because it provided insight into American life (from a poor albeit white perspective). Full of warmth and pathos, it portrays the struggle of a young orphan from lowly beginnings to adulthood. His progress is marked with acute bouts of loneliness, petty crime and exploits of growing sexual awareness. A wordy writer, but very readable.
Our Winter of Discontent John Steinbeck
A great writer – this one came late for me but reminiscent of that same powerful author who penned “The Grapes of Wrath” – and presents the moral decline evident in the USA during the 50’s and 60’s: corruption and deceit. Sadly, the book had little impact on the downward course on which the USA had projected itself and which still continues at accelerated pace with every passing day. The principal character, attempting to restore the fortunes of his family within an increasingly corrupt society, abandons the high morals of his upbringing but at the price of his integrity. He is encouraged to become more ruthless and he succumbs to bribery and even considers how he might rob a bank. His own decline takes him to the brink of suicide. Fabulous plot, well told and utterly believable.
Of recent vintage:
The Crow Road Iain Banks
I like Banks’ stuff but definitely prefer his “weird” stuff over his science fiction, which is published under a slightly modified name. “The Wasp Factory” and “The Bridge” were both excellent, but “Crow Road” is more reader-friendly than most and comes across as being almost autobiographical. In the final analysis the book is about death, but not in a morbid way – far from it. Humorous throughout, it describes the goings on within a dysfunctional family and is narrated at the personal level so that the reader can empathise with the characters as dark truths emerge from the woodwork to evoke a sense of betrayal – all too easily shared by the reader. In conversation, bad English and slang prevail, a lot of it local to Scotland, and this all adds authenticity to the characters and to the storytelling.
The Hundred Years’ War Jonathan Sumption
A masterpiece! Lengthy and very detailed, no doubt the result of many years of diligent research. By today’s standards, 14th century Europe exhibited many contradictions. Edward III was on the English throne for much of the conflict, obliged to summon a parliament in order to fund his aspiration to assume the throne in France. Bishops were powerful men and thus the church was a valuable source of taxation, much to the annoyance of the Papacy. In contrast, the French Kings still ruled by Divine Right and money was raised through hearth taxes and sales taxes. The rules of chivalry applied, ransom money providing an important source of added revenue. It’s when you learn about ‘The Companies’ and ‘The Gascons’ that you begin to appreciate how much hatred became attached to the word “English” – which became the label for any marauding band of cutthroats, regardless of origin. And the Papacy, then resident in Avignon, under the guise of diplomacy, applied their political weight as they saw fit – I see parallels with the role of the European Commission within the EU. But don’t let me spoil it for you.
Something I recommend you do whenever visiting a stately home, is to enquire what, if any, family connection there might have been to this period of our history and whether this might have anything to do with the source of their fortunes – either directly, or as reward from a grateful King.
Note: I hasten to add that no such spectre should fall upon Scotney Castel, listed in Little Gems, as this was owned by the Ashburnham family and who upgraded their manorial estate into a minor fortification in response to the threat of coastal raids carried out by the French.
