Dorothy Richardson’s ‘The Tunnel’: Feminism and Flânerie in Bloomsbury

 

Dorothy Richardson

Dorothy Richardson

The idea of the flâneur was born in Paris and was first referred to by Baudelaire.  However, London writers have long used the device of the casual wanderer of the capital’s streets, the loiterer, the observer, as a means of exploring London and the inhabitants of her streets.  Dickens, Gissing, Morrison all wrote about life on London’s streets through characters who wandered them on foot.  Dorothy Miller Richardson, however, was the first writer to create a female central character, Miriam Henderson, who freely walked and explored London’s streets.  In doing so, Richardson created the first, and arguably still the best-realised, flâneuse in London literature.

Dorothy Richardson is generally not regarded as a major figure in the canon of English literature.  However, for the early part of her career she was seen as a leading female modernist and an equal of Virginia Woolf.  But, despite her early success, Richardson’s reputation has sadly not proved to be as enduring as that of Woolf.

DR 2Richardson was born in 1873 and brought up in Putney.  She enjoyed an apparently conventional middle-class upbringing until her father was declared bankrupt when she was seventeen and she had to leave home to take up work as a governess.  While Richardson was still very young her mother began to suffer with increasingly severe bouts of depression which eventually led to her death by suicide in 1895.  Richardson moved to Bloomsbury the following year and, while working in a dental surgery by day, she began to write in her spare time and soon started to have short stories, reviews and poems published in a number of periodicals.

Richardson’s major achievement is the sequence of novels known as Pilgrimage.  The series is, in every sense of the word, Dorothy Richardson’s life’s work.  Through its thirteen volumes she charts the life of a young woman called Miriam Henderson; a protagonist whose life story very much mirrors the course of Richardson’s own.  The Tunnel is one of the key works of the series and, in many ways, the most engaging and certainly the most accessible to the modern reader.

Dorothy Richardson spent most of her adult life in London and this is reflected in the setting of the majority of the volumes of Pilgrimage.  The title Pilgrimage is a metaphor for a quest and, in setting most of the series in London, Richardson presents the city as a labyrinth waiting to be wandered and explored.  Pilgrimage is Miriam’s journey; an intellectual, psychological and spiritual journey in which her outer quest is matched by an inner one.

Pilgrimage Vol 2The Tunnel is the fourth volume in the series and covers the period of Miriam’s arrival in London at the age of 21.  Reflecting Richardson’s own life, she takes a room in a house in Bloomsbury and starts work as a receptionist at a dental surgery.  In the first three volumes Miriam worked as a live-in governess, but The Tunnel marks her first step towards complete independence.  In taking a room of her own, Miriam finally confirms her break from the conformity of the life that was expected of her; that is to live in her father’s home until she married, as would be the case with her sisters.  This step out into the world marks her downward mobility from being a gentleman’s daughter to becoming a working woman.

But Miriam’s world is not limited to her room in a Bloomsbury lodging house.  She attends lectures and plays and becomes interested in literature and politics.  Throughout the course of The Tunnel Miriam reads avidly, seemingly looking behind the words of the novels she reads to find submerged meanings.  But gradually Miriam begins to focus on the words themselves, almost as if she is switching from looking at the reflection in a mirror to looking at the mirror itself and at its frame. She struggles with the canonical texts of science and literature, rejecting the standard masculine approach but finding it difficult to develop an understanding of a feminist alternative.  Pilgrimage represents Miriam’s (and by implication Dorothy Richardson’s) journey to a greater understanding of herself and of female consciousness in general.

The Tunnel opens with Miriam taking a room of her own in Bloomsbury.  The room is cramped and dreary, but to Miriam it represents the freedom she longs for:

She closed the door and stood just inside it looking at the room.  It was smaller than her memory of it.  When she had stood in the middle of the floor with Mrs Bailey, she had looked at nothing but Mrs Bailey, waiting for the moment to ask about the rent.  Coming upstairs she had felt the room was hers and barely glanced at it when Mrs Bailey opened the door.  From the moment of waiting on the stone steps outside the front door, everything had opened to the movement of her impulse.  She was surprised now at her familiarity with the details of the room . . . that idea of visiting places in dreams.  It was something more than that . . . all the real part of your life has a real dream in it; some of the real dream part of you coming true.

The focus of The Tunnel constantly moves from Miriam in her room to Miriam in the world outside.  Whilst having a room of her own to retreat to gives her the space for personal growth and spiritual reflection, the world outside, and the freedom to roam through it, gives Miriam the opportunity to develop a new social identity.  The Tunnel represents a journey for Miriam; digging down through the influences of the past to reach a different, perhaps truer, version of herself that she hopes to achieve at some point in the future.  She travels through this ‘tunnel’ with hope of there being light at the end of it; even when the light is not yet discernible.  Miriam urges herself forward with the faith of the true pilgrim and with the conviction she will emerge into a place where all is brighter and clearer.

In a key section of The Tunnel, Miriam resumes contact with her old school friend, Alma.  Through her she meets Alma’s husband, a writer known as Hypo G Wilson.  Wilson is clearly based on HG Wells, with whom, we now know, Richardson had a short-lived affair.  In fact, it is suggested that Richardson became pregnant by Wells, though she had a miscarriage before full term.

In essence, Richardson’s London represents the maternal, and The Tunnel marks the development of a feminist critique of the patriarchal world Miriam lives in.  It is her break from the lingering influence of her father.  When she is away from London she longs to return to the city’s embrace:

No one in the world would oust this mighty lover, always receiving her back without words, engulfing and laving her untouched, liberating and expanding to the whole range of her being. . . She would travel further than the longest journey, swifter than the most rapid flight, down and down into an oblivion deeper than sleep. . . tingling to the spread of London all about her, herself one with it, feeling her life flow outwards, north, south, east and west, to all its margins.

Up until this point the notion of a psychological journey, a pilgrimage, had been seen by writers in entirely male terms.  The development of psychological theories and the increased freedom for women to wander through the modern city fed into the fiction of Richardson, and indeed that of Virginia Woolf.

Miriam’s new work is hard, the hours long and the pay is just a pound a week but, again, it represents freedom for her, and the chance to establish an independent life free of the influences of her background.  The journeys to and from work, sometimes by omnibus and at other times on foot, quickly become the highlight of Miriam’s day.  She drinks in the ever-changing sights and sounds of the city and absorbs them into her being:

Strolling home towards midnight along the narrow pavement of Endsleigh Gardens, Miriam felt as fresh and untroubled as if it were early morning.  When she got out of her Hammersmith omnibus into the Tottenham Court Road, she had found that the street had lost its first terrifying impression and had become part of her home.

Piccadilly Circus, c1900

Piccadilly Circus, c1900

On one of  Miriam’s many walks through the West End she encounters several old men wandering about, slowly and alone, like superannuated flâneurs, ‘still circulating, like the well preserved coins of a past reign.’  She reaches Piccadilly Circus and stops to enjoy its ‘central freedom’, but moves on when she spots Tommy Babington, a former acquaintance.  Babington is strolling along with an expressionless face and the dandified clothes of a flâneur.  They exchange a momentary glance of recognition:

She rushed on, passing him with a swift salute, saw him raise his hat with mechanical promptitude as she stepped from the kerb and forward, pausing an instant for a passing hansom.

Miriam does not wish to engage with Tommy.  She does not want his attention, or his protection; she wishes to enjoy walking alone on the same terms as him, or any other male flâneur.  And perhaps it is not coincidental that Richardson has them meet at Piccadilly Circus.  Piccadilly is not a crossroads but a roundabout, a place where one encounters and re-encounters other people, as well as aspects of one’s own self; and at the very centre of this place is Eros.  Miriam continues her walk; expressing a preference to walk the ‘winding lane’ of Bond Street rather than endure the ‘two monstrous streams’ of traffic on Oxford Street, the former perhaps being more conducive to quiet reflection.

Later that same evening, Miriam encounters a grotesque and dishevelled old woman shambling along in the gutter in Cambridge Square.  They steal a glance at each other and Miriam experiences an odd, chilling moment of recognition ‘it was herself, set in her path and waiting through all the years.’  This is one of several instances where Miriam stares into a face she seems to recognise and which suggests an inner searching for alternative possibilities on her journey of self-discovery; a glimpse of the self she was, the one she will become, and the other possibilities that may never come about.

Dorothy Richardson with Alan Odle

Dorothy Richardson with Alan Odle

Miriam’s struggle to establish an independent life for herself frequently requires her to cross boundaries of gender and class.  Richardson’s descriptions of Miriam’s walks through London in The Tunnel constantly involve her in crossing roads, bridges and railway lines, as if to mirror her crossing of boundaries in her inner pilgrimage.  Yet she finds the solitude of the street strangely soothing and less challenging than the other encounters in her life: ‘She went out into its shelter’.

Richardson’s Miriam Henderson wanders through London’s streets both physically and imaginatively.  Her propensity to walk the streets alone marks her out as an outsider.  She finds herself attracted to the company of other outsider characters.  Two Russian Jews whom she meets in Bloomsbury, Mr Mendizabel and Michael Shatov, play an important part in her development.  She finds herself attracted to their otherness and finds she shares with them an enjoyment of wandering the city’s streets, particularly at night.

But not all parts of fin de siècle London are places women could safely or comfortably visit.  For women such as Miriam, greater freedom in some ways brought with it greater isolation as she found the spaces of the city open to her to be selective, limited, and fragmented from one another.  Female earnings were still very low and working women not supported by their family, even educated ones, could only afford the most basic of accommodation.  Both the street and her own room were important to the female writer in early twentieth-century London; the one for exploration and the other for reflection.  Miriam found both of these in Bloomsbury with its myriad rooms to let and boarding houses.

As if to reflect the ever-changing nature of the modern city, The Tunnel is written in a style that is very different from anything written before.  Richardson’s contemporary, May Sinclair, described it as a ‘stream of consciousness’ novel, a term which Richardson never fully accepted.  She was dissatisfied with the form of both the romantic and the realist novel.  She wanted to write a novel based on her own life experiences, but to transmute it into something different by seeing it through the eyes of her protagonist, Miriam.

Miriam’s voice was to replace Richardson’s.  But clearly, there was still a narrator behind that voice.  Richardson’s great achievement was to develop a new way of expressing her responses to the world that she saw about her.  She was a modernist and a feminist.  The Pilgrimage series has been described as the first full-scale impressionist work.

By the time The Tunnel was published in 1919, the early interest in Richardson’s writing had begun to wane.  Though she ploughed on with nine further volumes of Pilgrimage, these sold few copies and she had to earn her living as a writer through journalism and reviews.  Indeed, Richardson enjoyed a moderately successful second career as a film reviewer.  She married the artist, Alan Odle, in 1917 and continued to write up until her death in 1957.

Female modernist writers like Dorothy Richardson, were until recently, largely ignored by the predominantly male establishment of literary criticism.  It was not until the 1970s, and the growth of feminist criticism, that writers such as Richardson were given their due credit.

Pilgrimage as a whole is the story of Miriam Henderson’s inner journey, her psychological, political and spiritual development.  The Tunnel is a key work in this series in that it charts Miriam’s new, independent life in London.  And it is London that is at the core of Richardson’s work.

 

Dorothy Richardson’s Bloomsbury

7 Endsleigh Street

7 Endsleigh Street

Dorothy Richardson lived for several years in a small attic flat at the top of 7 Endsleigh Street.  At this time many of the large Georgian houses in Bloomsbury were divided up for multiple occupation and provided cheap rented rooms for ‘respectable’ working men and women.

 

Nowadays the whole block, as with many others in the vicinity, belongs to the London School of Economics and is used for student accommodation.  As is evident from the picture, the stuccoed ground floor has been restored so that it is no longer the crumbling façade we read of in The Tunnel.

University College, London

University College, London

It is difficult to define the exact boundaries of Bloomsbury, but is generally regarded as the area between Euston and Holborn.  It is a neighbourhood of large Georgian houses and a number of elegant squares.  Many of the larger houses are now used by the University of London and its offshoots and by several medical associations.

 

 

 

Bloomsbury, for much of the twentieth century, was an area favoured by writers and artists.  Richardson frequently attended literary soirées at the home of Virginia Woolf in nearby Gordon Square and later, together with other members of the Bloomsbury Group, at other Woolf homes in Fitzroy Square and Brunswick Square.  Most of the buildings in Gordon Square now belong to the University of London and the university are currently planning to refurbish the central gardens of the square.

1 Wimpole Street

1 Wimpole Street

Within walking distance of Bloomsbury, at least for a struggling writer with no money to spend on public transport, was Wimpole Street where Richardson worked as a dental receptionist for many years.  The dental practice no longer exists, but the street still has associations with medicine and the British Dental Association is housed at number sixty four.  The Royal Society of Medicine, an educational charity, is located at number one.

In one of the key scenes of The Tunnel, lasting some fifty pages, Richardson’s protagonist, Miriam, takes an evening walk from Wimpole Street to Bond Street, across Piccadilly Circus, up Shaftesbury Avenue and on to her home in Bloomsbury.  Although much has changed in the last hundred years, the modern reader can still sense some of the atmosphere of Miriam’s journey by retracing her walk after dark.

This piece, by Bobby Seal, was first published on Andrew Whitehead’s excellent London Fictions website in June 2012:  www.londonfictions.com

 

References and Further Reading

Dorothy Richardson, Pilgrimage:

Pointed Roofs, 1915
Backwater, 1916
Honeycomb, 1917
The Tunnel, 1919
Interim, 1920
Deadlock, 1921
Revolving Lights, 1923
The Trap, 1925
Oberland, 1927
Dawn’s Left Hand, 1931
Clear Horizon, 1935
Dimple Hill, 1938
March Moonlight, 1967

Horace Gregory, Dorothy Richardson: An Adventure in Self-Discovery (New York, Chicago and San Francisco, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967)

Gillian E Hanscombe, The Art of Life: Dorothy Richardson and the Development of Feminist Consciousness (London and Boston, Peter Owen, 1982)

Deborah Parsons, Streetwalking the Metropolis: Women, the City and Modernity (Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press, 2000)

Jean Radford (Key Women Writers Series), Dorothy Richardson (Hemel Hempstead, Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1991)

John Rosenberg, Dorothy Richardson: The Genius They Forgot (London, Duckworth, 1973)

Websites
Professor Scott McCracken of Keele University curates a Dorothy Richardson website which is highly recommended: http://www.dorothyrichardson.org/

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On Becoming a Fish

 

“Change,” he always said, “happens at the edge,

the frontline, tideline, the thick line

that sparks a fight and then, perhaps,

a kiss. This is where we know who we are”

he said, “by seeing who we are not”.

(Edge)

This is an edgy body of work; the idea of edges crops up again and again. Emily Hinshelwood’s second collection of poems was written around a series of walks she took on the 186-mile Pembrokeshire coastal path: a path which follows a line along the edge between sea and land. A coastal path in a county on the westernmost edge of Wales, itself a nation on the south-western edge of the British mainland; the continental edge, the end of the line, an edge facing out onto over 3,000 miles of ocean.

Book cover

Emily Hinshelwood

 

 

 

 

 

 

The edge theme continues as we read on: the edge of a culture, the edge of irreversible environmental change, between fact and fiction, him and her, the edge of time and the edgelands of memory:

And in a box, the stuff of reality –

the patchwork of history

sewn into a picnic

of well-worn stories

all those myths we keep moving

hand to hand,

thought to thought

before the spell breaks.

(Final walk)

Coast

Hinshelwood’s poems follow the course of the coastal path. We meet snakes and sea-birds, caves and graves and encounter a ‘pinky-naked’ skinny dipper. She muses on ship wrecks and wind farms and tells us about the last invasion of the British mainland, seen off by 400 local women in ‘stove-pipe hats and scarlet cloaks’.

This collection of poems, despite its frequent references to wildlife and the ever-present landscape, is neither a work of natural history nor a walking guide. Above all else it is a portrait of a land and the impact human beings have made upon it over many centuries. And Hinshelwood’s fears for the future of this land and the sea which surrounds it, again at the hands of people, are all-pervading in this work.

Coast 3But be warned, read this collection and you will experience an irresistible urge to walk the Pembrokeshire coastal path. If you do, buy a map before you set out, because, seemingly it is impossible to do so in Pembrokeshire:

What d’you say? … map of Pembrokeshire?

not a lot of call for that around here

not in Pembrokeshire

most people know where to go …

(Searching for a map of Pembrokeshire in Pembrokeshire)

Coast 4Coast 2

 

 

 

 

But in the end it is the sea. The sea defines Pembrokeshire, and it is from the sea that we all came and it is to the sea we will one day return. The sea, dark and brooding, lies beneath every line in this collection:

When you stop coming up for air,

When your lungs implode to a stillness

all that talking ceases

(On Becoming a Fish)

 

 

Emily Hinshelwood, On Becoming a Fish (Bridgend, Seren Books, 2012)

Quotes from Emily Hinshelwood’s poems, images of book cover and poet – Seren Books

All other words and images – Bobby Seal

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One Year – Week 20

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

31 January 2014January 31st 2014

Thick cloud

Knox ‘frightened’ by murder ruling

Who will light a fire and say the kaddish for them?  Who will say it for us?

 

1 February 2014February 1st 2014

Sunny intervals

Labour plans to cut unions’ power

… a murmur of voices and echoing footsteps from the corridor outside

 

2 February 2014February 2nd 2014

Sunny

Ofsted row deepens as Laws ‘furious’

And when I dream, I dream I can fly

 

 

3 February 2014February 3rd 2014

Light cloud

Gove warned not to rely on ‘yes men’

I beat my wings upon the unyielding glass

 

 

4 February 2014February 4th 2014

Sunny intervals

World facing cancer ‘tidal wave’

The smell of incense and candles; burning books and rotting flesh

 

5 February 2014February 5th 2014

Thick cloud

Storms leave thousands without power

An arrow, a pointer, a finger post showing the way

 

6 February 2014February 6th 2014

Sunny intervals

US warns of Sochi ‘toothpaste’ bomb

We live on in the memory for a time but, then, even the memory dies

 

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

 

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Psychogeographic Review’s Recommendations – February 2014

 

This past month Psychogeographic Review has been reading:

Ian Nairn‘Ian Nairn: Words in Place’ – Gillian Darley and David McKie (2013)

Through his column in Architectural Review, several ground-breaking books and a number of BBC documentaries, Ian Nairn taught a generation how to look at the built environment.  Always a controversial figure, Nairn’s views are perhaps just as relevant now as they were in the 1950s and 1960s.   Compiled by Gillian Darley and David McKie , this collection is a good introduction to Nairn’s work

 

View From the Train

‘The View From the Train: Cities & Other Landscapes’ – Patrick Keiller (2013)

Patrick Keiller’s latest book brings together a number of off-cuts and oddities from his admirable  body of work and can be read as a companion piece to his series of Robinson films.  In some ways his explorations of and musings on the built landscape can be compared with those of Nairn.  But while Keiller may lack the sense of urgency and anger that drove Nairn, he more than makes up for that with his wit, lyricism and political astuteness.

Public Figures‘Public Figures’ – Jena Osman (2012)

Jena Osman is one of the US’s finest contemporary poets and reviewers.  This recent essay-poem with photographs takes as its starting point a number of public statues in Philadelphia.  She tracks the gaze of each statue and, forensically, creates a searing indictment of the misuse of military and civil power.

 

 

Meanwhile, we were listening to:

Grouper‘The Man Who Died in His Boat’ – Grouper (2013)

Grouper is the name used by American musician and artist, Liz Harris, for her solo projects.  This, her eighth album, was in fact recorded at the same time as 2008’s Dragging a Dead Deer up a Hill and bears much of the same hallmark sound: ethereal voices drifting in and out of acoustic phrases and analogue drones.  The result is dreamlike, intoxicating and strangely claustrophobic.

Burial‘Rival Dealer’ – Burial (2013)

A new EP from British electronica artist, Burial.  Unlike his previous releases, the three tracks of this one are thematically linked by a single concept, that of bullying.

 

 

 

 

Television‘Marquee Moon’ – Television (1977)

One of the key albums of 1977.  Whilst often labelled as the American East Coast scene’s response to the UK punk explosion, Tom Verlaine’s masterwork is in fact a potent reminder of the ‘new’ genre’s New York heritage.

 

 

 

And watching:

Inside Llewyn Davis‘Inside Llewyn Davis’ – Joel & Ethan Coen (2013)

The Coen brothers manage to create a totally believable early 1960s Greenwich Village for this, their latest comic-drama release.  The story centres on one week in the life of Llewyn Davis, an emerging talent on the vibrant folk music scene.  This fictional character is partly based on the story of a real singer-songwriter, Dave Van Ronk.  In passing, we also become aware of another artist ploughing the same furrow.  He calls himself Bob Dylan, but we don’t learn too much about what happens to him.

 

Gloria‘Gloria’ – Sebastián Lelio (2012)

Subtle and beautifully written, Sebastián Lelio’s film is set in present-day Chile and stars Paulina García as a middle-aged woman finding her feet and moving on after divorce.

 

 

 

 

Carnival of Souls‘Carnival of Souls’ – Herk Harvey (1962)

I owe a debt to Alex Cox and his magnificent Moviedrome series from the 1980s for introducing me to this 1960s cult classic.  Produced on a shoestring budget, this genuinely scary film stars Candace Hilligoss as a bewildered and painfully vulnerable woman who seems to survive a car crash, but then finds herself in a nightmarish zone between one world and the next.

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One Year – Week 19

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

24 January 2014January 24th 2014

Heavy rain

Pay rising in real terms – coalition

River water the colour of Brown Windsor soup

 

25 January 2014January 25th 2014

Light cloud

Syria foes meeting face to face

So how come Rabbie Burns never wrote a poem about neeps?

 

26 January 2014January 26th 2014

Heavy rain

Ukraine opposition rejects offers

He turned his head to face the window, and remembered…

 

27 January 2014January 27th 2014

Light rain shower

Ukraine state of emergency warning

A suggestion of the character’s inner life expressed by silence and punctuated by subtle facial expression

 

28 January 2014January 28th 2014

Heavy rain

Ukraine MPs vote on protest laws

Shortly before he passed away, his father told him for the first time about the older sister who had died when he was just an infant

 

29 January 2014January 29th 2014

Light rain

Clegg: UK to resettle Syria refugees

I need a map.  Don’t worry if it’s not the right one, I’ll adjust it until it fits

 

30 January 2014January 30th 2014

Thick cloud

Terror suspects may lose citizenship

She sees the rocks, their surface an embroidery of erosion

 

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

 

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One Year – Week 18

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

17 January 2014January 17th 2014

Light rain shower

Miliband urges bank branch sell-off

He opened his eyes to see the dome of stars above him, each one large and clear, a night sky of terrible beauty

 

18 January 2014January 18th 2014

Light rain

Mikaeel mother held as body found

She flows slowly, with swollen power

 

 

19 January 2014January 19th 2014

Sunny intervals

Mikaeel mother charged over death

…sweeping up branches and animal carcasses as she goes

 

20 January 2014January 20th 2014

Sunny

Lord Rennard set for return amid row

Inexorable momentum

 

 

21 January 2014January 21st 2014

Mist

Syria accused of systematic torture

Sometimes, there are no words…

 

 

22 January 2014January 22nd 2014

Fog

Syria peace conference set to begin

She is an army on the march, gathering numbers to her host

 

23 January 2014January 23rd 2014

Heavy rain shower

NHS waiting time data ‘unreliable’

For months he had been living in this way; endless circling, perpetual beginning, followed by frustration

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

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George Gissing: ‘New Grub Street’

George Gissing

George Gissing

George Gissing is, in some ways, a forgotten author.  His subject matter was unrelentingly grim, his world view invariably pessimistic and his work lacked any hint of literary experimentation.  Perhaps, then, one might say he deserves to be forgotten.  But that would be to overlook his unique achievement as one of the most resonant voices of the neglected margins of late Victorian society and, above all, as one of the first great London writers.

Gissing was born in Wakefield in 1857 to middle-class parents.  A brilliant scholar, he attended university but was sent down after stealing from fellow students to fund his affair with a prostitute with whom he had fallen in love.  Gissing spent much of his working life in penury in the Clerkenwell and Islington areas of London. But a late blossoming of his career brought him literary acceptance and some degree of financial security in his final years.  George Gissing died in France at the age of forty-six.

New Grub StreetGissing’s career coincided with the decline of the circulating libraries and their grip on British literary life.  For almost two generations these libraries, most notably Mudie’s, had dominated the market for fiction; they made the weighty three-volume novel the norm and held down the earnings of writers.  By the 1880s, however, their dominance began to decline with new publishers beginning to produce cheaper, slimmer volumes and a blossoming of new magazines aimed at the mass-market.

In New Grub Street Gissing highlights the threats and opportunities this new mass culture offers.  Edwin Reardon, a gifted scholar, finds some initial success in writing fiction.  He gives up his job as a clerk and spends most of his earnings from writing on a European trip.  He then marries the socially ambitious Amy Yule, who is dazzled by his apparent literary talent.  Under pressure to produce, and unwilling to compromise his artistic ideals to meet the demands of the market, he struggles: 

For months he had been living in this way; endless circling, perpetual beginning, followed by frustration.  A sign of exhaustion, it of course made exhaustion more complete. At times he was on the border-land of imbecility; his mind looked into a cloudy chaos, a shapeless whirl of nothings.

Eventually, both Reardon’s health and his marriage collapse.  Like many of Gissing’s male characters, his depiction of Reardon betrays a degree of self-portraiture.  Indeed, Gissing turned out New Grub Street in just two months, a rate of 4,000 words a day; much the same as that demanded of Edwin Reardon in Gissing’s book.

The title of the novel refers back to ‘Grub Street’, an area once located off Moorfields which became synonymous in eighteenth-century London with hack-writers and a commodified publishing industry.  In New Grub Street, Gissing represents a literary world that is blighted by overbearing commerce, greed and exploitation.  But not all his characters suffer at the hands of these forces.  Whilst Reardon and his friend Biffen represent the past, Reardon’s acquaintance and fellow writer, Jasper Milvain, is portrayed as a man of his times.  He grasps every commercial opportunity and makes the most of his limited talents:

Literature nowadays is a trade.  Putting aside men of genius, who may succeed by mere cosmic force, your successful man of letters is your skilful tradesman.  He thinks first and foremost of the markets. 

This is a literary world centred on London.  Reardon tries to argue that this should not be so in an impassioned conversation with Biffen:

It’s a huge misfortune, this will-o’-the-wisp attraction exercised by London on young men of brains. They come here to be degraded, or to perish, when their true sphere is a life of peaceful remoteness. The type of man capable of success in London is more or less callous and cynical. If I had the training of boys, I would teach them to think of London as the last place where life can be lived worthily.

But Jasper Milvain’s success suggests otherwise.  He is able to exploit the opportunities the London literary market presents; a market driven by reviews, publicity and alliances.  

Grub Street - renamed Milton Street in 1830

Grub Street – renamed Milton Street in 1830

A mood of pessimism hangs over the London of New Grub Street and Gissing despairs of the fate of the creative individual when faced with the increasingly commercial world of publishing.  For Gissing, who learned about hardship at first hand and experienced artistic disappointment during his time in London, the city represents nothing but ugliness and despair.  He writes of a despair so profound that it leads to Biffen’s decision to attempt to take his own life:

One must go far in suffering before the innate will-to-live is thus truly  overcome; weariness of bodily anguish may induce this perversion of the instincts; less often, that despair of suppressed emotion which had fallen upon Harold. Through the night he kept his thoughts fixed on death in its aspect of repose, of eternal oblivion. And herein he had found solace.

Yet Gissing evokes a more traditional image of London when he describes the view from Reardon’s bachelor flat early on in New Grub Street:

The green ridge from Hampstead to Highgate, with Primrose Hill and the foliage of Regent’s Park in the foreground; the suburban spaces of St John’s Wood, Maida Vale, Kilburn; Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament, lying low by the side of the hidden river, and a glassy gleam on far-off hills which meant the Crystal Palace; then the clouded majesty of eastern London, crowned by St Paul’s dome.  These things one’s friends were expected to admire.

But this is not Gissing’s London.  New Grub Street concerns itself no further with the kind of aesthetic evocation of a panoramic landscape of the city that this passage suggests.  Instead, the book presents us with, in John Goode’s words, a London of struggling writers ‘living in a middle-class style on a working-class income’.

There is a consistent image in Gissing’s books that echoes the works of certain earlier writers, most notably Blake.  This is the image of the man walking through the city.  New Grub Street offers numerous examples of the plot being moved forward by a character walking the city streets.  Reardon frequently walks by Amy’s mother’s house in the hope of seeing his estranged wife and Biffen walks to Putney Hill to end his life.   Public transport is only used on special occasions.  In one notable episode Reardon and Biffen travel by cab to London Bridge Station when Reardon is summoned to Brighton because of his son’s illness.  

The British Museum Reading Room

The British Museum Reading Room

All attempts to escape the oppressive treadmill of life as a struggling writer in London seem doomed to failure.  Biffen’s masterwork is published, but fails to satisfy the tastes of the mass market.  The city, however, empowers some: Jasper Milvain embraces the commercial opportunities offered by literary London and grows in wealth and influence.

But Gissing is less concerned with the causes of poverty than with the human facts.  New Grub Street drives home the every day indignities resulting from poverty.  We learn, from our first encounter with the impoverished writer, Harold Biffen, that:

His excessive meagreness would all but have qualified him to enter an exhibition in the capacity of living skeleton, and the garments which hung upon this framework would perhaps have sold for three-and-sixpence at an old-clothes dealer’s.

With the growth of the city came a commoditising of literature, with changes to technology and a growth in literacy creating the beginnings of a mass culture centred on London.  There was also a growth in the power of the London-based reviewer and an expansion in the influence of advertising.  Through Milvain’s rise and Reardon’s decline, this process is acted out in the pages of New Grub Street.  Gissing suggests an industrialisation of writing and a pandering to the limited expectations and tastes of the masses.  Through Marian Yule he takes this notion further and imagines a writing machine:

But surely before long some Edison would make the true automaton; the problem must be comparatively such a simple one.  Only to throw in a given number of old books, and have them reduced, blended, modernised into a single one for today’s consumption. 

The burgeoning mass culture of the late-Victorian era grew as a result of increased literacy rates following the Education Act of 1870 and changes to the technologies of printing and distribution; there was an increase in the spread of mass-circulation periodicals such as Tit Bits.  Talking about his proposed new periodical, Chit-Chat, in New Grub Street, Reardon’s other friend, Whelpdale, suggests that ‘everything must be very short, two inches at the utmost; their attention can’t sustain itself beyond two inches’. He goes on to explain his thinking:

Let me explain my principle. I would have the paper address itself to the quarter-educated; that is to say, the great new generation that is being turned out by the Board schools, the young men and women who can just read, but are incapable of sustained attention.

Given Gissing’s pessimistic views on the development of the publishing industry in London, it is perhaps inevitable that New Grub Street should end in tragedy for the idealistic and good fortune for the unscrupulous.  By the concluding chapters Edwin Reardon and his wife Amy are reconciled as a result of the tragic death of their son.  But Reardon’s health, after long years of poverty, finally gives way and he dies soon after.  Penniless and now friendless Biffen embraces suicide once more, and this time he succeeds.  Jasper Milvain, on the other hand, prospers.  He marries into money and secures an influential editorship.

Blue plaque at Phene Street, Chelsea, where Gissing lived 1882-4
Blue plaque at Phene Street, Chelsea, where Gissing lived 1882-4

Gissing’s great achievement in New Grub Street is to capture a moment in British social history.  He gives the reader a unique insight into the world of the Victorian hack-writer and creates a protagonist who tries to hold to his ideals while balanced on the cusp of a massive upheaval in the publishing industry.  This was a world of which Gissing had ample first-hand experience.  He suggests that only the exceptional individual can break free.    More often than not he or she will go under, as does Edwin Reardon, or prosper but deteriorate morally, like Jasper Milvain.

The literary world evoked in New Grub Street has gone.  However, the same forces that Gissing describes in this book are at work in the publishing industry of today: an industry driven by technological change and too often motivated by status, greed and power.

 

New Grub Street Today

Grub Street is used today as a pejorative term.  It represents an attitude, an approach to writing that results in something both cheap and disposable.  But it was once a physical location too, situated in the Moorfields area of the City of London.  The home of minor publishers and hack-writers, Grub Street was named after the refuse ditch or ‘grub’ that originally ran along its length.

Grub Street
Grub Street

Perhaps to allay its growing notoriety, the street was renamed Milton Street in 1830.  Much of the old Milton Street was destroyed by the Luftwaffe in World War Two and has since been subsumed into the Barbican development.  If there is a ‘New’ Grub Street of today, perhaps it exists not so much in the world of print, but within the internet and satellite broadcasting.

One location portrayed at length in New Grub Street is the magnificent British Museum Reading Room.  It is here that Reardon and Biffen do much of their research and where Reardon meets Amy’s cousin, Marian Yule.  The Reading Room remains in its original form but many of its key research functions have now moved to the British Library on Euston Road.

Milton Street - Basher Eyre, Creative Commons

Milton Street – Basher Eyre, Creative Commons

Of course the names of New Grub Street’s chief protagonists, Edwin Reardon and Jasper Milvain may seem familiar to regular listeners of BBC Radio 4.  The comedy show Ed Reardon’s Week features an acerbic struggling writer called Ed Reardon and his wealthier and more successful friend, Jaz Milvane.

 

 

This piece, by Bobby Seal, was first published on Andrew Whitehead’s excellent London Fictions website in June 2013:  www.londonfictions.com

 

Further Reading

Paul Delany, George Gissing: A Life (London, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2008)

John Goode, George Gissing: Ideology and Fiction (London, Vision Press, 1978)

Peter Keating, The Haunted Study (London, Faber & Faber, 1989)

Jacob Korg, George Gissing: A Critical Biography (Brighton, Harvester Press, 1980)

Sally Ledger and Roger Luckhurst (Eds), The Fin de Siecle: A Reader in Cultural History c.1880 – 1920 (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2000)

Adrian Poole, Gissing in Context (London, Macmillan, 1975)

John Spiers (Ed), Gissing and the City (London, Palgrave Macmillan, 2005)

Raymond Williams, The Country and the City (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1973)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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One Year – Week 17

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

 

10 January 2014January 10th 2014

Sunny intervals

Moves to end flood precautions delay

He found it useful to feign deafness

 

 

11 January 2014January 11th 2014

Sunny

Labour plan for ‘teacher licences’

He added her name to his list of people to whom he should apologise, knowing none of those apologies would ever be voiced

 

12 January 2014January 12th 2014

Light cloud

UK ‘working on benefit restrictions’

Each new day pregnant with possibility, yet every one ending in disappointment

 

13 January 2014January 13th 2014

Sunny intervals

PM promises council ‘fracking’ boost

A glow of light at the eastern horizon; dawn crawls up the ladder of sky, a rosy-pink new-born

 

14 January 2014January 14th 2014

Clear sky

Egypt holds vote on new constitution

Thoughts of Spring, and yet a fear that Winter’s worst is still  to come

 

15 January 2014January 15th 2014

Light cloud

Osborne in ‘decline’ warning to EU

Watching his thoughts, watching his anxieties, but declining to own them

 

16 January 2014January 16th 2014

Sunny intervals

Military cuts ‘limit UK world role’

He turned his thoughts to conspiracy theories, surely he could come up with one of his own?

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

 

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One Year – Week 16

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

3 January 2014January 3rd 2014

Heavy rain shower

UK faces flooding as tides peak

I saw the New Year in on a shed roof.  I think it was my shed

 

4 January 2014January 4th 2014

Light rain

UK braced for more stormy weather

… and the postman tried to attack me with his handheld delivery device

 

5 January 2014January 5th 2014

Sunny intervals

PM pledges to ‘protect’ state pension

Swimming with the stream rather than against it; what a novel idea

 

6 January 2014January 6th 2014

Clear sky

‘Year of hard truths’, Osborne warns

He took all the clouds from the sky and laid them out flat on a very large canvas

 

7 January 2014January 7th 2014

Light rain shower

MPs’ fears over Defra budget cuts

The truth is, I miss Copenhagen

 

 

8 January 2014January 8th 2014

Partly cloudy

Four killed in helicopter crash

I have no idea what the retirement age is for bank robbers

 

9 January 2014January 9th 2014

Sunny intervals

Duggan shooting prompts camera move

The escalator of generational change; far superior to that game-show conveyor belt

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

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One Year – Week 15

Project Description

One Year is a project through which I intend to construct a daily photographic record of a single view: the view from my study window at around 8.00a.m. each day when I sit down to work.  One Year will annotate each picture with a note of the weather for that morning and the morning’s main news headline from the BBC News site.  In addition, there will be a note taking a key sentence or two from my daily journal.

27 December 2013December 27th 2013

Heavy rain

Storms return to batter UK

‘the first flakes of snow on my tongue’

 

 

28 December 2013December 28th 2013

Sunny

Power company to boost storm payouts

Her new poem, a precious winter gift

 

 

29 December 2013December 29th 2013

Sunny

North Sea rescue after fire on ferry

A tree trunk floats by on the swollen waters of the Dee.  A sleek U-boat heading for Chester weir

 

30 December 2013December 30th 2013

Heavy rain

New deadly bomb strikes Russian city

Fingers long, wrinkled red, salt water raw

 

 

31 December 2013December 31st 2013

Heavy rain

NI Haass talks end without agreement

Beach treasure trove: coloured glass worn smooth

 

1 January 2014January 1st 2014

Light rain shower

UK work controls on migrants to end

Rousing, as if from sleep, he realised there was a room in his house he had never entered

 

2 January 2014January 2nd 2014

Sunny

Rail fare rise comes into effect

From downstairs, the sound of a piano

 

 

Artist Statement

… “natural history” has no actual existence other than through the process of human history, the only part which recaptures this historical totality, like the modern telescope whose sight captures, in time, the retreat of nebulae at the periphery of the universe.

Guy Debord – Society of the Spectacle

The purpose of this project is to explore continuity and change.  Over the course of a year, I will build up a daily visual record of the same view.  Despite my best efforts, though, I will not be able to replicate the ‘same’ view each day: it is subject to changes in the environment, such as the weather or the time the sun rises.  But it is also affected by changes caused by me, the observer.  For instance, my feelings that morning may change the way I hold the camera or, inadvertently, the image may show my breath on the glass from getting too close to the window.

Looking out at the view on this, the first morning of One Year, I see a scene comprising sky, trees and rooftops.  I don’t see much evidence of human activity just yet, but that may come later in the year when the leaf cover begins to thin out.  Being on a flight path, we also see the odd vapour trail or aeroplane light in the sky too.

Some of the changes that will become evident will be pretty obvious, such as the seasons.  Other changes will be more subtle.  My daily notes will give some insight into what is going on inside my head that morning, from my journal entry, and there will also be a record of what is happening in the world in general, from the news headline.

But the ‘view’ I am recording in One Year is not neutral, it is selected and framed by me.  Similarly, my journal extracts are selected from a much larger body of work; it is the ‘insight’ into my thinking that I choose to present.  Even the ‘news headline’ cannot be regarded as neutral, for it is subject to BBC editorial bias.

But there is a third party in the One Year process, one that is outside of my control. That person is you, the reader of this blog, the interested observer of the project.  I want people to bring their own interpretations, views and insights to this project.  All comments received will be reproduced in my weekly project reports.

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