July 12th

 

furnaces belching

ghost trees stand in factories

watch their bodies burn

I visited the British Library after work, conveniently it’s pretty much next door to the gothic beauty of St Pancras station, where I get my train home.

The current exhibition Writing Britain, Wastelands to Wonderlands is well worth a visit. The curators have selected some absolute treasures of the British Library collection from the genius of British and Irish writing. it celebrates the land through the beauty of the words written in honour (or more rarely, in spite) of it.

It’s inspiring and almost overwhelming, the complete list of works is available here. It’s a powerful testament to this land.

My Haiku quotes a tiny element of a longer poem I’ve written on my other blog. It humbly references one of the themes of the exhibition, the loss of green places to the spread of industrialisation.

The British library’s promotional vid/intro to exhibition

January 20th

Dragged through pain, blindness,

Hot tears falling, reminders,

Hollow thoughts of home.

 

Was getting a little bit excited, you know, in a controlled stoic, square jawed, polar exploration way about two important Captain Scott exhibitions this year, to commemorate the 100 years of him and his team reaching the South Pole, but also of his death, expiring in the icy wilderness on the long slog back. One is at the Natural History Museum and the other at a museum I was ignorant of until a couple of weeks ago, the Polar Museum at the Scott Polar Research Institute, Cambridge.

I’m looking forward to seeing Scott’s diary (on loan from the British Library) with that poignancy in his last letter to his wife and final line, his hand so shaky through weakness “For God’s sake, look after our people”. Also, the photographs of Herbert Ponting and all the artefacts and scientific specimens collected.

My Haiku however is a tribute to Irish polar explorer Tom Crean, a mainstay of Scott’s expedition as well as others for both Scott and Shackleton. He seemed to be a big gentle bloke, one of those guys you always want on your team, even tempered, reliable and utterly trustworthy. Crean was a member of the support party for the final push, so was ordered to turn back despite being so close to the pole (168 miles), so devastated, he and two others followed the trail back to base (Edward Evans, William Lashley). They got lost and needed to take a long detour, meaning their food was in short supply. The Haiku references his heroic solo walk, 35 miles in 18 hours in terrible conditions to get help for his colleagues, Lashley was weak, and Evans was sick with disabling scurvy and snow blindness. The hot tears were Crean’s, he thought Evans had died. Evans later recounted “his hot tears fell onto my face”.

The illustrated children’s book Tom Crean’s Rabbit is a wonderful true story, about him trying to find a safe warm haven for the rabbit on Scott’s ship Terra Nova as they voyaged south. Well worth buying. By Meredith Hooper and Bert Kitchen.

 

 

Tom Crean (pic from Wikipedia)

January 11th

Popped into the British Library on the way home. I feel proud that we have such an institution. With an aspiration to collect all of the books ever published, much like the great Library at Alexandria, one of the ancient wonders of the world, before it was razed.

As it’s right near St Pancras station, I sometimes dwell there while I’m waiting for my train home. Enjoy tea and cake whilst making use of the free wi-fi, catching up on work or creative writing. Mostly, I mooch around the exhibits. It’s just incredible. I’ll probably write a proper blog about it someday. At the moment, there is a an temporary exhibition on Charles Dickens. The permanent exhibition “The Treasures” is also astonishing, with the collection rotated every now and then to see more great works or hand written drafts by the authors themselves. And the books are stacked high, mighty towers of books in secure glass, shelves upon shelves, visible from pretty much every part of the central atrium.

There is a copy of the Magna Carta there too. Incredible. This is an artefact that defines our country. Where King John was forced into concessions, where the rule of one was challenged, where human rights were asserted. This clause, the most famous, is still law today (from 1215).

“No free man shall be seized or imprisoned, or stripped of his rights or possessions, or outlawed or exiled . nor will we proceed with force against him . except by the lawful judgement of his equals or by the law of the land. To no one will we sell, to no one deny or delay right or justice”

Right, the Haiku!

 

Visitations, Ghosts,

Fragile firsts, frayed, dulled, precious,

Dragon scales tower.

 

A copy of “The Cock Lane Ghost” which forms part of the Dickens Exhibition (hastily photographed as I wasn’t sure whether it was allowed or not, there’s definitely no photography in the “Treasures” area and definitely no flash photography anywhere). It refers to a widely reported ghost story in the 18th Century. Dickens was fond of “real” ghost stories (and this one in particular) but was a bit of a sceptic himself. That didn’t stop him using supernatural themes throughout his work.