Mythago Wood

I've just finished reading Robert Holdstocks' Mythago Wood for the umpteenth time, and it's star remains undimmed. Man, I love this book. I can't recommend it highly enough. Holdstock deftly weaves threads of reality and fantasy, between threads of archaeology, history, and folklore into a compelling tale, brooding and atmospheric. With characters that are believable, well developed, with dimension and depth, complicated; and a world that is at once wholly recognisable and fantastical. Beautifully written he masterfully evokes the atmosphere of the wild wood, and the magic of a landscaped soaked in history, monument, and lore. Ryhope Wood is a timeless English wood, a remnant of the original wild wood that once covered this post glacial isle, it ignores all natural laws and defies reality. A landscape where the genesis of myths are formed, become flesh, live out their stories and regenerate for changing times; Mythagos, variants of timeless archetypes roam the woods. The Huxleys' home sits within the influence of this mysterious wood, a family beguiled by a wild beauty and the magic of Ryhope Wood, who end up consumed by both in a pursuit back through time, ancient stands and stories. The potency and purpose of myth and story, their cultural importance, are explored; how stories shape our lives and our experience of the world.  Our ancestors lived in a world of magical phenomena and mythical characters, an oral world, a world shaped by stories. Through the magic of Ryhope Wood I feel Holdstock encourages the reader to experience woods differently, through an awareness of the magic that surrounds us, and to be open to it. Mythago Wood is an enthralling read. If you love the natural world, if you find wonder amongst the stands, and if you're open to letting your imagination run. Then this is a book for you.

Just a peek

I've mentioned Mythago Wood on several occasions as a book which has had, and continues to have, a huge influence on my interpretation and interactions with woodland. Mythago Wood is the first book in the Mythago Cycle of novels, followed by Lavondyss. In Lavondyss the main protagonist Tallis is the younger sister of a character from Mythago Wood, who at the end of the book was lost in the Wood. In short, Tallis carves a series of wooden masks through which she can see the wood through time and space and with them travel to those different places and times. For some reason gateways have always held a strange significance for me, and although I understand the books are fiction, I also understand truths can be found in surprising places, as I've frequently found. I've always enjoyed walking between paired trees, I still do, wondering, possibly hoping (I say 'possibly hoping', I definitely *am* hoping) that I'll find myself in another manifestation of the world, a changed world. I know, I'm a total fantasist, what the hey. At the bottom of Glastonbury Tor there used to be a cleaved tree with a path through it, I would always approach the Tor through it, it took on a ceremonial meaning for me, a transition into the sacred. I was saddened when over time one side inevitably succumbed to the time and the elements and fell. Anyway, I digress. Since reading Lavondyss I can't pass a tree with a hole through it without peering through in the hope of seeing that changed alternative reality. And, although I haven't seen it yet, it doesn't mean that I wont. I want to believe.

Epiphanies

I've been grateful for any moments of epiphany I've had, we all need them, things that have offered clarity, a change of perception or a key that's opened another door. They come in many forms and from diffuse sources. One that often comes to mind when I'm in the woods, predictably maybe, is reading Robert Holdstock's Mythago Wood. I was thinking whilst amongst the crowded stands of shadowy conifers, with their pockets of veteran deciduous trees appearing like magical groves, how profoundly Mythago Wood altered the way I perceived, received and related to landscape. I know it's fiction, don't underestimate the magic in the arts though. I've found there's often elements of genuine truth to be found in stories and lyrics, truths are just truths. Musing I wondered how best describe the gift the book had given me, and concluded that I couldn't adequately put into words how Mythago changed my perceptions, just that it did. Through it I managed a deeper richer connection to nature, the past, and an  understanding of how they're connected, it shone a beneficial light on my spiritual path too. Not that I base my spirituality on a book, though millions do, more that Mythago Wood was a lightning rod, it acted as a key to change, and that change was illuminating. I never really leave the woods, I understand that  now.

The road to Wigan pier

I felt reading The road to Wigan pier by George Orwell that I was simultaneously looking backwards and forwards in time. Looking backwards as Orwell describes a 1930's Britain so unlike our stereotype images of a Britain populated by Mr Chumbly-Warners, cucumber sandwiches and fair play; the idealized Britain of which the establishment dream of returning. Orwell describes 1930's Britain as divided between the the poverty stricken working class masses, living in poor housing, suffering the effects of inadequate employment and unemployment and those employed working hard for little; and the middle and upper classes who on the whole looked down on the working class and poor, seeing them (if they saw them at all) as the architects of their own situations and cause of many national or social woes. In many respects little has changed, the Daily Mail was full of hateful shite, the more fortunate looked down on the less fortunate, though for most part people looked away. There were of course still communities back them, which was a bonus and on the whole things were slowly on the move up, the working classes were getting organized, there was diversity in media and people had their eye on a better future (which would arrive after the Second World War). If you like, the antithesis of Britain now as we slide into the past. It's a frightening that Orwells depiction of poor 1930's Britain is the Britain to which the establishment will have us return.

It has become clear to me that the hard won social justices bought by the suffering of the First World War and the realizations of the depression (the dole, allotments gardens and corporation housing) and those of the Second World War (like the NHS and other public services; of which of course Orwell would have known nothing of) were merely a temporary concession by the ruling establishment, a reaction to the rise of socialism, of unionization and a more aware working class; now the memories have faded, union membership is dwindling and the ruling elites are stripping our public services and preparing to return their boots to the necks of the less fortunate. I challenge anyone reading The road to Wigan pier to say that they didn't feel the fear rising up in them as they turned the pages, and realization that this is where the establishments right wing ideological policies are leading us. 

A homage to Catalonia

I picked this book up at the tip, I wish I'd read it years ago. I understand how Orwell felt to believe in movements, believe in the potential for change, believe in revolution and see all that potential for positive change, for personal and social emancipation wasted or subverted or just stolen, worse given away. Is that the nature of revolutions? It would appear it is, as they say 'the shit always rises to the top'. It's easy to become cynical or even nihilistic, I know. Written as it is, reading George Orwell's 'Homage to Catalonia' feels like you're sat with Orwell as he reminisces his experiences in the Spanish Civil War, on the Aragon Line and in Barcelona. In my head Orwell was given a sort of Mr Chumbly Warner voice, which worked for me as he first tells of Anarchist (I like the sound of them) equality and of the liberation to be found in it; the dull drudgery and random dangers of life on the front line; of the May riots and the beginning of the end; of his shooting and subsequent convalescence; and finally of political skulduggery, communist treachery, life as a fugitive and of escaping Spain. Quite an adventure and all undertaken in that totally British public school manner of the period, and with all the associated sensibilities. It's clear from reading George Orwell's 'Homage to Catalonia' that his experiences in the Spanish Civil War heavily coloured the imagery and subjects of his subsequent books 'Animal Farm' and '1984'; which both exhibit echoes of his experiences from that time. It's an interesting read, I'd recommend it.

Caligula by Suetonius

Blimey! It all started off so well for Gaius Caligula, doing all these seemingly good and groovy things as emperor; reinstating this, giving out that, building stuff, I began to wonder if my impressions of him as a complete nut job were over inflated. Then, Suetonius writes 'so much for Gaius the Emperor; the rest of this history must needs deal with Gaius the Monster', after which all the weird, violent and sadistic stuff starts happening; he really was an unpleasant and deeply twisted individual by all accounts; if he'd been born to ordinary folk he'd have been bad enough, I'm sure; but to be born into the position of ultimate imperial power, well, his depraved excesses knew no limits, nothing was off limits to him. It's incredible and really quiet scary as to what depths people can sink to. As you'd imagine, it didn't end well for him; although I'm sure it couldn't end soon enough for all those Gaius Caligula took umbridge against or a fancy to.

Plato, Socrates' Defence

Socrates' Defence by Plato; what a great read. Plato's book is but a tiny window onto the life of one of the classical periods most notable philosophers, though through Socrates' defence I got the impression he was a rebel thinker, at odds with the establishment of Athenian society, who asked more questions than he gave answers, he believe we should care more about our morals and soul than the acquisition of trinkets and such like; in that respect I saw reflections of Eastern philosophy. His defence against, what was a death penalty, seemed a moral and honourable defence that appeared bound to fail when accused by those who clearly weren't; he gently poked at his accusers, the jury and Athenian society, in a way that, to my mind, could only wind them up: funny guy. He was defiant, yet humble to the end, as you'd imagine it didn't end well for him. The last section of the book, where Socrates talks of death is thoughtful and thought provoking. I came away thinking, I must read more of Socrates. 

Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels

It's been said, if a man is not a socialist by the time he is 20, he has no heart, and if he is not a conservative by the time he is 40, he has no brain; obviously, that's utter bollocks, although too often it would appear the older folk get the more right wing they become. I first read Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, many years ago as a teen with a growing political appetite with left of center sensibilities; and so was interested to revisit it now as a jaded adult, who if the saying was true should have moved to the right, though in reality hasn't moved a at all. I still look left, still agree with their basic premises, which I believe still hold true; that equality of opportunity, a genuine stake in society and opportunity to shape said society are our fundamental rights. Now though I see some failings in how Marx and Engels thought this would or could be achieved, as well as maybe a touch of naivety. Particularly in their assertion that the necessity for the bourgeoisie to educate their workforces would lead to the downfall of the bourgeoisie and the road to salvation for working people; agreed, education can liberate people, but why hadn't they considered that education would be used as a tool by the bourgeoisie to maintain their control, as it continues too; surely they must have foreseen that the bourgeoisie would not relinquish control so easily? Of course, I'm being unfair, they couldn't foresee the future and it's too easy for me to criticize them with my benefit of hindsight; at least they proposed a better world. Though communism didn't bring about liberation, equality and opportunity for the working masses, how could it; Marx and Engels had already remarked how revolutions only became effective when a section of the bourgeoisie had broken away to become part of said revolution; inevitably ensuring the perpetuation of the old system, merely in another form. I'm sure both Marx and Engels would be pissed to see the regimes who've called themselves 'Communists', it's clearly not what they had in mind. Still a good read and certainly food for thought.

Baltasar Gracián

I've finished the first of my Penguin little black classics: Baltasar Gracián, 'How to use your enemies'. An enjoyable read and an insight into the world of the 1600's, a world of deception and illusion, it would appear much like today, which Graciáns aphorisms illustrate beautifully. Much of it raises a smile, as you it's true. His observations on human behaviour and interaction are astute, and as people is people, Graciáns words are just as pertinent for todays world.

Penguin little black classics

Penguin little black classics, at 80p each they're a bargain! And, with 80 titles to choose from you're also spoilt for choice. Each book is about 50, or so, pages long and offers an opportunity to dip into the works of some of the worlds most noted authors from across the ages. I picked up a handful of titles today and can't wait to get reading.

A Bone Forest

Todays walk is all through woodland, different woods, though all adjacent to one an other and all connected. You could walk for miles in the interconnected woodland in the area and rarely be under open sky. It seemed that where I ever we walked there were bones; a skull here, scapular there, some vertebrae, loose bones big and small. Bones all over the place. Some of the bones were laying scattered in situ where last left by whatever scavenging beasty had had them, others were set out on displayed. A collection of vertebrae equally spaced on a wooden bench; in another part of the wood more vertebrae scattered around the base of an Oak.  On the boundary of two woods a skull on a stick like some totem or warning, further into the wood another skull.  It's a bone forest if you will. Speaking of bone forests, have I ever mentioned the 'Mythago Wood' cycle of books by Robert Holdstock? A splendid writer, who knew woods and understood their magic and mystery. He published a novella called 'The Bone Forest', great story conjuring up some strange imagery which pokes at that part of our ancestral memory that remembers a very different woodland, the wildwood. All the Mythago Wood books are well worth a read. I've read the first in the cycle 'Mythago Wood' more times than I can recall. 

Feral by George Monbiot

George Monbiots Feral is a fantastic exploration into the state of our landscapes and rewilding, pointing out how unnatural our landscapes we often view as natural really are, how many species are missing from them and just how much of our natural environment we've lost.  He points out the damage government policy does, the destructive nature of agricultural subsidies, how ridiculous and unfair our farming and land use practices are, how conservation can be misguided, myopic and hide a multitude of sins; and imagines how this situation could be changed to the benefit of all (or at least the benefit of most). Archaeology taught me how man has manipulated, altered and in some cases effectively destroyed the landscapes I roam, and although I was aware, I had never really thought to what extent or how far and wide ranging our actions had been on the structures and interactions in nature. Monbiot provides examples which really make you think to what extent we live in a pale shadow of a what our natural environment should be, but more, it's getting worse.

Although I've made it sound a depressing read (and it is in parts), it's not all grim reading, not by a long way. It's full of hope and optimism. Things could change and as soon as we stop intervening negatively, either by choice or other agency, things will change and nature will heal herself and hopefully return to the diverse and fecundant state she enjoyed before our meddling. He gives examples of people and enterprises who are working towards that goal and other successes.  It's a book that sets your imagination soaring; a book about what could be.  Go on, read it, you'll enjoy it.