The greatest songs are those that demand to be sung again. The reasons for wanting to do so can differ. It may be for the song’s great popularity among a particular set of people, who find self-identification in hearing it once again. It may be in the quality of the songwriting, whose subtleties compel theRead More
After four months of Coronavirus lockdown, I was able to sit once more in a coffee shop, drink my coffee and read a newspaper. It felt like returning to myself. The shop was a Costa branch; it’s about fifty yards down the road from where I live. The shop has re-opened for a while now,Read More
Something in all of us yearns for the sea. I am travelling on a train. I don’t know when exactly; it might be the late 1980s or early 1990s. The train has come from London and is heading along the north Kent coast. I am headed for Whitstable, to see family. It is summertime, andRead More
Among the many allusions, startling images and examples of mischievous wordplay that litter Bob Dylan’s new album, Rough and Rowdy Ways, this gem from ‘My Own Version of You’ is a favourite: I pick a number between one and two And I ask myself, “What would Julius Caesar do?” What is Dylan asking the listenerRead More
I have been going round and round in circles. With all of the interesting and historical and often beautiful sites on offer, near to home or within a reasonable walking distance, increasingly I have found myself drawn to one small corner of Rochester. The Riverside development is a major regeneration programme, converting a large areaRead More
There are some small out-of-the-way landing-places on the Thames and the Medway, where I do much of my summer idling. Running water is favourable to day-dreams, and a strong tidal river is the best of running water for mine. I wish those words were mine. They fit so precisely with my thoughts and my locationRead More
So much of the past is now unreadable. Not just in a metaphysical sense, but quite literally so. Volume upon volume of the stuff that you cannot imagine anyone having had the stamina or the interest to attempt at the time. I pick up some works of the Victorian era and pity the typesetters. TimeRead More
It’s another sunny day. Today I shall visit Rochester, because Rochester is where I live, and to where I am confined in these days of Coronavirus lockdown, even as that lockdown is beginning to be eased. For the time being, Rochester is the world. Early morning Zoom call, talking to early evening Sydney. How quicklyRead More
There can hardly be a better place for observing the continuum of history and time than the Medway valley. While life may appear to have slowed to a standstill in these days of lockdown, brought about by the coronavirus pandemic, everywhere I turn there are the layers of time, as though looking at an exposedRead More
The oldest item in my book collection dates from 1809. It is small volume with 314 pages of minuscule type entitled The Tablet of Memory. The early nineteenth century being an age of grandiloquent book titles, its full name naturally fills most of a page: The Tablet of Memory; Shewing Every Memorable Event in History,Read More