Imagined Conversation with Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann Duffy's written a new poem called Christmas Eve which is here below and I have added a few things I'd like to say to her.

Time was slow snow sieving the night, Eh? OK snow looking as if it's being sieved I can understand, now Archy has explained the charming analogy to me. But it's the night that is in the accusative here, not the snow, so that ruins that. Do you mean ‘Time was slow. It was night time. The snow came down as if through a sieve.’? Do you? Well if so that’s a fine sentiment but I don’t think you get the message across very well, so the first line (vitally important bit of the poem) serves only to make the reader feel irritated. If you mean that 'Time' was 'snow which moved slowly' and that this slow-moving snow was 'sieving the night' then my bewilderment is total and my blood will be at the full rolling boil familiar to people who make jam.
a kind of love from the blurred moon; All right, I suppose this could be construed as making sense – though the idea of the snow or love or anything except reflected light and gravitational force coming from the moon is a bit questionable. It might be love from God, via the moon, but I don't think that's what C Duffy means.
your small town swooning, ‘swooning’? Sorry, you’ve lost me here, old girl. unabashed, ‘unabashed’ I will allow you, - and ‘Winter’s own.’
was Winter’s own.

 

Snow was the mind of Time, sifting ‘Snow was the mind of Time’? What does that mean? Time hasn't got a mind.
itself, drafting the old year’s end.
You wrote your name on the window-pane
with your young hand. Well that’s quite sweet. I like “your young hand”. Well done, Carol Ann.

 

And your wishes went up in smoke,
beyond where a streetlamp studied
the thoughtful snow on Christmas Eve, OK that’s reasonable I suppose - the lamp looking as though it’s studying the snow. But snow can’t be thoughtful.
beyond belief, Beyond belief? What ARE you talking about?

 

as Time, snow, darkness, child, kindled. Kindled??? Kindled what? If you are implying that they all caught fire that is ridiculous. Time and Darkness are abstract nouns, snow is wet and children are non-combustible so kindled is pretty inappropriate here. Also to kindle is (usually) a transitive verb so you shouldn’t just leave it dangling there without an object.
Downstairs, the ritual lighting of the candles. Took place, I presume. Dear dear. Careless.

 

 

In conclusion: I am not equipped to comprehend or appreciate Carol Ann Duffy’s work.

I realise that this is my own fault and is completely due to my own shortcomings and in no way do I hold C A Duffy to blame for it. 

 

 

 

Pretentious Art Catalogue

The Exmore Art Gallery Catalogue

This is a short story in the form of a pretentious art catalogue. The chronological exhibits chart the fortunes of the group of artists. I thought this was a wonderful original way of telling the story but the Exmoor Writing Competition judges did not like it since it doesn't work very well when read out to an audience, and they wanted to read out the winning entry at the ceremony of awarding the prize. Otherwise it would definitely have won the prize as it is quite, quite hilarious and takes the mickey out of the daft claims art dealers make about some of the modern art they try to flog.

Here we are :

 

EXMORE ART GALLERY

CATALOGUE
 

A Note on the Artists



 Exhibit 2 :   Portrait of the Artist's Sister      by Artist B


 

The artists exhibiting at the Exmore Gallery are members of a small group of very young artists (age range: 2 to 14 yrs) operating at the leading edge of contemporary English art. Little known outside their Exmoor community, they produce work that may be recognised by its frenetic, undisciplined but strangely vivid nature, and the use of unconventional materials. Previously unexplored subject matter is also a feature. Driven by boredom, lack of formal skills and a heady disregard for the usual expectations of the art establishment, and drawing their inspiration from such sources as violent sibling rivalry, desire to irritate their patrons (the so-called 'Mother' and 'Dad'), certain of the more unsavoury household incidents of the rural poverty in which they live and work, and the eccentric Exmoor society that is their habitual milieu, the Exmore Group here present what is generally accepted as being the single most important body of artistic endeavour to emerge from the West Country in the present century. The artists have chosen, for reasons both of shame and of grandeur, to be known simply as Artists A, B, C and D.

 

The Gallery doubles as the artists' home and studio. It is arranged as a typical domestic setting, with exhibits displayed attached by magnets to the refrigerator, scattered on bedroom floors and left lying about on tables etc. The works are catalogued in chronological order and thus describe the rise of these artists from tentative and humble beginnings, through burgeoning confidence and increasingly ambitious compositions, to reach their present status at the top of the current art scene.

1. Snake with Udders chased by Spindly Chicken                                              Artist A
                  Running-out biro on newsprint                                                          125 gns
                                 Rare early illustration in the 'Herding Cats' style favoured by this largely-undiscovered but talented artist. Influence of Jackson Pollock and L da Vinci.

2. Portrait of the Artist's Sister                                                                           Artist B
                  Blackberry Jam on mashed potato                                                       95 gns
                               Available as a limited edition print only. This is a formative piece in the manner which Artist B has since gone on to develop further, examining the use of numerous unorthodox components.

3. I Want Some Ice Cream                                                                                    Artist C
                  Unknown liquid on paper                                                                       175 gns
                               Troubling work from the artist's 'Needy' period (2009-10) when doubts arose about the wisdom of his choice of friends.

4. Untitled                                                                                                            Artist B
                  Crayon on silk                                                                                    500 gns
                                Costly media (being the artist's mother's best dress, and a set of brand new colouring pencils) demonstrate this artist's uncompromising dedication to authenticity.

5. Tiger on the Bread Shouting                                                                            Artist D
                 Indelible marker on Homework                                                            350 gns
                                  Typical of the artist's output, this is an intensely visceral response to an expedition to feed the ducks at Dulverton.

6. Pony Climbed the Christmas Tree                                                                Artist D
                 Ink on Cardboard                                                                                 195 gns
                                  Conceived as a reaction to a notorious incident when the family's pony was let into the house by one of the Group. This work was subsequently used by the patrons as a design for a Christmas card.

7. Oh God Henry how dare you Mummy's going to be Furious                      Artist B
                 Water on bathroom floor                                                                        unpriced
                                  A dynamic artwork, fading as the water dries, its only physical existence remaining as a set of invoices for repair work.

8. Egg with Goatee Beards and Double Skyscraper #275                                  Artist A
                 Fresco on kitchen wall                                                                         NFS
                                 Thought to be an attempt by the artist to address her fear of an uncle's beard-threats, and a pair of inappropriate shoes worn by a visitor to the farmyard studio.

9. a) Smoothing Iron Goes Mad in the Reindeer Stable                                      Artist C
    b) Chicken by Toby's Head near the Landrover                                               695 gns
    c) Picnic at the Slimy Toad with Ulcers
                 Etching on table top (wood)
                                 A deeply disturbing tryptich inspired by a dermatology textbook shown to the artist when he was a baby.

10. Nurse! I'm Sinking!                                                                                        Artist B
                  Collage                                                                                               275 gns
                                Constructed of medical paraphernalia and his mother's tears, this piece commemorates the artist's visit to Casualty after an attempt to descend Porlock Hill on a go-kart.
Proceeds from the sale of  'Nurse! I'm Sinking!' will go to the Orthopaedic Dept., Taunton Hospital.

11. Landrover Fragments : 'Die, Landrover - DIE'                                            Artist A
                  Metal and glass                                                                                  345 gns
                                A site-specific installation situated at the foot of cliffs at Hurlstone Point. Visible at low tide only: it is advisable to check local tide tables before viewing.

Exhibit 6 :    Pony Climbed the Christmas Tree  (detail)      by Artist D

STOP PRESS :
Due to unscheduled production of item 12 the art show will now be housed in Porlock Village Hall.


12. Gallery Rubble       Believed to be a collaborative work by the whole Group although all 4 deny any responsibility either joint or several.
                 Rubble                                                                                    Freehold offered; POA
                               Assembled during an unsupervised chemistry experiment with TNT and gunpowder, this sculpture signifies the end of these artists' careers.

Note : After acrimonious discussions with their patrons, The Exmore Group have agreed to eschew further artistic production and to pursue careers as Babysitter (Artist A), Paperboy (Artist B), Kindergarten Student (Artist C), and Housework Assistant (Artist D).

Leopard Latest.

Cartier. Exciting News. Another picture of their leopard appeared in yesterday's Times. Poor Leopard: life doesn't get any less baffling for it. Here it is confronted by one of their new Diamond Ring Collection, and quite unable to fathom what it is for.

 

It is either an absolutely miniature leopard, or that is a ring for a giant.

 

 

I shall say no more on the subject.

 

 

 



 

A Visit to the Patek Philippe Family's Kitchen

A new insight into the life of the Patek Philippe family has been vouchsafed to us! This heart-warming image was on the back page of this week's Times magazine. Aren't we lucky?

 

It shows Mr Philippe in the kitchen with Boy Philippe, and they are MESSING WITH FLOUR but not wearing aprons. Now families who live at this level of luxury always have finest cashmere jerseys - and have you ever looked at the washing instructions on those sort of items? They strike dread into the heart of any laundryperson, I can tell you. Laughable demands for hand wash only at cool temperatures, reshape while flat, do not wring and other preposterous requirements and as for tumble drying, well, don't even consider doing such a thing. And yet these idiotic males are getting flour all over them. There won't half be trouble when Mrs Philippe gets home and sees what they've done. AND, Mr Philippe, who is supposed to be looking after that watch for the next generation, is NOT doing a very good job is he. Imagine making pastry without taking your watch off first! No proper cook would make a fundamental mistake like that. It'll get ruined; mark my words.

It is safe to say that this advertisement represents another £23,625 of Patek's advertising budget down the drain.

 

 

Furthermore, we can expect Mrs Philippe to be pretty annoyed when she sees THIS:

 

 

"Something truly precious holds its beauty for ever."? Crikey, they're sailing close to the wind, coming out with a remark like that. It is VERY unchivalrous since it implies that Mrs Philippe and Girl Philippe are not truly precious because when their lifespan is over and they go down into the grave their beauty will be lost and only the lovely pearl earrings etc. will remain. 

Mrs Philippe is not going to care much for this sentiment. I think there may be Hell To Pay.

 

Well, I wish you a Happy Christmas, Patek family - but it's not looking hopeful. Not after the flour incident, and now THIS.

 

 



Advent

 Advent, Hurrah! I like Advent. The hymns are EXCELLENT - the best section in the hymn book.  I like having a proper Advent calendar with a lovely picture of the Nativity but no chocolate in it and I like disapproving of the Spiderman Advent calendars and the My Little Pony ones in the shops. I look forward to Christmas which among other things is an excuse for fine wines. The Collect for Advent is one I hold dear. The only drawback is having to go to Confession, but even that's wonderful once it's over. The whole thing is a marvellous antidote to the horrors of English winter.

 

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico

 

I shall now list some of the excellent hymns.

Lo He comes with clouds descending, tune Helmsley. Superb tune, and some of the words are great (not all of them though, I must admit, "Deeply wailing" (verse 2) is a bit much but with that tune you are willing to put up with anything); the best bit is in the last verse

"Yea, Amen! let all adore Thee,

High on Thine eternal throne;

Saviour, take the power and glory,

Claim the kingdom for Thine own;"

                i.e. Go for it Jesus mate.

Come thou long expected Jesus. It is essential to sing this to the tune Cross of Jesus by Stainer. A first class number, with sterling work done on the words by Charles Wesley. He had a hand in Lo he comes with clouds descending as well, but this one got away without any wailing and so much the better.

On Jordan's Bank the Baptist's cry. This has the same tune as Ride on Ride on in Majesty, i.e. Winchester New, which is one of the aces.

These last 2 contain many good lines including "whose Advent sets thy people free", and "Israel's strength and consolation", which are two of my favourite remarks in all church literature.

Giovanni Bellini cracks it, big time.
Madonna and Child
 

 As we get nearer to Christmas a few rather tedious Christmas ones begin to creep in eg. In the Bleak Midwinter, an organist's nightmare with irregular metre in the different verses making it totally unsuitable for a hymn in my opinion. I used to play the hymns for a vicar who was OBSESSED with this one for some reason and we had it ten times per church (he ran several) per Christmas season, minimum. Really. Needless to say I now can't stand it, or its annoying tune Cranham though I am sorry about that since it was written by Holst. The words (Christina Rossetti is responsible) are  repetitive, sanctimonious and daft. How cold does it get in Bethlehem anyway? Ha! I've looked it up and the average lowest temperature never falls below 41°F (5°C) at any time in the year. In such a climate frosty winds are unlikely to make moan and the earth is almost certainly never as hard as iron. Christina my dear, your whole premise has just been exposed as balderdash, and we now have an excuse not to sing this infuriating carol ever again.

 

The Advent season culminates in the Carol Service at Oare with the cream of Exmoor society present, 6pm Christmas Eve all welcome and a very good occasion which people ought to see for a fine old-fashioned example of how life used to be. Sometimes the hounds attend. Actually that's a lie but they do attend weddings, if the couple hunt. There are port and mince pies in the aisle afterwards. The churchwardens ensure that the only carols used are ones that everyone i) knows and ii) wants to sing, and the lessons are read from the King James Bible. The Magnificat is sung to Henry Smart's excellent chant which everyone is familiar with as it is the one Dudley Moore used in his splendid rendition of "As I was walking down the street one day : I saw a house on fire."

 

 Usually Gerald the drinking shepherd lurches in through the door at the last minute crying "Never fear - Gerald is here", and is sent to the back where he engages the organist (me) in ribald banter during the service and displays scant respect for the offices of the Holy Church. He attends church twice a year, for this Carol Service and the Harvest Festival where with an admirable sense of humour the Rector gives him the duty of carrying the wine up the aisle when the various gifts are brought forward. As he walks back down after handing over the bottle, he receives congratulations from his friends and relatives in the congregation.

 

Once the port has all gone and the final blessing is given, the people of the Oare beau monde disperse to their own homes / go out to feed the cattle / repair to the inn, and are not seen again till the Boxing Day meet.

 

 

 

Cartier Advertises in Vain

Are you going to buy some Cartier products this Christmas? In case you are - look at these advertisements, and I GUARANTEE you will change your mind. The rings etc. and watches are hideous. They're as subtle as a, a, a... er... an amaryllis? A vindaloo? No simile exists that will do justice to the absurd height to which these gaudy trinkets take their scorn for decent, restrained values. The advertising tries, but fails, to impress upon the public the desirability of what is in truth, and costly materials notwithstanding, coarse bling. The quest was doomed from the drawing board. My point is, that spend what you will on fancy advertising campaigns, it profiteth you nothing if the merchandise doesn't cut it - and this definitely does not.

 

Look at this, and gasp :



Innocent leopard cub startled by monstrous jewellery objet.

 




"What in the name of all that's a waste of valuable precious metals is this?"

 



Leopard cub has disposed of the glittering gewgaws by pushing them away across the floor. Only empty boxes remain.
Quite reasonably the cub finds them and cherry petals infinitely more attractive.




Totally bemused by the leather bag, leopard has to have a lie down.

 



"What fresh hell...?"

 




"SURELY my eyes deceive me? There can't be MORE of this stuff."




"Right. I've had as much of this as I can stand. Engage Attack Mode. DIE, tawdry item - DIE."



There. You'll not be buying anything with a Cartier label NOW, will you? If you will, you're a stronger man than I am. This horrible collection of jewellery must have destroyed any customer-base they might once have had, as its only possible appeal is to a non-existent target demographic that consists entirely of multi-millionaire East-End barrow-boys aged 2. Population : zero. Bad luck, Cartier. Instead of spending Lord knows how much money hiring baby leopards and fake snow etc. they should have put their advertising budget into product research and designed some things people would actually want to buy. These advertisements must make everyone think Good heavens that's not the sort of thing Araminta would wear, not even when she's been on the Bolly; I shan't go to Cartier for her present.

 

 

Araminta refers you to the 18ct gold hunter in the previous post, if you want to please her at Christmas.

 

 



Advertising Done Incorrectly. The Sad Consequences.

It costs £23,625 to put an advertisement on the back cover of Saturday Times magazine, and £27,195 for a full page in the Times newspaper. It really does. Usually I just make up the data for my blog posts but these are the genuine figures. You would think that if they were going to spend that amount of money the watch companies would make sure their advertisements were definitely going to persuade people to buy their wares.
But look at this:

Patek Philippe! What possessed them? NO-ONE - NO-ONE - is going to buy any of their watches now! Who would EVER run the risk of being thought of as being like these beastly people depicted here? That overly-immaculate man is clearly getting too much money if he can afford to wear an expensive watch like that for rough games like rowing. The child is Fotherington-Thomas come back to us, and he looks covetously at the watch instead of listening to his father's instructions about not catching a crab. The father is about to smack him one whilst saying "Get your eyes off my watch, Brat. Over my dead body you are having that." (They actually admit that in the text, if you read between the lines.) Also no gentleman worthy of the name would own such an ugly watch; and as for the matching cufflinks... here we see vulgarity taken to new limits.

This self-defeating advertisement graced the whole back page of the Times magazine recently.

 

 

 

Rolex are just as bad, because this took up a page of the Times on 19th November: 

Who the devil are all these nonentities? One of them is, I think, Elvis Presley, there's a bird who might be Sophia Loren but I'm not sure, and apart from that... one of them could be William Hague though it seems unlikely. There's a fellow dressed up as a Cherokee brave for some reason, and what is presumably a ghastly sportsman (the one kissing a big cup). What they have got to do with Rolex I can not tell, and the idea that their pictures could make me want to buy a Rolex watch is absurd. There is no clear picture of any watch so it's a remarkably unhelpful use of the page. 

As for the WORDS -  dear oh dear. "This watch is a witness"? No, mate. It's a watch. It just sits there, with its hands going round. It is not a witness to anything and it does not "dare men faster", or further, or any other speed or distance. This is TOSH. Someone at the advertising agency must be squirming with shame at having written the stuff. It's as bad as that terrible British Airways campaign "To fly. To serve.", though admittedly that one granted our family HOURS of amusement teasing our brother who works for them. Anyway, you won't catch me buying a Rolex after THIS, I can tell you.

 

 

Look, boys. THIS is an advertisement that would make people buy your watch:

 

18 ct Gold Hunter.

Keeps good time.

£5

Available now

from Jewellers in Minehead High Street.

 

 

That's all you need. A fine product, with a picture to show you how lovely it is, and information about the price and where to buy it from. Notice the complete lack of silly gimmicks. The customers will flock to your counters. I am afraid it may be too late for Rolex and Patek Philippe, but thanks to me other manufacturers can benefit from the mistakes made by those foolish firms.

N.B: About the price, £5 :  I am sorry but this is a lie.