November 2007 - Posts
So Beowulf is appearing at a cinema near you. From the reviews I have read it is a travesty of our finest Early English poem. Should we care? Probably; but it will introduce people who have never heard of it to their cultural roots. It may even teach them to spell Beowulf. One thing it won't do is pursued any film goers to actually read the book.
Beowulf has a remarkable history. It survived in just one manuscript which was originally in the library of Sir Robert Cotton. The good news was that his grandson presented the library to the nation in 1700. As the Cotton Mansion, where the library was housed, was in a state of disrepair the library was moved to a safer building. The bad news was that the safer building burnt down on 23 October 1731. A quarter of the books were lost and many damaged. The Lindisfarne Gospels were saved, and what a loss that would have been, but the amazing Cotton Genesis (a 5th century copy of the Book of Genesis in late antique style) was largely destroyed leaving just 15 scraps of vellum. The librarian escaped clutching the 5th century Codex Alexandrinus under his arm.
Good old Beowulf just made it, being singed round the edges with brittle leaves but largely intact. So we very nearly missed the opportunity to watch chaps with computer enhanced pecs taking their kit off in chilly Denmark, where Beowulf takes place.
I am beginning my next novel, shuffling slowly into the plot outline. Everybody has at least one novel inside them waiting to come out we are told. Maybe, but is it interesting? Is it publishable?
You may have been an orphan, abused by Catholic priests, ran away to sea, found buried treasure, invested it in a third hand fishing vessel and eventually built the business up to the world's biggest merchant fleet. But can you write about it? Actually even if you can't an editor would give you a six figure advance and a ghost writer for that story. But what about the satisfaction? Okay, so it is a bad example and you wouln't care and would spend the money buying yet another apartment in Manhatten. Or, as the dollar is now worth hardly anything; all of Manhattan. But for the rest of us an autobiographical novel (and most first novels are to some degree) would be really boring.
So unless you have a very, very good idea, which you can keep going for a minimum of 50,000 words, lie down in a darkened room until the urge to write anything at all goes away.
For those of a determined disposition, however, I will record what I do as I go from enthusiasm to despair over the next few months.
Horse Painters has been fired off to a large agent, a medium sized agent and a small agent. No doubt the first of many firings.
I am poised to start my next novel. Before Horse Painters I wrote a plot outline and character sketches which I hoped to progress. Sadly I have lost a lot of material and can't remember the details. This is deeply depressing.
My writing this week has been limited due to an argument with a Dutch lorry on the M25. Fortunately nobody was hurt and the lorry driver wished me, 'Safe journey,' before she drove off. A philosophy which was missing before she hit me. This resulted in multiple form filling, hanging on the telephone for twenty minutes listening to what Noel Coward called ' cheap music' and then speaking to most of the population of the Indian sub continent. Unfortunately none of my Indian friends spoke to each other regarding my case, so I took delivery of a new car before a courtesy car turned up.
I am amazed that it will take an average of twelve months to resolve an insurance claim with a continental driver. After all, in that period of time the Empire State Building was nearly completed, a tall ship could circumnavigate the globe(three times) and one could become a parent. However a moderate insurance claim cannot be finalised.
I have just seen 'Alex' at the Arts Theatre. Not the Cambridge Arts Theatre which, due to a misguided architectural makeover some years ago, has all the atmosphere and delight of an Easy Jet departure lounge. It is at the rather better Arts Theatre in London. 'Alex' is based on the Daily Telegraph cartoon character, a devious investment banker. He is played by Robert Bathurst who does a ninety minute solo performance, supported by cartoon backdrops. It is quite brilliant. Do see it before the show closes on 8 December.
I am immersed in preparing the Agent submission for 'Horse Painters'. I am having to change the synopsis and query letter from the American idiom to UK speak, but otherwise the writer did a good job and it certainly saved me a lot of work. The sales pitch has almost convinced me that 'Horse Painters' is the best thing since 'Alice in Wonderland,' but not quite.
I was delighted to see a few weeks ago that a library in Germany won the Stirling Prize for Architecture. We need all the libraries we can get, preferably good ones. They are a badge of civilisation in a nation and, when civilisation breaks down, they give the mob something to loot.