The Girls of Slender Means by Muriel Spark

This was very simply a lovely book to read. It takes place in 1945 just after the Second World War. We enter into the lives of the girls of the May of Tech club, which is essentially a girl’s hostel. The girls live within limited means, often exchanging rations and sharing one Schiaparelli dress for an evening out. Nicholas Farrington, a writer who is introduced to the club by Jane Wright, a publisher, falls in love with the May of Tech club and is intrigued by it and its members and we get to view the girls through his eyes.  Muriel Spark uses amusing snippets from life within the club to reveal to us the everyday happenings within, like spreading margarine over their bodies so the girls can slip out the lavatory window to sunbathe on the roof, and the older members of the club bricking up the skylight to the roof as it was rumoured a burglar (or lover) had entered through it. It is youthful and lighthearted in places, yet Spark aptly includes slices of poetry throughout the book that culminate in a dramatic ending. All the events that take place in the club seem like unrelated stories at first but they are all skillfully brought together in the end. It is cleverly written, switching from the present to the past and my only disappoint was that it was such a short book.

Uniquely you

Something I love to do is sit in the park or in a coffee shop window and watch all the people as they bustle by. I am amazed at just how many people there are on this planet; and even more intrigued by how completely unique each individual is. We each possess a nose, two eyes and a mouth, yet we are all incredibly different. Some are short, some are round, some are slim, and some are dark. Some are eccentric, others are straight laced; but no one is the same.

How strange it is then that most of us trade this originality for a boxed in existence as we try to imitate those around us. How fantastically boring life would be if we were all the same; and we’ve heard it before, if you try to be like someone else you will always be second best.

I believe that we were all made to be and achieve things that only we can do, and to reach that potential we should embrace the freedom of our unique differences.

My gorgeous friend hid a secret from the rest of us throughout our entire high school careers; she was a closet heavy metal fan!!! Although this isn’t a serious revelation, it was a shocking one for the rest of her Hanson loving, BackStreet Boys singing BFF’s! My friend is soft spoken, a kindhearted person with the most gentle nature. She is the kind of person who cries during her favourite soap and would grow faint at the mere mention of blood-she has ironically since become a doctor (she is apparently full of surprises). To discover that her favourite song was Violent Pornography by System of a Down was surprising to say the least. I’m not sure if she hid this because she didn’t want to risk being different from our group of friends; but I think we do sometimes suppress our likes, bend our beliefs and hide our desires from friends just so we can “fit in”.

When I visited The National Gallery recently something that struck me was the women in the paintings. None of them were slim and toned but rather more round and voluptuous. Convinced that an artist would not paint women that were all considered “ugly”, it must have been beautiful to have a little more meat on your bones, unlike today. Millions of women strive to achieve a beautiful body with exhausting and restricting diets because we are sold the image of conventional beauty as being skinny. I for one am very bad tempered when hungry and think it would be cruel to those around me if I were on a perpetual diet. But this is about more than just whether you are a size 8 or 12; it’s about being true to yourself and standing out amongst the millions of people around you. Hope this has encouraged you even a tiny bit to enjoy being unique. 

My Champion

 

It may be a bit clichéd, but I do believe there is a little part inside a man –probably left over from when men were warriors and would go to battle over land- that needs to find where he’s going without stopping to ask for directions. I think they need to figure it out for themselves and show their ladies that they can figure out how to get to the location, or fix the computer, or assemble the chest of drawers without any outside assistance. Girls are different. We’re not bothered who aids us, as long as we get there, or the drawers get built.

But men are conquerors, it’s in their genetic makeup; seeping through the centuries from the days when conflicts were fought and conquests were common place.

But for the average middle class male there is no battle, there are no conquests. There is only the exhilaration of programming the T.V without reading the instructions.

As a supportive wife I will follow proudly as my husband refuses to ask for directions; and we will eventually get there in the end. But sometimes I just want to go into the store, find the section with the duvet sets and get out of there. And as my husband strides down the aisle in search of the bounty; I will slip off to the side to find a shop assistant to help me. And once I have subtly led him to our destination, I will not argue when he thinks he has found it himself. What use are shop assistants anyway!

We will leave the store triumphant, my husband clutching the prize, content in his victory.

Another day, another battle won……

We Had It So Good by Linda Grant

Stephen Newman is an American born to immigrant parents. He sets sail on the SS United States as a ships steward and takes up a Rhodes scholarship at Oxford. He meets Andrea, the awkward red-head, whom he marries for convenience and the book tells the story of their lives, as well as the lives of their friends Ivan and Grace. It is a story about the baby boomer generation who wanted to change the world; who had high hopes and higher ideals. Linda Grant views everything through the eyes, and differing opinions, of the various characters. They, especially Stephen, Andrea and Ivan seem to have it all, but throughout the book Stephen is never fully satisfied; always longing for more and the life he envisioned for himself back in America. He constantly refers back to his “maroon and white SS United States cabin-boy” uniform he doesn’t fit into anymore, which symbolizes his once unknown future and the potential he possessed as a young man. Stephen and Andrea, who have humble beginnings and reject materialistic pursuits when newly married, end up owning a £3 million pound house in Islington. Ivan as a young man wanted to demolish capitalism; but enjoys a successful career in advertising and the wealth this brings him in his middle-age. Only Grace stays true to the 1960’s ideals they all shared in their youth. It was a book that drew me in immediately and I wanted to follow the lives of these characters through the decades to see how situations and circumstance would change them. I found that it had a quietly tragic tone as life doesn’t turn out how they had once hoped. It is an insightful and engaging book which I didn’t want to put down. Linda Grant does tend to change tenses often which can be a little confusing, but once you get used to it, it is thoroughly enjoyable and I would definitely recommend it.

A walk in the Park

I woke up feeling a little blue the other day. There is a point when the honeymoon phase of living in a new country disappears. We begin to get up at the same time, take the same route to work every day and the familiarity of routine becomes mundane. So my husband and I decided to go for a walk in the park. We went through Green Park and then found a spot under a tree in St James’ Park. We brought our books and I brought my notebook to do some writing; and enjoyed watching all the people pass me by. It was at this point that I felt a cup of take-away coffee would complete this movie like scene. I suggested this to my husband. There was a café close by.

“Would you like me to go get you some?” he asked.

“I bet it’ll be too expensive. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure, I can go get you some?”

“No it’s fine.” I decided it was an unnecessary expense as coffee always smells better than it tastes and I often prefer the thought of a cup of coffee than the actual drink itself. I blame television for this.

After enough time had elapsed for my husband to get completely immersed in his book again I said, “Maybe you could just go see how much it costs.”

Have I mentioned he is a very patient man?

He called me from the café to let me know his coffee pricing discoveries.

“You really shouldn’t call me like this,” I said. “I’m here with my husband. He might catch me talking to you.” He laughed. He had to; it’s in the marriage contract. We like to play silly games.

I was right; the coffee was a little over priced - on account of all the tourists I should imagine. He returned empty handed and we continued reading and people watching. I decided to make myself some coffee when we got home.

We ended the day eating pies on the stairs of Trafalgar Square with Big Ben in front of me (my most favourite London landmark).  I had one of the many moments I have here where I can’t actually believe I’m in London; and I was reminded why we moved here. Going to work the next day I wasn’t feeling so blue anymore.

We took our camera with to the park and took some pictures. Here’s what we saw…..

How cute are these chairs. I thought they looked like a scene from the 1930's or something. You did have to pay to sit on them though.  

We went to have a cuppa with the Queen but she wasn't in. Oh well, maybe next time...

Yeah baby!!!!!!!

This little squirrel was super friendly, although he was being coaxed with food. 

Some boys fetched a ball out the water and were drying their socks. I thought it made a cute shot....

All in all a very good day.

Too young for surgery

I was disgusted when I saw the story of Sarah Burge on This Morning a couple of weeks ago, who has bought her 7 year old daughter a boob job for when she turns 18. There are many instances when surgery is totally acceptable and many women are completely happy with their decision to have this procedure. Who knows, many years from now and a few kids later, I may even want a little bit of a chest lifting myself!

What I do find disturbing about this story is what this woman is teaching her young daughter about her body image at such a young age. She is basically being told that she is not good enough; that she needs surgery to be beautiful and that she is not perfect just the way she is. When this 7 year old girl looks in the mirror what must she see; a list of flaws that need to be corrected before she can be accepted for who she is?

There was another instance in America of a mother who is actually injecting her 7 year old with fillers, Botox and tattooing her eyebrows. What is upsetting is that this girl is not at the age when she can make this decision for herself and it is being made for her. She may never have wanted to have these procedures done but her mother, who should be protecting her daughter, is forcing this upon her. Doctors wisely refused to give the injections to the young girl and so this woman has bought the Botox online and is doing them herself. Besides the serious physical damage she could be doing to her daughter, she is also cementing a negative self image in her for life. And the reason she is doing all this? She wants her daughter to be famous. How ridiculous and completely selfish! This girl’s choices in life are being made for her. Her potential to become a Doctor, Designer or Lawyer is being narrowed by her mother’s desire for shallow fame. This really saddens me. I know that when I have a daughter I will make sure she knows that she is beautiful and that her character is what makes her special.

Addicted

My laptop is in for repairs. It’s the first computer that I have ever owned. My husband and I used to share one, but I always thought of it as “his” computer. I would hop on every now and again to quickly do something; but he was the one who could spend hours at a time on it.

I grew to hate this keyboarded mistress that was taking his attention away. I would poke and prod his face until, exasperated by the facial assault, he would concede and give me his undying attention. Please don’t misunderstand, I am not a neglected wife; I just like his undying attention.

The only problem is I am now the one that is totally addicted to my laptop. I am consumed by the endless options of the World Wide Web. Any question I have ever had is answered instantaneously by a simple Google search. I am now the one who has a keyboarded mistress; staying up till 12:30am, staring at an illuminated screen through puffy sleep deprived eyes.

My husband doesn’t seem to mind my new found preoccupation. He hasn’t said a word indicating any distress about my lack of spousal attention. In fact, I think he likes the peace and quiet. I think his face is enjoying not being poked if nothing else.

I miss my laptop……..