At the other end of the musical spectrum,
Thanks to lunisolar snapback, Hanukkah like every other holiday this year seems to have sprung up out of nowhere, but we managed to get hold of candles last night and tomorrow will engage in the mitzvah of last-minute cleaning the menorah.
P.S. I fell down a slight rabbit hole of Bruce Adler and now feel I have spent an evening at a Yiddish vaudeville house on the Lower East Side circa 1926.
I think this is an absolutely terrible idea, and that they should be giving book tokens, and, okay, maybe recommendations, but letting people choose their books:
30 authors on the books they give to everyone
I am in particular stunned by the choices of Some People, e.g. Colm Tóibín's Christmas Downer:
There is a book I buy as a present that never goes out of fashion. It is The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford.... the extraordinary plot creeps up and bites you before you know where you are. The narrative curls and twists; the narrator knows too much or too little. But at some point the appalling and ingenious nature of the treachery – what is called “cheating” nowadays – becomes apparent and you feel that you have been let in on some intriguing and explosive secret. It is perfect, thus, for Christmas.
I am also beswozzled by what Tessa Hadley considers comfort reading: Rumer Godden??? Okay, some of her works fall into that category, but on the whole I would not consider the ones she does name - The River in particular - exactly comforting.
Much as I love them, I would not press into anyone's hands Middlemarch, The Fountain Overflows, Cold Comfort Farm or The Pursuit of Love, urging that they they must read this.
I am reminded of GB Shaw's rewrite of the Golden Rule, about not doing to others as you would be done by, as tastes differ.
Take it away, Sly and the Family Stone!
Suddenly it seems like Christmas is more imminent than I thought - I was going, oh, it is only the beginning of December, and now we are nearly 2 weeks in and aaaaargh.
Anyway, I have managed to get off the book tokens for the great-nieces and nephews - I was waiting on my sister coming back to let me know that, yes, they are all still readers, and then looked again at her email in which she said, would let me know if not....
So I got on to that and I had clearly erased from memory how immensely tiresome Waterstones site is should you want to purchase physical gift cards for several people, you have to make a separate purchase for each one, moan groan, and quite soon reached point where credit cards went 'we are sending you OTP' as you put in details yet another time.
Am feeling a bit generally fratchy today after a night troubled with resurgence of hip issue - probably due to a certain amount of standing about at Institution of Which I Am Honoured to Be A Fellow's Party yestere'en.
Had a moderately agreeable time and pleasant conversation but am still irked that the email issue remains unresolved.
Also, having determined to ring opticians to confirm appointment for dilation test - after a very satisfactory, insofar as holding one's head in awkward positions and having lights flashed in one's eyes can be thus designated, eye-test on Wednesday, at which it was determined I did not need new glasses, hooray, hooray, person I was dealing with right at the end looked at my notes and asked how long it was since they did a dilation test, which resulted in booking me in for a week's time. However, did not get any confirmation, odd I thought since they had been inundating me with texts and emails reminding me of the eye-test. So I was going to ring them but then they rang, going ooops, we are actually closed that day for training, can we reschedule. So rescheduled.
(Since this heddle's holes are too small for a reed hook (which I don't have) or a crochet hook of a size to snag the cotton yarn, I used the Stoorstålka suohpan---a little nylon loop---included with its heddle. A US knockoff product is available, slightly cheaper for me than paying shipping individually from Jokkmokk.)
I still haven't begun weaving with those seven cotton strands because the Stoorstålka backstrap, as demonstrated by their rep, doesn't stay on me. There's a remedy for it, however!
I've unearthed a backstrap starter kit from my first dip into weaving and braiding, purchased more than 25 years ago (it refers to making a case for one's cellphone or pager). It's meant for kids and kid-reach. Its backstrap is a piece of thin nylon rope, affixed to a (useful) band-lock. I have to step into and out of it. But someone pre-warped it 25+ years ago, and I've used it slowly to weave a basic band.
That band could become a backstrap slightly better than the nylon rope, which is a backstrap-using weaver's equivalent of a coder's "hello, world". I'd rather practice, then make something a bit wider. The kit's strap, which is drying with its ends braided, is only 2 cm across.
It seems to me that the main difference between weaving a band (suitable as strap, belt, etc.) and weaving cloth is how strongly each row of weft is beaten, pushed into its neighbors. The tools or loom type used don't matter, except insofar as they aid or limit the implementation.
Like fishing and sailing (but not like knitting, which is far younger a craft), weaving has a lot of terms of art in English. I started making myself a list to check whether I'd understood things consistently across different texts and videos; by now it's longer than several of my recent posts together. That's next, after I drain it of some sidechat, and then I'll resume posting about non-weaving things.

This is rather news to me - I think of people protesting the enclosure of commons as doing this a) a lot earlier and in more rural parts: Today in London’s parklife: 1000s destroy enclosure fences, Hackney Downs, 1875:
The 1870s were a high point of anti-enclosure struggles in the London area, following on from a decade of (mostly, though not exclusively) peaceful campaigns to prevent large open spaces being developed in the 1860s. Wanstead Flats in 1871, Chiselhurst Common in 1876, Eelbrook Common (Fulham) in 1878, all saw direct action against fences, as part of long-running resistance against the theft of common land.
....
Many of these struggles were characterised by the large-scale involvement of radical movements, as London radicals, secularists and elements who would later help to form socialist groups made open space and working class access to it a major part of their political focus. Radical land agitation, notably through the Land and Labour League, was beginning to revive the question of access to land as a social question, and within cities this manifested as both battles to defend green space, and propaganda around the theft of the land from the labouring classes.
The struggle is not over:
Centuries of hard fought battles saved many beloved places from disappearing, and laws currently protect parks, greens and commons. But times change… Pressures change. Space in London is profitable like never before. For housing mainly, but also there are sharks ever-present looking to exploit space for ‘leisure’. And with the current onslaught on public spending in the name of balancing the books (ie cutting as much as possible in the interests of the wealthy), public money spent on public space is severely threatened.
Many are the pressures on open green spaces – the costs of upkeep, cleaning, maintenance,
improvement, looking after facilities… Local councils, who mainly look after open space, are struggling. Some local authorities are proposing to make cuts of 50 or 60 % to budgets for parks. As a result, there are the beginnings of changes, developments that look few and far between now, but could be the thin end of the wedge.
So you have councils looking to renting green space to businesses, charities, selling off bits, shutting off parks or parts of them for festivals and corporate events six times a year… Large parts of Hyde Park and Finsbury Park are regularly fenced off for paying festivals already; this could increase. Small developments now, but maybe signs of things to come. Now is the time to be on guard, if we want to preserve our free access to the green places that matter to us.
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HEIR, the Historic Environment Image Resource:
HEIR’s mission is to rescue neglected and endangered photographic archives, unlock their research potential, and make them available to the public.
HEIR contains digitised historic photographic images from all over the world dating from the late nineteenth century onwards. HEIR’s core images come from lantern slide and glass plate negatives held in college, library, museum and departmental collections within the University of Oxford. New resources are being added all the time, including collections from outside the University.
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Dragon’s teeth and elf garden among 2025 additions to English heritage list:
The heritage body publishes a roundup of unusual listings to draw attention to the diversity of places that join the national heritage list for England each year.
As well as the anti-tank defences, this year’s list of 19 places includes a revolutionary 1960s concrete university block, a model boat club boathouse built in 1933 by men who were long-term unemployed, and a magical suburban “elf garden”.
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Art history is too important to be the preserve of the privileged:
The act of looking has become commodified as technology companies ‘mine and sell our attention like coal’, as Kee writes. Letting art history become endangered and drift further into elite status is not only unfair, it’s also perilous. ‘Art history gives you tools to interpret the visual world and makes you more of a critical viewer of political messages, advertising and a barrage of social media images,’ says Perry. ‘It’s dangerous if you can’t examine these things critically.’
What I read
Finished Saving Suzy Sweetchild, which has our protag not only dealing with the usual movie hassle but being called in to deal with the papers of a suddenly deceased in possibly suspicious circumstances academic, as well as (with the usual cohorts) trying to work out what exactly the game is with the apparent kidnapping for ransom of child star, who is beginning to age out of cuteness. We observe that the classic sleuths may sometimes have had two mysteries on their hands but very seldom had to multitask like this.
Some while ago I read an essay by Ursula Le Guin on the novels of Kent Haruf: I fairly recently picked up Our Souls at Night (2015), which is more or less novella length, as a Kobo deal, and it was well-written, and unusual if very low-key, and I daresay I might venture on more Haruf but am in no great rush to do so.
Then on to Upton Sinclair, The Return of Lanny Budd (1953) - perhaps not quite as good as the earlier entries in the series - some of it felt a bit info-dumpy - Lanny and his friends who are promoting peace face the problem of Soviet Stalinist Communism in the Cold War era. I can't help contemplating them and thinking that they are probably going to be sitting targets for HUAC in a few years' time, because they are coming at the issue from a democratic socialist perspective and I suspect their Peace Program is going to be considered deeply sus by McCarthyism. Also, Lanny jnr is going to be of draft age come the 1960s....
On the go
To lighten the mood, Alexis Hall, Audrey Lane Stirs the Pot (Winner Bakes All #3) arrived yesterday.
Up next
The new (double-issue) Literary Review
Also (what was in the straying parcel last week) Dickon Edwards (whom some of you may remember from LJ days?) Diary at the Centre of the Earth: Vol. 1.
( We know by now that time does not take sides. )
With this one example to go by, he was a better playwright than poet, but except for the self-deprecation which should definitely have hit the cutting room floor, it's hard to want to edit much out of a poem with so much anger at the injustice of a country that wastes its artists in scapegoating xenophobia, besides which there's at least one good line per actor and sometimes more. He wouldn't even have been living in the United States by the time of its writing, having burned off the last of his contract with Columbia by the end of 1951. He hadn't burned off his anger. No reason he should have. I may be confused by the existence of his Hollywood career, but I'm still pissed about the politics that snapped it short. The twentieth century could stop coming around on the guitar any measure now. On Sunday, I'll be at the HFA.
London Pride has been handed down to us:
Busiest Thoroughfare of the Metropolis of the World - review of book on the history of The Strand.
Over 250,000 images of London from the collections at The London Archives and Guildhall Art Gallery
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Heritage endangered:
The Royal Society of Medicine is putting some of its rarest books and photographs up for sale at Christie’s this month. Is this a case of medical negligence? Screaming. The GMC should strike them off.
Rare piece of Australia's Indigenous history captured on camera in the desert
According to a local anthropologist in Broome, the photos were taken by a nurse who was volunteering at the La Grange mission.
In his opinion, the images are extraordinary — one of the rare moments of "first contact" on the Australian continent to be captured on camera.
The originals were donated to a Catholic Church archive, which is not accessible to the public.
But it turns out there are copies. On a dusty CD buried in the boxes of an elderly author.
I have a lot of questions here about disinterring the original - I have very cynical thoughts about the church 'archive', as probably a storeroom in a basement somewhere - and in general things which are literally hidden in the (unprocessed, uncared for) archives of some institution.
And at this I can only fall on the floor, weeping and going 'the horror, the horror': [S]ome AI chatbots (such as ChatGPT, Gemini, Copilot, Bard and others) may generate incorrect or fabricated archival references.
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Gender and learning:
The Real Way Schools are Failing Boys - though possibly, just de-emphasise competition, for starters???
Estrogen levels predict enhanced learning (at least in rats....)

Margaret Atwood seems to be claiming some kind of unusual prescience for herself when writing The Handmaid's Tale:
Speaking on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs, Atwood said she believed the plot was “bonkers” when she first developed the concept for the novel because the US was the “democratic ideal” at the time.
Me personally, I can remember that the work reading group discussed it round about the time it first came out - and I remarked that it was getting a lot of credit for ideas which I had been coming across in feminist sff for several years....
I think the idea of a fundamentalist, patriarchal, misogynist backlash was pretty much in people's minds?
I've just checked a few dates.
At least one of the potential futures in Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time (1976).
Margaret O'Donnell's The Beehive (1980) .
Suzette Haden Elgin's Native Tongue (1984) and sequels.
Various short stories.
Various works by Sheri Tepper.
I'm probably missing a lot.
And assorted works in which there was an enclave or resistance cell of women embedded in a masculinist society.
I honestly don't think a nightmare which was swirling around at the time is something that can be claimed as woah, weird, how did I ever come up with that?
I'm a bit beswozzled by the idea that in the early-mid 80s the USA was a shining city on a hill, because I remember reviewing a couple of books on abortion in US post-Roe, and it was a grim story of the erosion of reproductive rights and defensive rearguard actions to protect a legal right which could mean very little in practice once the 1977 Hyde Amendment removed federal funding, and an increasingly aggressive anti-choice movement.
This article on the megaliths of Orkney got Dave Goulder stuck in my head, especially once one of the archaeologists interviewed compared the Ring of Brodgar to sandstone pages. "They may not have been intended to last millennia, but, now that they have, they are stone doors through which the living try to touch the dead."
I wish a cult image of fish-tailed Artemis had existed at Phigalia, hunting pack of seals and all.
Any year now some part of my health could just fix itself a little, as a treat.
This week's bread: Country Oatmeal aka Monastery Loaf from Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno's Bread (2:1:1 wholemeal/strong white/pinhead oatmeal), a bit dense and rough-textured - the recipe says medium oatmeal, which has seemed hard to come by for months now (I actually physically popped into a Holland and Barrett when I was out and about the other day and boy, they are all about the Supplements these days and a lot less about the nice organic grains and pulses, sigh, no oatmeal, no cornmeal, etc etc wo wo deth of siv etc). Bread tasty though.
Friday night supper: groceries arrived sufficiently early in the pm for me to have time to make up the dough and put the filling to simmer for sardegnera with pepperoni.
Saturday breakfast rolls: adaptable soft rolls recipe, 4:1 strong white/buckwheat flour, dried blueberries, Rayner's Barley Malt Extracxt, turned out very nicely.
Today's lunch: savoury clafoutis with Exotic Mushroom Mix (shiitake + 3 sorts of oyster mushroom) and garlic, served with baby (adolescent) rainbow carrots roasted in sunflower and sesame oil, tossed with a little sugar and mirin at the end, and sweetstem cauliflower (some of which was PURPLE) roasted in pumpkin seed oil with cumin seeds.
When I read in passing that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1966) had begun life as a one-act comedy entitled Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Meet King Lear, I went to fact-check this assertion immediately because it sounded like a joke, you know, like one of the great tragedies of the English stage starting out as the farcical Romeo and Ethel the Pirate's Daughter and then a ringing sound in my ears indicated that the penny had dropped.
Speaking of, I have seen going around the quotation from Arcadia (1993) on the destruction and endurance of history:
We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more. Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again. You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?
Stoppard was not supposed to have known the full extent of his Jewishness until midlife, but it is such a diasporic way of thinking, the convergent echo of Emeric Pressburger is difficult for me not to hear. I keep writing of the coins in the field, everything that time gives back, if not always to those who lost it.
Sonali Dev, Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors, The Rajes 1 (2019)
Recipe for Persuasion, The Rajes 2 (2020)
Incense and Sensibility, The Rajes 3 (2021)
Beyond the pairwise romance ostensibly cranking its plot, the first book is a love letter to third-culture kids whose lives have been bent by contradictory familial expectations, and an acknowledgment of bits of the wreckage wrought by postcolonial aspiration. Light touch, relatively, but I appreciate that these books say some of the quiet things aloud about costs and---better---that several characters encourage each other to speak to someone specific.
"Raje" isn't ordinarily a surname, which makes it a good choice.
Perhaps the most important feature of the setting, as a fix-it, is that when the kids who figure in these books as adult characters were growing up, several older relatives were local. I also appreciate the queer side-character situationship, whose arc suits the books' setting.
Anyway, four books total---none for Mansfield Park, which I think would be tough to fit. The fourth is The Emma Project (2022), which I've begun.