It takes a certain sort of individualistic flair to fall “up” the stairs, but I managed to go it yesterday and in the process Split the nail on the index finger of one hand and jarred the middle finger of the other. Both “injuries” are of the type which does not merit compassion only faint ridicule, but both are irritatingly uncomfortable and remind you of their presence at ever opportune and inopportune moment. Typing is one of those activities that combine maximum utility with a fairly low level of discomfort given my throbbing fingers; but I tend to think that such exercise is, in some way, “good” for my trifling injuries and will ensure their disappearance in extra quick time.
I have discovered that falling and landing on your middle finger is not the most enjoyable of experiences but it does reinforce those half remembered lessons in physics about the increase of force when momentum is concentrated on a small point!
I am now well into the Follett novel and am becoming increasingly irritated by the way in which the author gives extra historical information for the benefit of readers who might lack the necessary general knowledge to follow the text. As his novel is set in 1914 and we are now firmly in the trenches there is a lot of scope for explanation, which he never fails to give.
I know that general knowledge is obvious to those who know and incomprehensible to those who don’t. You either know the three rivers that flow through Cardiff or you don’t. If you do then the information is obvious and if you don’t then the guesses get more and more wild.
Follett’s book is for a general readership and its swathe of geography and history is “breathtaking” (as I am sure the advertising states) so there is a necessity for illumination at certain points but it is nonetheless irritating.
The joins in the formula for writing a book like this are also showing and, although I am devouring the damn thing, I am feeling slightly cheated at the same time. I can see no discernible difference in the structural form of this book from the other two that I have read. To be fair to Follett: why should he change when he has had such notable success in the past? Why indeed and, after all, in spite of my misgivings I did buy the book and I am, in spite of what I am saying, enjoying the book.
Although cold we are enjoying bright sunshine and, yet again, I look wistfully at the panoramic views which sweep down to the Mediterranean and wonder what the hell I am doing here.
Tomorrow, as far as I can work out from the information given to me by the kind people in the UK, will be the first time that I begin to get back some of the money that I have been putting away for the last few decades. It will be a revealing moment for me to find out exactly how much my profession thinks that I am worth after giving an inordinate amount of my time to the education of the young!
I think that it will be another of those “wait-a-minute” moments that will give a new reality to my present way of living.
These questions are more pressing because (partially because of the “wasted” sunshine) I sense the sort of negativity in the staff today which makes me ponder more urgently the application to my own situation of many of the relative pronouns which I have been suggesting that the kids might like to learn!
I listened with disbelief to the pronouncements of the Bishop of Rome about contraception. In the real world I think that his attitude is viciously out of kilter with the demands of the world today, but I also felt a sort of sneaking delight unravelling why he said what he said.
He seems (translation is a tricky thing) to have said in his “book long interview” that male homosexual prostitutes can wear condoms to prevent the spread of disease, specifically that of AIDS. But female prostitutes? Apparently not. The theological justification is that there can be no chance of conception when two men are having sex so that the contraceptive device does nothing to interfere with the conception because there cannot be one. Whereas, on the other hand with female prostitutes there is a chance of contraception and therefore . . .
This puts me in mind of what I have read about the high days of Byzantium when it was said that it was impossible to have a hair cut without engaging your barber in a discussion about the niceties of theology about the divinity or otherwise of Jesus; co-substantial: co-eternal; being one with the Holy Ghost and God the Father etc. taking first place as the number one hot topic to produce a lively conversation while the hair fell!
The truly horrific death rate from AIDS in Africa cannot, of course have any bearing on the debate about contraception in the Roman Church (a nicely ambiguous sentence there!) because the important practicalities have to be based on Jesuitical (naturally) reasoning which uses nit-picking theology rather than the needs of a dying continent!
A much more civilized meeting after school with a colleague preceded by a selection of tapas ranging from stuffed vine leaves to crystallized fruit – a simple repast with actual work afterwards! The things I do for education!
I am now steadily working my way through the Follett novel, though I have steadfastly refused to take it to school to read in the moments that are not filled with teaching or preparation. Such activity is frowned upon in school as every available moment in our ridiculously long day is expected to be filled with school work. However, as far as I am concerned reading is furthering the subject content which is essential for my discipline. Or something.
Only a hundred or so pages to go and we have only had half a dozen remarkable coincidences so far, so plenty of room for a few more before the saga comes to an end!
And still no real preparation for the jaunt to Britain!
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