Temporary like Achilles

I can't remember where it was that I read it, but the English poet Simon Armitage was making a comment about Bob Dylan - saying that he was a late convert (as was I) to the great man, but if you take the music away it is A-Level poetry (which if you are reading this outside of the UK, refers to exams taken by 17/18 year-olds prior to university).


Hmm. This seems a bit of a re-run of the 'Is Dylan as good as Keats' argument. And what a pointless debate it is. No - Dylan isn't Keats. Even Shelley wasn't Keats. But then Simon Armitage isn't Keats either. And you don't get the music with him either.


The thing with song lyrics is that they are sung. They are not trying to be poems, A-Level or otherwise. They are not poems set to music. You can't make a judgement about them without the music. They are part of the music. But they can still be great. They can still speak to the heart and be amazingly evocative.

And most importantly they have to stand repetitive listening. I can't think how many times I've heard Sad-Eyed Ladies of the Lowlands or Positively 4th Street, or Tangled Up in Blue or Don't Think Twice It's Alright or Temporary Like Achilles but I know I'm a long way from being bored with any of them.

In fact I'm a long way from even being bored by those titles.

Feral bushes

I was hunting around for illustrations to send to my agents - Law Ltd - to go on their website, and I came acros this. It is an illustration to Uncle Montague that I had completely forgotten about. It comes from a really early stage in the book's development when I was seeing Edgar's chat with Uncle Montague happening in a kind of 1950s fantasy world, and the stories being Victorian/Edwardian.


The drawing is of Edgar walking past the topiary bushes that have gone wild. It is a bit fussy and the figure of Edgar doesn't quite work. But I like the bushes.

What are you reading?

I went to London today to take part in the Kingston Festival. I was booked to do a talk at Chessington Community College and trained and tubed it to Waterloo where I was met by Alice Shortland from Bloomsbury marketing. We in turn trained it over to Chessington South where we were greeted by Vanessa Howe, the enthusiastic festival organiser, and a torrential downpour.

I spoke to a large group of 11 and 12 year olds who were the usual mix of attentive and restless. I did stop the reading at one point to ask someone to be quiet, but I don't usually do that sort of thing. It is the job of the staff at a school (in my opinion) to prime the kids (so that they know who you are and what to expect) and to maintain discipline during the visit. It is the author's job to amuse and enthuse and inspire. It's best not to mix things up. I want them to enjoy the visit, not feel like it's something onerous being foisted on them.

I'm not sure I was at the top of my game today though. It is quite hard to get the right mood - and the stories do require a bit of calm and concentration. I really need a roaring fire and a wing-back armchair, but what are you gonna do? Maybe they'll invite me back when their new library is built and I'll have another go. I hope so.

They were were a nice group of kids and I would have liked longer to chat with them. They asked good questions and there were some fascinating answers to my question 'What are you reading?' One boy was reading H P Lovecraft of all people - another was reading Philip K Dick. Philip K Dick! It certainly beats the usual Anthony Horowitz and Darren Shan (though they were mentioned of course) and it was worth the journey on its own.

Michaelhouse cafe

I'm off to the Kingston Festival tomorrow to speak to 60+ eleven and twelve year olds at Chessington Community College. I suppose I really ought to give some thought as to what I'm going to say.

I watched a movie with my son this afternoon of Holes, from the book by Louis Sachar. Great book and a pretty decent film.

Tomorrow is the opening of the exhibition by our friends Anne Cunningham, Judith Weik and Isa Tenhaeff at the Michaelhouse Cafe here in Cambridge. Go along and see it if you are in Cambridge or visit Anne, Judith and Isa's websites if you aren't.

He tells me stories. . .

Three copies of the audio book of Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror arrived today. It is produced by the Chivers imprint under the BBC Audiobooks umbrella. It is read by the actor Bill Wallis who does a fantastic job. In fact I had to stop listening as it was going to put me off when I come to read the stories myself on Monday at Kingston.

Seraphim

I saw my friend Joad Raymond at the school gates today. One of the things I most enjoy about talking to him is how quickly my woefully thin knowledge is exhausted. It makes me smile. I can keep up with him for about thirty seconds and then I am floundering. I like that feeling actually. I'd rather be out of my depth than paddling.

Joad is working on a book about angels. We talked about the Garden of Eden, about Eve, about Satan and he told me about seraphim and how they cover the blinding brilliance of their bodies with their three pairs of wings.

He left me with the words, 'I just have Genesis and Hell to do and then I'm done.' There are not many people who start their working day saying that.

A day of doodling

I must have drawn a hundred heads today. When I was a cartoonist working for newspapers, I did at least one drawing every day. I'm a bit rusty and it takes me a bit longer to get going. Here are a few heads I came up with.

And in a bored moment I did this drawing of Will Self. It really is no more than a doodle, but it does have something of Self about it - I like the drawing anyway. I was a caricaturist for many years and always found it frustrating. Getting a likeness at short notice can be torture, but it is the more the fact that I seldom did a caricature that I liked as a drawing.

The masters of caricature - like David Levine say - always manage to produce something that is actually interesting as a drawing as well as absolutely nailing the likeness. So often caricatures do neither.