The penny dreadful, “Sweeney Todd”, original name “The String of Pearls: A Romance”, is one of those stories that everything thinks they know and very often mistaken. My edition of the complete collected parts was sold off the back of Tim Burton’s feature film adaptation of the musical, “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” and bears a cover design taken directly from the promotional pictures of the 2007 film. If readers were expecting a blood-soaked story, starring a vengeful anti-hero then they will be somewhat disappointed. The original story never once describes a throat being cut, although it is implied and threatened a lot. Even Todd’s murderous mechanical chair is only twice described in action. This is a text that is representative of its time and I urge interested readers to view it within that context.

The book contains the complete collected serial as well as an introduction written by Sweeney Todd expert, Robert L. Mack, and also annotated endnotes written in prose-form by the same writer. The authorship of the original story is still in question, but the strongest candidates for full or co-authorship are James Malcolm Rymer and Thomas Peckett Prest. Rymer and Prest are also both the strongest candidates for the other famous example of the penny dreadful form, “Varney the Vampire”, which finished its syndication around the same time as Sweeney Todd would be concluded.

For those who are not familiar with the term, a penny dreadful was a form of serialized British fiction that was popular in 19^thcentury. Later comparisons might be found with the pulp fiction novels of the US and the Italian Giallo fiction or even the very short radio serials of the 20^th century. The title comes from the fact that the parts of the story were sold at a penny and their content was usually sensationalist prose. “The String of Pearls: A Romance” was serialized from 1946 to 1947 at the height of the demand for penny dreadfuls and was published in Edward Lloyd’s “The People's Periodical and Family Library” magazine. Lloyd was in the thick of the penny dreadful craze and was notorious for his publication of Charles Dickens plagiarisms. I am grateful to the excellent annotations and introduction by Robert L. Mack who puts forward the idea that Lloyd may have had a lot of input into the actual text and this can be seen by its Dickensian elements.

A large portion of the story focuses on the plights of the poor who struggle to live in London. Both Todd and his accomplice, the meat-pie vendor, Mrs Lovatt, take advantage of the penniless and destitute, imprisoning them in their service as slaves. Lovatt’s servants are condemned to live a life in her basement, making meat pies. Their only payment is eating pies and their only way out of her shop is death. Tobias Ragg, the long-suffering assistant of Sweeney Todd, experiences both the tyranny of an employer who holds him with various terrible threats and also life inside a corrupt Georgian mental institution.

Whilst reading the story I was drawn to reflect on various different ideas. The structure of the entire story read as a novel is odd to say the least. The story meanders off in various different directions, resulting in nothing that has an overall bearing on the whole story. Therefore, as a novel, which is what this edition is marketed as such, the book fails. Snobbery to one side, there is certainly truth in the assumption that the shilling serialized novels started by Charles Dickens’s “The Pickwick Papers” in 1836 had a higher level of literary merit to Lloyd’s penny dreadfuls. The more expensive serials that proceeded and succeeded “The String of Pearls” in the 19^thcentury tend to come together as thought out stories that work as a cohesive whole. It is little surprising that the work does not stand firmly alongside other famous examples of Gothic literature and it would be wrong to have it included in a “classic horror” collection.

Nevertheless, the legend of Sweeney Todd has survived for almost two hundred years and we cannot base the entirety of this longevity on Stephen Sondheim’s 1979 musical any more than we can base the lasting allure of Gaston Laroux’s Gothic 1910 novel, “The Phantom of the Opera”, on Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 1986 musical. In fact, Todd’s pernicious grip on our imagination is arguably stronger in some ways compared to his other Gothic counterparts. Besides latter day desperate attempts to find links between Vlad Dracula of Walachia and Bram Stoker’s supernatural fiend, there is no cultural belief that “Dracula” was based on a true story. The same goes for the most famous creations of Laroux, Mary Shelley, Robert Louis Stevenson and the like. However, the spectre of Sweeney Todd permeates our consciousness perhaps even more so than Sherlock Holmes, who is occasionally mistaken for a real 19^thcentury personality.

It is too easy to look back and tut-tut at the crudeness of such a story’s structure, but such wandering off is still part and parcel of popular drama series, especially when writers are attempting to flesh out various cast members. Even epic sagas, like “A Song of Ice and Fire” that seem to be showing just about everyone through the serialized mammoth novels and the massively popular and critically acclaimed television show, “Game of Thrones” how to work a long-running story in a dense, complex and yet never boring way, has incurred some criticism for making the odd sub-plot divergence that amounts to little. When we made it the rather disappointing conclusion of the popular serial killer series, “Dexter”, did all the minor relationship dramas involving various members of the supporting cast in different seasons really feel they were a part of how the whole story concluded?

So, I would argue that “The String of Pearls” should not be viewed as a novel. It lives as a series of instalments and should not be read in one or a small number of sittings but over a lengthier period of time, as it was intended. This will probably help bring out the genuine flavour the material. The reader should embrace the twisting diversions of adventure as part of its charm rather than as an annoying distraction or a cynical attempt to pad the whole serial out. The narrative foreshadows the sort of excited conversational style that became a hallmark of serial radio and television shows. Our narrator is constantly leading us and often casting judgement over certain characters, bemoaning the wretched, championing the brave and condemning the evil. It provides a 1840s perspective on the London in the previous century and with the benefit of hindsight we can see what direction popular opinion was headed. Georgian London is seen as an oppressive rat’s nest of tyrants that crush the penniless young and thinly veil the criminal masses that squabble over property. Bullying seems to be a part of nearly every institution; the workplace, the medical institutions and the home.

The characters are two-dimensional and fairly standard 19^thcentury archetypes. Having said that, most the story’s heroism is delivered by a female lead part, Johanna Oakley, which is noteworthy. Oakley drives the story when she initially suspects that Sweeney Todd has something to do with the disappearance of Lieutenant Thornhill, who discover in the first episode has been disposed of by Todd. Thornhill had been charged with delivering a string of pearls to Oakley when it was thought that her beloved, Mark Ingestrie, has been lost at sea. Oakley is shown to be brave, tenacious, loyal and intelligent in her endeavours throughout the story. The story’s main antagonist is the distilled evil that audiences enjoyed long before writers took a more sympathetic turn with his character. It is a shame not to read him in the way that originally caught everyone’s attention. He portrayed as an exceptionally tall and spindly character with huge hands, and a massive mop of hair. His laugh is blood-curdling and he is incredibly strong. He is amoral to the very core, savagely cunning, driven by avarice and self-centred in the extreme.

This edition of the story is presented in a complete format. There were many later editions, following the original penny dreadful including several re-writes, which Robert L. Mack tells us are inferior works. The introduction, chronology and endnotes are all very detailed and entertaining. Mack provides less of a literary insight into the story and more an historical and cultural review.

“The String of Pearls” was, by no means, a totally original piece. Urban legends about dodgy meat pies were present in Dickens’s work and other serials prior to this one. Looking at the time-frame of when it was written makes for eerie thinking. The following century life somewhat imitated art when the Hanover serial killer, Fritz Haarman, would claim that part of the way he disposed of his victims was by selling their meat on the black market, much of which made its way into pies! “The String of Pearls” was written not 20 years after the mass killings of the Edinburgh murderers, Burke and Hare, and just under 40 years later Jack the Ripper would terrorize London. The story sits in the middle of a century that would spawn the nightmares of the succeeding century and beyond.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Scan of plate in book on Joan of Arc, described as "Joan's Vision" (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Icons are not as easy to fathom as we might like. Too many of them have become enshrined in a country's sense of identity and then crossed over as s pure symbol for a philosophy or political ideal. Finally, they make their way into a universal representation of something that dares defiance. Joan of Arc is a prime example. I struggle to find something that properly grounds the person and separates the myth. The below book wasn't the answer.

I came to this book purely by chance. It wasn’t reviewed or recommended to me. I have a rather omnivorous taste in most things and history is no exception. However, if there is an area that attracts my attention more than most it is the dissection and deconstruction of historical icons. I love myths and legends, and part of the process of appreciating a fictionalized story is distilling the actual facts. It seems like a bizarre motivation and against the normal persuasions of a romanticist, but I have never claimed to be a straightforward personality. When one considers that I have a keen interest in endorsing critical thinking, it all makes a bit more sense. Nevertheless, “Beyond the Myth: The Story of Joan of Arc” has never made any sceptical reading list I have seen. I chose it because I wanted to read a compact and comprehensive description of Joan’s life and the title perked the interests I have already mentioned.

Polly Schoyer Brook’s book delivers pretty much what I wanted. It is told in an exciting style, not that far from an historical novel. It is also easy to read. A little too easy, I thought as I approached the middle of the book. I had neglected to read that the book had been written for a young adult audience. This made a lot more sense. Brook does engage critical thinking and tries to ground a lot of the saintly mythology that has grown up around Joan’s legend since her demise. However, if I was after a thorough and scholarly dissection of Joan’s life then I should have waited for Helen Castor’s book that came out almost a year after I bought “Beyond the Myth”. This is the book that strips back the accepted view and juxtaposes it with the general attitude towards religion interwoven with politics. “Beyond the Myth” is not remiss in providing a contextual view, but the narrative just repeats the well-known story albeit from a rational perspective and does tend to aid the canonization process in most people’s minds.

Helen Castor argues in the epilogue to her book that “in gaining a saint … we have lost a human being”, which I often feel is the problem when we refuse to properly examine our icons. The problem with “Beyond Myth” is that it goes along the familiar path of questioning Joan’s sanity as a reason behind her hearing voices. By contrast, Castor’s book explains how a person claiming they are hearing voices from saints could be a strong political weapon. Brook stands back from to look at the whole picture, but it is still within the confines of an established view.

In conclusion, “Beyond Myth” is a well-written book that could serve as text book for GCSE or AS level history students. For those who want a concise review of Joan’s life, told in an entertaining fashion, this is the book for them. It is only 176 pages long and is well illustrated with a mixture of colour and black and white images. These are of buildings, places, paintings, etchings and the like. The book lacks detailed discussion or investigation into the story or any of the characters. However, it is very evenly set out and is an ideal starting point. Brook is has a strong voice for narration and those who are usually put off by dry history should find her to be comfortable change of pace.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

I plead a strong degree ignorance in writing this piece. My knowledge of French satire or even French journalism is paltry, to say the least. My knowledge of French cartoons is probably largely made up of "Asterix" books and my French satire is all out of date. So, I can only write in my vague and unofficial capactity as a supporter of freedom of speech, an observer or irrational thinking, a lover of humanity, a fan of satire and especially cartoons, a humanist, a secularist and an enemy of injustice. Nevertheless, all of these roles demand that I say something. The events of 7th January 2015 that saw 12 individuals (the editor of the newspaper, eight other employees, including two cartoonists, and two police officers) shot dead plus an additional 11 wounded at the offices of the satirical newspaper, Charlie Hebdo, in Paris, by Islamic extremists in response to the newspaper's regular publication of cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammad prompted me to think about a lot things.

I think it is fair to say that there is universal revulsion and horror at the nature of these attacks. Today I saw a tweet with a link to an article on the crimes of the Nigerian Islamic extremist group known as Boko Haram. The tweeter made the valid point about perspective. The deaths of over 2,000 people are attributed to this group, as well as even more woundings and numerous kidnappings. The group attacks fairly indiscriminately and I agree that all efforts should be made to end their activities. The tweeter posted the link to give us all some perspective. I don't feel we need to diminish or mitigate what happened on 7th January. I have friends and relatives that live all over the world and some of them live in very hostile areas, where murder and violence is an all-too-regular occurrence. I have also trained with and been privileged to teach individuals that worked in places that would stretch anyone's perception of a living nightmare. We don't really need perspective on what happened at the Charlie Hebdo offices. It is right, understandable, defensible and correct that we are shocked and that the French and their nearest neighbours observe a day of mourning for the dead. It is human nature to feel more grief for those closest to them than those far away. If we are going to have some perspective, these events occurred on French soil. The horrendous crimes in Nigeria are occurring in what is described as a "warzone". This does not reduce or make the loss of human life there any less terrible. I wish to make that abundantly clear. However, and I appreciate this might sound grim, it is expected. The thought that a crime of this magnitude can occur in a place like Paris throws a lot of assumptions in the air and leads us to question a lot of things. Likewise, you would be right to be more shocked by a massacre occurring in Scotsdale, Arizona than you would be by one occurring in Atlanta, Georgia. This is why the world was justifiably horrified by 2011 attacks in the normally very peaceful country of Norway.

My other concern is the way that violent crimes, such as these, get reported. This is a concern that runs across all journalism. There is no sense of collective responsibility in journalism. We know crimes committed like this have more than a single motivation and one of these motivations is exposure. I am always disgusted with the sensationalist fashion paper run these reports. It doesn't matter that they are condemning the perpetrators, the people who commit these atrocities are fully aware they will get this type of condemnation. By all means publish the cartoons or ones like them. Express sadness for the victims of the crime and celebrate their lives. Certainly discuss the nature of the crimes so that we might look towards better preventative measures in all areas. However, demonizing the attackers is just playing into their hands. Putting huge photos of individuals being shot on the front covers of newspapers shows no sensitivity or sympathy to the families of these individuals. We spend way too long debating art and fictional violence in the form films and video games, but seem to have little issue in projecting images of real violence before the eyes of our children. Killers like those who committed these crimes are not demons or beasts or monsters. These terms elevate them to mythical levels. They separate them from the rest of the human race, which might be comforting to many who don't like the reality that they share the same species definition as these people, but it serves little good in dealing with the problem. Such sensationalizing emboldens the extremists and glory hunters in these circles. Such loud condemnation helps justify their crimes in their eyes as the infidel screams out in response.

I am against censorship, including self-censorship, as rule, and I am certainly in favour of freedom of information. However, this journalistic war where one tabloid will publish photographs of interpersonal violence in order not to be outdone by its rival is a sad state of affairs. Photographs should be freely accessible and in the public domain, but not readily promoted. A collective responsibility by journalists could lead to a playing down of the stance held by zealous, murdering idiots. The same goes for other types of political or recreational murderers, rapists and paedophiles. They've all stepped off the bottom rung of the social order and should be treated as such.

The events of 7th January have further prompted more fears regarding the tightening of security in the UK and other countries. Last year I witnessed an all round stepping up of response units to terrorism. It impacts at every level. More public spending has gone into arming more police officers. This generation faces a lifetime of dealing with terrorism of some sort another on our home ground. However, we face paradoxes and unconsidered consequences. Less civil freedoms in order to fight those who would take all our freedom? The liberalism of the UK alone has allowed the growth of the conservative Muslims in Europe. These are not easy issues to tackle and I despair every time I hear simplistic solutions to them.

To finish my ramble, the Charlie Hebdo Massacre was a truly barbaric, cowardly and pathetic demonstration of what a human beings are capable of doing to other human beings by the moral standards of most people. Barbaric because it was straightforward murder. Cowardly because the vast majority of the targets were unarmed and had no intention of engaging the gunmen in any form of physical warfare. Pathetic because, as sensible and decent Muslim scholars have said in response to the attack, the Qu'ran and the history of Muhammad shows stoic tolerance of criticism and ridicule. If your personal interpretation of a belief system cannot stand criticism or satire it is an exceptionally weak ideal.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Last night saw the first episode of “Wolf Hall”. This historical drama made authenticity part of its marketing and a lot of historians were involved in the process to bring Hilary Mantel’s two novels, “Wolf Hall” and “Bringing up the Bodies” to the small screen. When it comes to period fiction, the Tudors have received the lions share, especially during the reigns of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I. However, Hilary Mantel’s work definitely qualifies as an original take on the era in many respects. She chooses to view her tale through the eyes of an individual who is nearly always depicted as a Machiavellian villain: Sir Thomas Cromwell. However, don’t expect a sneering Francis Urquhart type politician who wins his audience over by revelling in his cunning and cleverness. Mantel’s Cromwell is a truly sympathetic character. By taking this highly unconventional tactic, we are provided with a genuinely different perspective on the Tudor court, its various characters and the politics of Henry VIII. The term “game-changer” has become a buzzword in the promotion of this current golden age of drama, often attributed to US series like “True Detectives”, however, with this interpretation of Tudor life I believe it could be applied with confidence.

The first episode began, in typically melodramatic fashion, with a written explanation of what has happened. As a review in “The Guardian” pointed out, this sort of thing is completely out of sync with Hilary Mantel’s style of storytelling. I have yet to read “Wolf Hall” or “Bringing up the Bodies”, but almost feel like I had before I began watching the new BBC2 series. Readers of Mantel’s work will tell you that this sort of simplistic approach is in direct opposition to the way “Wolf Hall” and its sequel work in their narrative. Besides taking a totally fresh view on Cromwell, which has been readily taken up by historian Tracy Borman in her biography of the man, “Thomas Cromwell: The Untold Story of Henry VIII's Most Faithful Servant”, what appeals to a lot of Mantel’s fans is the way he totally engrosses the bewildered reader. You earn your knowledge of the events that surround the main characters, bit by bit, in a naturalistic fashion as the story progresses. But, as the same review states, TV does not afford us that luxury. For the scope of the storyline, Peter Kosminsky does well to use the devices at his disposal, such as flashbacks and the aforementioned title cards.

Nevertheless, what I noticed was that such devices might have softened and helped ease in the viewer, but this was no mainstream sell-out. True to the word of its publicity, “Wolf Hall” is a universe apart from sex, violence and fast-paced action of “The Tudors”. Suffice to say it is in a totally different league when it comes to its historical authenticity. Again, a big part of its marketing was the meticulous nature of its research and how heavily consulted historians have been throughout its development.

Unfortunately because of its hard emphasis in this direction, any slight anachronisms or outright historical faux pas are immediately highlighted. Besides the first episode featuring a building that was built during Elizabeth’s reign, historians really had to scrape around for a criticism. Their biggest find? Jane Seymour wasn’t as attractive as Kate Phillips who plays her in the series. Before we get into the rather silly argument about what is and what is not attractive, which The Mail Online embarrassingly does in its report, this is all based purely on what we see in an oil painting.

Meticulous work has gone into trying to create clothes, furnishings and various other physical things in the drama authentic. Hilary Mantel famously insisted on the cast having white teeth due to the lack of sugar at the time. However, I think it is pretty absurd to think that any of the actors should be cast due to how much they physically resembled the characters they are portraying. There are certain things that artists should feel assured that their audience will happily accept without thought and one them is the exact replication of an historical characters’ physical features. If we are to really go along these tedious of pedantry, then none of the cast are exact matches for their respective oil paintings. As Peter Kosminsky rightly said to historian Lucy Worsley when she challenged him on his choice of actress, “I picked her because of her acting, not because of her forehead”.

However, few can really find fault with the remarkable cast if we are going by the first episode. Jonathan Price is as reliable as ever as Cardinal Wolsey. Again, Wolsey, is often portrayed as a pompous and ambitious man, one of the villains in the Tudor story, but not this time. As Cromwell’s employer, we see a man who is jaded and clever, keen to hold onto his power, but religiously tolerant and loyal to his king. The relationship between the two men is more believable than the general plot that sees them both battling to win the king’s favour. Cromwell, as portrayed by Mark Rylance, is a fellow survivor at Wolsey’s side. As the cardinal fails to convince the pope that Henry VIII’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon needs to be annulled, signalling his downfall, we can see Cromwell learning from his master’s mistakes whilst doing his best to protect him. Again, a lot of that made sense with Cromwell always being the wily politician with a background as a successful and shrewd lawyer – a point even his critics would not contend – understood that Wolsey’s existence power gave protection to his fellow Protestants.

Mark Gatiss never seems to be out of work. Again, he’s a versatile and talented actor, and he has proven his worth as a creative with a variety of very entertaining and critically acclaimed projects. His place here as Cromwell’s superior, the snobbish Stephen Gardiner, helps reinforce the underlying issue regarding the enmity many felt against Wolsey and Cromwell’s lowly beginnings. It is an issue that stacks up the argument for Mantel and Borman make to view the man in a more sympathetic light.

Since "The Other Boleyn Girl" novel got everyone's attention, I guess there is little surprise that the script ensures that Mary Boleyn is mentioned as Henry VIII's first love interest out of the two sisters. The role of the Boleyn family, of course, shows as being a key part of the opposition that meets Wolsey as he tries to appease his king, who starkly defends in private despite being in his displeasure, and reconcile his faith, the Catholic Church. Jane Boleyn even features in the cast. Anne Boleyn, often portrayed as a victim, has had a re-vamp in recent years as a far more feisty and forthright character. Audiences are ready for the cocksure and dislikeable characterization put over in Claire Foy's portrayal. However, are we really ready for an arrogant and scheming Sir Thomas Moore? "A Man for All Seasons" has had a lasting impact on our literary depiction of the Tudor court and seeing Moore as the opportunistic politician that warrants the episodes only expletive uttered by Cromwell is a definite shock to the system. However, I was sold on the drama and his one scene, sat at a crowded dining table appropriately at the opposite head of the table to Cromwell is perhaps the second-best scene.

The first best scene goes to Cromwell's meeting with Henry VIII, played by Damian Lewis who almost steals the show. Never before have a seen Henry portrayed in such a convincing way. He's not without humour or intelligence. He's a very believable bully with an overbearing athletic/soldier like bearing that sees him tower in his scene with Cromwell, who impresses him with his courage and articulation.

The first episode set the cornerstones in place for the rise and falls that will follow. However, if you are expecting a “Boardwalk Empire” type of half-guessing of the fates of certain characters you can forget it. This is an entirely different beast. Like a play of its era, “Wolf Hall” is confident enough in its content to worry about holding back outcomes. Although there is no forecast of Cromwell’s eventual fate on show, Wolsey gets a veritable countdown on the screen with reminders of how many days before his “fall” (a suitably religious term).

The series is well-scripted and unfolds at a suitable pace. I see it has impressed the critics, but I am dubious about it really sustaining a mainstream audience. The programme is dialogue heavy. There is one scene of brutal violence - a flashback of Cromwell being beaten by his blacksmith father - which is repeated, but there isn't even any sexual tension let alone the explicit scenes we have become accustomed to in other adult period dramas. I really hope that the drama, which has been crafted well through the stage version, will draw enough audiences and be further proof that drama is evolving in the right direction on television.

My piece on Thomas Cromwell.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

I am going to come straight with you on this one. When it comes to leading lights in vaccinations, most of my historical knowledge ends with perhaps the man we could call the Godfather of Vaccinations, Edward Jenner. Jenner, of course, invented the vaccination for smallpox and started a revolution in medical science. As with an appreciation of the role bacteria play, vaccinating distinguishes itself to the majority of medical treatments in its proactive nature. It puts into the practice the principle that prevention is always better than the cure. By administering a controlled dosage of a disease - in Jenner's case cowpox - an individual's immune system can be activated and thus prevented from contracting a debilitating or potentially fatal disease - in Jenner's case small pox. A continued campaign of vaccinations can completely drive out a disease in a country, as it has done with many deadly diseases we all feared on a relatively short time ago.

Today the world's most powerful search engine, Google, has chosen to honour Jonas Salk with a celebration of his birthday. I for one am grateful for a larger appreciation of this man. It not only serves to get individuals like to me look at more pioneering vaccinationists, but hopefully it will serve to better educate people on the importance of vaccinating. Sadly in this enlightened age we still have to fight a type of ignorance that is comparable to many who were initially sceptical about vaccinations when the concept was new. Conspiracy theorists, the odd fringe scientist, the paranoid, irresponsible politicians and misinformed parents have contributed to slowing down the vaccination process and even reversing it to some degree. I caught measles when I was very young and was lucky to get over it, but I wish my parents' concerns over the period I suffered from the disease could have been allayed by a simple vaccination procedure. 20 years ago vaccination had almost won the battle in the UK in ridding our country of this disease, but there is direct correlation with the rise in anti-vaccinating that has led to deaths from this disease again.

1802 caricature of Jenner vaccinating patients who feared it would make them sprout cowlike appendages. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Photo of newspaper headlines about polio vaccine tests (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Salk's place in history is a very important one. It is difficult for the current generation of people to appreciate what life was like when polio was a genuine threat in the developed world. I have met people who weren't vaccinated in time and have had to live their lives with the paralysis that polio can bring on. Poliomyelitis was one of the most dreaded diseases to attack infants in the developed world. Although 90% of polio infections cause no symptoms at all, a range of symptoms can be exhibited if the disease enters the bloodstream, particularly if it enters the central nervous system. This can lead to diseases such as spinal polio that can leave a patient with asymmetrical paralysis, usually affecting the legs. Knowledge of how the disease was spread led to better education and schemes to improve sanitation, and there was a determined race to create a polio vaccine. When this was developed in the 1950s by Salk the number of global cases of polio was drastically reduced. His efforts have continued to push for the total eradication of the disease, mainly spearheaded by organizations like Rotary International, the World Health Organization, and UNICEF. However, the disease is still a threat to many children in the world, including new cases occurring in Syria in 2013 and recent outbreaks in Africa and Asia. Another good reason to celebrate the life and efforts of Salk is to draw attention to the fact polio has not been totally eradicated.

I note that amongst the various links that are battling for priority place on Google's search is this interesting post on "The Real Reason Why Salk Refused to Patent the Polio Vaccine". Salk is quite rightfully praised for his immense contribution to world medicine and the subsequent saving of lives of countless numbers of people. He is also further lauded for his refusal to not patent his vaccine, which appears to be one in the eye for "Big Pharma". However, the article brings into question the morality of the vaccinatist's statement, "There is no patent. Can you patent the sun?" The article explains that Salk was not in a position to patent the polio vaccine and therefore his comment did not carry the altruistic connotations that won him the hearts of so many.

Photo of Albert Sabin from Its First Fifty Years, by Theodore E. Woodward, M.D. of the United States Armed Forces Epidemiological Board. http://history.amedd.army.mil/booksdocs/itsfirst50yrs/sec1-3pic02.jpg The original uploader cropped out the massive in-photo caption. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In truth, there were many people involved with development of a polio vaccine and it is often the case in such matters that we have a lot of unsung heroes. One of these heroes, Angela Matysiak has argued, was Albert Sabin. She makes this argument in her 2005 dual critique of Jeffrey Kluger's "Splendid Solution: Jonas Salk and the Conquest of Polio" and David M. Oshinsky's "Polio: An American Story". Both books were launched to correspond with the anniversary of the day that the US Public Health Service licensed Salk's vaccine. Matysiak conceded that Salk's three injections and a booster slowed down instances in middle class Americans. However, she puts it that Sabin's oral cure, licensed in 1962, is really responsible for the cost effective and efficient way that polio was properly brought under control in the US. I have Mr Sabin to thank for the somewhat yucky sugar cube I had to devour as a child.

These are relevant pieces of information and I am keen to keep history accurate. As is the case with just about any important figure in history they are going to lionized or vilified because that is human nature. History has sought to raise Salk's status to that of a hero, which is still a fair comment in spite of these apparent criticisms. His research and development of a polio vaccine deserves recognition. The continued fight against this dreadful disease worldwide, in Salk's name, is a worthy cause. Whether his decision not to patent the vaccine was a further act of extreme altruism or not his decision to make does not diminish the undeniable good he did in developing the vaccine the first place. Likewise, the fact that Sabin's huge contribution does get the recognition it deserves is no slight on Salk's breakthrough in the previous decade. This is a day to highlight the huge debt we and past and future generations owe to medical science, and to celebrate the good that a pioneering individual can make to the rest of the world.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

The Blooded Lens Filter

Distorting Horror Fiction through Cinema (Part 2)

Back to a bit of self-indulgence and my list of fictional horror icons and archetypes that have been changed so much by celluloid that the popular perception of them little resembles their pre-film state. As always, spoilers ahead for the respective works being referenced. If you haven't read/seen "Psycho" and are unaware of the famous twist I urge that you do before reading my piece on Norman Bates.

Norman Bates

Anthony Perkins portrayal of Norman Bates has established how we see everyone's favourite murdering Dissociative Mental Disorder patient. If Freud ever had a nightmare he couldn't have done a lot worse than Norman Bates. The whole composite of the psychology that drives this character are made up favourite themes in the now largely debunked field of Freudian psychoanalysis. Bates has multiple personalties - three to be exact - and these are driven by a variation of the Oedipus Complex. Bates represses the traumas in his life and they manifest themselves most dramatically in his own murderous version of his overbearing mother who he had killed, along with her lover, in a fit of jealous rage. The character of Bates and several other famous fictional killers were inspired by the real-life convicted murderer and body-snatcher, Ed Gein. Gein used the bodies he mainly dug from graves to make all sorts of paraphernalia, including using the tanned skins to wear as clothes. Bates and Gein several characteristics - taxidermy and a warped attachment to a long-dead overbearing mother. However, they were really very different personalities. Gein's taxidermy seems to have been completely driven in the direction of using human corpses whereas Bates's interest in taxidermy is focused entirely on the legitimate stuffing and preserving of birds. Gein was diagnosed as a "sexual psychopath" not long after his arrest and later confirmed, more accurately as a schizophrenic. Bates's condition, as we have described earlier, would have been classified as something quite different.

Robert Bloch's 1959 creation is described as middle-aged, overweight and is probably an alcoholic. He presents a very pathetic and pitiful, if clearly unhinged, figure to Mary Crane in the novel. After eating a small dinner with him, she sees his grotesque image and situation as representative of what can happen to a human being, and it inspires her to return the money she stole towards the beginning of the novel. Bloch's description of his lead antagonist might have not physically resembled Gein, but his manner and look tends resemble the look of many recreational criminals. Many serial killers and sexual criminals are unkempt and unattractive loners. By comparison, Perkins was an up-and-coming actor in the mould of James Dean, Rock Hudson and other '50s stars. He was handsome, lean and even had a good voice, having released a successful pop single prior to auditioning for "Psycho". When Alfred Hitchcock saw him, he could see how Perkins could make the character more sympathetic. Perkins had a boyish vulnerability about him and he played it up excellently by using his superb acting skills. Having already garnered nominations and awards for his acting both on film and stage, he plunged into this new interpretation of Bates, part created by Hitchcock and new screenplay writer, Joseph Stefano, and made him the enduring image we know over half a decade later. The image they created is so powerful that I could only find one image that resembles Bloch's original character and that came from a website dedicated to creating mock police drawings of fictional criminals as they are described in the books.

Perkins, of course, is not the only person to play Norman Bates and the franchise has lived on since his death. Nevertheless, all caricatures drawn of Bates resemble Perkins and the actors who have the played role since Perkins have clearly been cast with the 1960 cinematic portrayal in mind. Vince Vaughan, like the vast majority of the atrocious 1998 remake, is completely modelled on the 1960s depiction. Amidst the very few new elements Gus Van Sant brought to the remake, was Norman Bates's interest in pornography. In Bloch's novel, Bates reads a lot on pornography, including the works of the Marquis De Sade and works on the occult. The real Ed Gein had a strong preoccupation with reading books on anatomy. However, the nervous and shy speech pattern, the slim figure, the politeness and kindliness that only changes when issues relating his mother start arising are all the Perkins/Hitchcock model as opposed to Bloch's character and this is all present in Vaughan's portrayal. Perkins also brought in a bird-like quality to the role that gave Bates an eeriness that Vaughan failed to recreate. Nevertheless, the peering and wide-eyed Norman Bates is all Anthony Perkins and, again, what regularly crops up in the popular imagining of the character.

This can even be seen in the TV series, "Bates Motel", which acts a modernized prequel. The series takes the greatest liberties with the "Psycho" mythology to the point where one is to assume that the entire "Psycho" story - Bloch or Stefano/Hitchcock version - is being re-imagined or "re-booted" as is the regular phrase these days. Bates back-story now involves more violent deaths, murders and the involvement of organized crime. He has an older brother, who is the result of his mother being raped by his uncle, and Norman, for all the shyness and problems around women, doesn't seem to have any trouble in getting girlfriends. Despite such vast divergences and complete reappraisal and rewriting of the whole "Psycho" mythology, Freddie Highmore's version of a teenage Norman Bates is clearly modelled on Anthony Perkins. Robert Bloch may have created Norman Bates, but one year after he first appeared in written form, Hitchcock's casting decision set the "Psycho" blueprint for well over half a century.

Zombies

The zombie has its name and origins in Haitian folklore.The reanimated corpses were the work of an evil sorcerer known as a bokor. Once under the spell the zombie would be the personal slave of the bokor. They are most commonly put to work on the land or doing performing various manual labour jobs. Origins of the zombie are unclear and hypothesis on drugs that may cause zombie characteristics have little support. It has been postulated that the tradition extends back to Central Africa, where there are similar legends. There is also the belief in an astral zombie, which is a soul captured by a bokor and often contained in some form of vessel. Possession of the soul supposedly grants the bokor or a customer who purchases the soul mystical power or good luck. This is really where the myth of the zombie starts and finishes. The name was hijacked via the movie industry in the 1970s and now the term is now applied in popular culture and fiction to a somewhat different type of reanimated dead person.

The zombie history fiction is not nearly as clean-cut as other horror archetypes. It could be argued that the Monster in Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" is the first example of the modern science fiction zombie that George A. Romero and John Russo would popularize. However, the Monster really doesn't tick a lot of the boxes one associates with being a zombie - both in the traditional form and in the post-1960s form. He isn't a mindless brute for starters. The epic poem, "Gilgamesh", from ancient Mesopotamia (circa 2100 BCE) is regularly cited as the first example of zombie-like creatures. The goddess Ishtar declares:

"I will knock down the Gates of the Netherworld,
I will smash the door posts, and leave the doors flat down,
and will let the dead go up to eat the living!
And the dead will outnumber the living!"

Interestingly this example has more in common with the modern zombie form than the original zombie of folklore. The Haitian zombie is not typically depicted as the ravenous human-eating creatures we commonly think of in today's horror media. However, this changed when H.P. Lovecraft decided to write a parody of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in the 1921 serialized short story, "Herbert West-Reanimator". The reanimated corpses in this story become rampaging, bestial killers who devour their human prey. It's a strong argument that this would carry the blueprint for the popular image of the zombie today. However, it would take four decades before such an idea would materialize. The Haitian zombie would take to the screen first.

Despite short obscure references to the word in some late 18th century English and French literature, it wasn't until 1929 that we see W.B. Seabrook popularize the term "zombi". His sensationalized account of his travels to Haiti in his book "The Magic Island" inspired the 1932 film, "White Zombie". This is the first bonafide zombie movie and it would link the religion of Voodoo with the practice of zombie reanimation. It would be an idea that would find its way back into fictional literature. Notably by such occult novelists as Dennis Wheatley. "White Zombie" gave us the blank eyed slave who worked, as if in a trance-like sleepwalking state. It would become a mainstay of even the science fiction type of zombie-like creatures of 1950s B movies, where corpses might be reanimated as slaves by mad scientists or extra terrestrials.

The awkward, slumbering version that dragged its legs and moaned came directly from George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead". Like Lovecraft before him, Romero hadn't really considered the Haitian legend of the zombie as an influence. The look of his living dead were clearly inspired by horror comics that featured decaying undead monsters and obviously we cannot discount Lovecraft's influence here. The 1968 low budget classic took over from "White Zombie" in moulding our popular imagining of the living dead creature. The film is credited with being the single source for the modern and prevailing view of the zombie in horror fiction. The last notable example of the Haitian slave zombies prior to Romero's film was Hammer Films "Plague of Zombies". After "Night of the Living Dead" an unending slew of imitations overwhelmed the genre.

Romero removed the magical reason for his zombie origin. Rather than rationalizing modern zombie fiction for the nuclear age, Romero did not initially give a reason for why people started returning from the dead to feed on the living. It could be argued that Romero invented the notion of a zombie apocalypse with everyone who dies with their brain intact returning to be a flesh-eating zombie. However, one might argue that "Gilgamesh" hinted at this and there are works in ancient scripture that describe the dead suddenly rising up. He did not necessarily invent the concept of the masterless zombie if we consider that these ancient works do not specify whether the living dead will be under the command of the respective deities who ordered their return. However, what seems to set Romero's origin aside from others is that the reanimation of the corpses does not come from spell or direct experiments of a single being. His zombies are not created by a deity or a scientist. Later on Romero's characters in his franchise would speculate, a la 1950s B movies and 1960s Marvel comics, that the cause of the zombie apocalypse was the result of radiation fall out, possibly from a nuclear attack. It would take other modern zombie films to develop more concrete explanations for why the zombies first came into being, which was often the result of an accident.

1981's much maligned "Horror of the Living Dead" established mutating gas as a root cause. The film might now be relegated to the "so-bad-its-good" of low budget horrors, but the film's zombie origin idea was good enough for the critically acclaimed horror comedy "Return of the Living Dead" to use as the basis for their zombie origins. This film was based on a novel of the same name by John A. Russo who was the co-creator of "Night of the Living Dead". When the two parted company Russo was supposedly granted permission to use "Living Dead" in his future works whereas Romero would be free to make direct sequels to the first film.

Romero added an element that had been the domain of the vampire by allowing his creations to infect others by biting them and turning them into living dead killers. He also introduced the notion of a zombie apocalypse. It could be argued that "Gilgamesh" hinted at this and there are references in works of ancient scripture about the suddenly dead rising up, but although Romero keeps the root cause of his zombie apocalypse a mystery, the implication is that it is man-made or science-based rather than anything to do with magic or god-like intervention. Romero also used his films to make strong political commentary on society, but one might say that the slave-zombie of Haitian tradition was partly born out of a view on the black slave trade. Similarly Romero might have popularized the masterless zombie, with Hammer Films'"Plague of Zombies" being the last notable Haitian zombie film prior to the release of "Night of the Living Dead", but we know Lovecraft was already in there. Nevertheless, despite these arguments, the most well-known version of the zombie today can be directly linked to Romero.

Romero didn't start calling his reanimated corpses zombies until he made the sequel, "Dawn of the Dead" in 1978 and by then his imitators across the world were starting to use the term and it would continue gather steam for successive decades and up to the present day. Romero often cited critics as being responsible for labelling his "living dead" monsters, zombies."Dawn of the Dead" bore the name "Zombi" when it was released in Italy and Lucio Fulci released a film the following year entitled "Zombi 2", clearly implying it was a sequel to Romero's film when it wasn't in anyway. However, the film was far more than a forgettable rip-off of an established franchise. The film won praise from horror fans for its make-up and special effects, and completely reignited Fulci's flagging career. Even Romero would follow his lead in "Day of the Dead" by raising the gore factor in accordance with the way Fulci had pushed the envelope with his seminal feature. Released in the UK as "Zombie Flesh-Eaters", the film gained an early reputation as a "video nasty" and used an example during the UK's puritanical censorship campaign in the 1980s and '90s.

Romero established that the removal of the head or destruction of the brain was the only way to kill a zombie. This has remained the prevailing view, leaving disembodied hands and the like to the realm of more supernatural-based films separate from the modern zombie idea, such as "The Evil Dead" trilogy. Notable exceptions to the rule being the aforementioned "Return of the Living Dead" and its sequels, as well as Peter Jackson's horror comedy, "Braindead" and the movie adaptations of Lovecraft's "Re-Animator".

As we can see zombies in popular fiction have diverted from Romero's premise.We have had faster and cleverer zombies. However, the prevailing zombie occurs after a man-made apocalypse, they are consumed with killing and devouring humans, they will infect and turn anyone who they bite into a zombie like them and lumber along at a relatively slow pace. The name is related to the West African words for "nzambi" (god) and "zumbi" (fetish), indicating no connection to Romero's creations and, as we have seen, Romero did not originally apply the name.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

“You could say the same about me… And you probably do”. That cutting end to a sentence uttered by the Sir Thomas Cromwell of the BBC2 adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s “Wolf Hall” was delivered with such poise and timing by Mark Rylance that it felt like I had listened to an ancient proverb. The scene, which saw Cromwell standing away from the Royal Court and being treated like the town gossip by Jane Boleyn, encapsulates the nature of all politics. It is a good lesson: the person whose nature it is to collude with you demonstrates that the traits of a person who is likely to conspire against you.

Rylance reminds me a little of Brian Cox whenever he was given a role that befitted his true talents. This scene was just one example taken from a drama that seems totally uncompromising in the style it wishes to uphold. The drama honours the trajectory of its tradition and it is probably the best of its kind since “I, Claudius”. However, as I feared when I watched the first episode, audiences that are used to seeing period pieces as lavish melodramas are going to be disappointed. As Michael Hogan put it:

Those expecting a sumptuous glorified soap like Downton Abbey seem to have forgotten that it’s airing on BBC Two, not BBC One – a sign that it’s pitched more as a weighty political drama than a mainstream blockbuster. You might as well get annoyed by The Fall because it’s less sunny than Death in Paradise or The Office for not being Mrs Brown’s Boys.
“Hilary Mantel’s novels are hefty grown-up literature and have been faithfully adapted into hefty grown-up TV. Two big, fat Booker Prize winners faithfully translated into six hours of TV. Wolf Hall might not be a crowd-pleaser but it’s still subtly superior fare, graced by great performances and admirable authenticity. It’s demandingly dense but deeply rewarding. As far as I’m concerned, the naysayers should be slung in the Tower to rot.

I don’t like snobbery and I have little issue with “Downton Abbey”, which I generally enjoy. However, Hogan makes a valid point. We are in a new golden age of television drama and a big part of this age is ever more complex characters and detailed storylines. I like seeing matters being pushed in all quarters, especially with shows like “Wolf Hall”. The script shows no desire for historical exposition despite the publicizing of its staunch authenticity. It cares little for titillating us with sex scenes, but never shies away from the sexual politics. The brutality is present – from the young Cromwell’s bloody and merciless beatings from his blacksmith father to the tragic death of his first wife and children to the presence of torture as a tool for justice. However, there is no lingering. They are used to convey a point and little more. My guess is viewership might have dropped even further when we were spared the fall of the axe on Sir Thomas Moore’s defiant neck. This makes the programme less of a spectacle and allows the historical drama to go places it is rarely allowed. The opening titles are enough to place viewer. The rest is up to the cast and direction to get on with the storyline and the essence of the drama. This can only be a good thing for all “genre” shows.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

I came into the "American Horror Story" series late with season 4. For those who do not know, the series was created by Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Each season is a self-contained mini-series of 13 episodes. Just when I had written off the horror genre with only a handful or so films made since 2000 that could be considered classics, this type of work shines through. However, I wonder if this has little to do with horror and more to do with the fact that television is finally surpassing the feature film experience in terms of overall quality. "Freak Show" is an unashamed love letter to Tod Browning's "Freaks" and Herk Harvey's "Carnival of Souls." However, there is more to it than a simple homage. From the wonderfully eerie stop motion opening credits that fuse a twisted view of a child's clockwork world with inspiration drawn from physical anomalies through to its surprisingly heart-warming finale, "Freak Show" gives the impression that it will make no compromises. This is probably a very naive thing for me to say, but I see a production that indulges with genuine affection for its audience. It seems not to fear being surreal, humorous at the same time as being soap operatic with its plot. Sometimes the story stays within the boundaries of realistic horror and at other times, we get supernatural curses and conjoined twins using telepathy. Likewise, the gory special effects shift between painfully realistic depictions of violence to Kill Bill splatterphunk. The horror is post-torture porn in that it steers away from leering extended depictions of horror, only to shock you later. This same technique is used for the deaths of certain cast members, which it does well to generate sympathy for, narrowly have them escape a grisly fate only to do later anyway without losing the shock value.

Stephen King once wrote that the best horror was that which could seamlessly stitch a realistic world with the uncanny. "Freak Show" doesn't quite take this tactic. What it does is create characters that you believe in more than their incredible world. Making it a period piece in the 1950s was a great move. This was the beginning of a transitional time for travelling shows. My family had their most successful years during the 1950s, only really starting to feel the impact of television in the following decade. '50s USA is also perfect for showing the bright, sunny and picture perfect view often presented at this time. The cinematography with its depictions of sunshine and a bright colour palette, made sure we had the backdrop of the '50s that was romanticised in films like "Grease" and "Back to the Future", and the sit-com, "Happy Days". In this respect it echoes the black comedy horror, "Parents", which used the suburban US dream view to contrast with the darkness underneath.

The repertory cast, which features the great Cathy Bates, Jessica Lange and Angella Bassett, are given well-rounded roles and complex relationships. There is a wonderful intermingling of established actors with performance artists. I was also delighted to see Matt Fraser as part of the supporting cast. I was first impressed by Fraser's work when I saw his "Born Freak" documentary and later "Unarmed and Dangerous". The martial arts connection clearly attracted me to his work, but it was also refreshing to see him to be amongst the first of a post-PC generation that questioned the middle-class freak show abuse lie that had been in place in the UK for a good part of a century. The actual freak show in the story is one of the last of its kind, despised by the changing world around them that presents its own superficial views on perfection. It highlights discrimination in an uncommon way, although it doesn't show the patronizing middle-class attitude that ultimately has seen so many disabled people losing work since the days of Joseph Merrick.

"Freakshow" has been timely in its release. At same time we have seen the release of documentary TV series called "The Freak Show" (and referred to by TV presenters as "The Real Freak Show" to differentiate from the "American Horror Story"). Here the real impresario makes the point of reclaiming the "freak" title, employing people born with abnormalities to exploit the curiosity that their appearance cannot fail to draw alongside fakir tricks and feats of skill, such as sword-swallowing. It's quite refreshing to see such unabashed and genuine empowerment happening in a profession that was persecuted under the false premise that certain puritans felt sympathy for the employees. It is about time given the real exploitative television out there. From talent shows to medical documentaries to shows like "The Undateables", TV producers are exploiting people using short-term fame as a currency.

I leave you with another wonderful quirk of this show, the anachronistic covers of great songs performed by different cast members. This worked in several ways for me. Firstly, there is the utter indulgence of almost turning the show into a semi-musical, breaking tone, so as to further unnerve the viewer. Secondly, the demonstration of the sheer performance ability of the actors reminds me of the way of travelling show people, who would have to be multi-skilled if they were to stay in work. Thirdly, the joyful anachronism of the songs that work as a reflection on the storyline and its themes. They are all well chosen. A particular favourite of mine was the cover of Nirvana's "Come As You Are" by Evan Peters who played Jimmy "Lobster Boy" Darling. The song was something of anthem to my generation, the last of the Generation Xers. Having it sung in the 1950s by a disgruntled and troubled youth was pretty spooky for me to, given that I saw 1955's "Rebel Without a Cause" around the same time I got into the "Nevermind" album. The tragic end sequence of that film has always been associated with that song in my head. Jessica Lange's finale episode song with David Bowie's "Heroes" set the tone in a style that bordered on artistic genius.

A good post showing all the songs covered alongside their originals. Click here.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Whilst season 2 of “Broadchurch” is still up for the people’s jury to decide upon its critical merit, I thought I would cast a thought back to the original show. It began as a story where the body of a young boy was found on the beach of the fictional Dorset coastal town, Broadchurch. DS Ellie Miller (Oliver Coleman) returns from holiday to discover that her application for a promotion to the rank of Detective Investigator has been blocked by the employment of DI Alec Hardy (David Tennant). The young boy is the best friend of Miller’s son, creating an even great strain on the whole investigation. As frustration mounts to discover the identity of the child’s killer, the secret backgrounds of various characters are revealed.

You don’t need to scratch too far below the surface of the first season of “Broadchurch” to find the quintessential British murder mystery. The location and framing of the series, which is representative in its title, is reminiscent of the Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple mysteries. The use of small isolated communities as a place to stage a sensationalist crime can be very effective. They act as an effective alternative to big city crime stories that have been popular since the beginning of the crime fiction genre. We now also have global crime dramas with the likes of "The Blacklist". "Fortitude" is a series has been called "Broadchurch on Ice", but it distinctively more violent and even darker in style. At the other end of the scale “Midsomer Murders” have taken such an approach to the point of parody.

The main detectives also exhibit traits that we have come to accept make up fictional British detective stereotypes. DI Hardy is idiosyncratic to the point of being almost autistic in his attitude. However, the narrative conveys these flaws to the point that we can very well believe he actually is a failed detective. Like so many before him, he is also hindered by a physical affliction, but the seriousness of it makes it more a plot point than a gimmick. DS Ellie Miller is no sidekick despite the viewer making this assumption early on. She is as complex and instrumental as Hardy, and is deeply interwoven into the fabric of the Broadchurch setting. The setting is critical to how the show works and its inhabitants are a cast of characters that cannot be detached from the two main leads. An emphasis on character development, their responses to the tragedy and the key role each character plays in the whole story led writer, Chris Chibnail, to break from conventional narrative.

I couldn’t help but see David Lynch’s “Twin Peaks” both in style and content. The most obvious and rather crassly executed comparison can be found in the dream sequences. Serving neither as surrealistic idiosyncrasy or a useful key to a character’s psyche, the dreams are rather superfluous to requirements and thankfully do not riddle the show once the drama gets moving. However, the humming and repetitive synchronizer tunes by Ólafur Arnalds, who greatly inspired Chibnail when he first sat down to write the show are very effective. Arnalds’ music runs through the series with only a few distinctive variations in tune, helping to create a type of mugginess to convey the private hells being experienced by the various characters in the cast.

We are in a time now where violent action scenes are the norm in TV crime dramas. Shows like “The Blacklist”, “True Detectives” and “The Gathering”, although slickly handled in their own distinctive ways, think little of totting up the kill-rate. Characters are slaughtered flippantly in choreographed style. In a refreshing contrast, “Broadchurch” is triumph in minimalism. It focuses entirely upon one tragedy. Although others murders are referenced from a previous case and one death will be the result of the social impact of the initial murder, the focus of the battle is very much an internal one. Similarly there is a feeling reality pervading the narrative, which continues into the second season. The police officers are not shown to be superheroes with elite combat skills but regular human beings. When the action does occur, it is the frenzied, chaotic and clumsy nature that is most common in real life, where the person who initiates is usually successful.

The show has two dual aspects of interest. Firstly, there is the defining murder mystery element. Enhanced by the secrecy surrounding the production, even to the cast and crew, “Broadchurch” keeps most of its viewers guessing until the final episode. However, it doesn’t run out of steam with the big reveal and the momentum of the various characters carries us all into a dramatic aftermath. The aftermath is all part of the second appealing aspect of the show and what sets it apart as a thoroughly original piece of art entertainment. The depth of the various characters that provide credible but surprising twists and turns reveals both the complexities of human relationships and the ill-fitting simplistic responses society offers. The show shines a light on the role of the church and the media in a small community, and what part they play in an ensuing investigation. It doesn’t provide a straightforward opinion on either, although it makes clear contrasts between a small and isolated town like Broadchurch and the world at large. The show is loyal to its characters and they are not mere tools used to convey an idea. Loose ends are left on purpose in the narrative for the next season, but you also get the feeling that they are as part of the artistic process.

Don’t get me wrong, Chibnail is clearly no self-indulgent auteur. The show is crafted in line with the demands of a commercial TV channel, providing dramatic moments prior to each commercial break and always leaving a cliff-hanger. However, the work he puts into the very well casted characters charms the viewer to freely suspend disbelief. I can even forgive him for the superfluous dream sequences. Personal reflections work well, but we don’t need to see M.R. James-esque beach sequences. We see enough the beach in the main real action. What I particularly enjoy about this take on the murder mystery is the way tactics like red herrings are not just dropped. Even when we suspect their real nature, they are allowed to gently drift off to sea to the extent that they leave the viewer with still some doubt. It’s a technique that proves be effective in the next season when they reappear on the horizon during the court case. In this sense Chibnail might be responsible for introducing an entertaining variant on the red herring device, which aligns itself well with the uncertainty we face in daily life.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Beowulf is the best known example of Old English literature. We are told that, much like the works of Shakespeare, the piece stood out against other works of the same era because the creativity in its language. Linguistics and language in general are not my strong points, so I won’t attempt a pretentious analysis, but an excellent edition of the Radio 4 programme “In Our Time” explained that there were numerous phrases and words that were unique to the poem. Suffice to say that I will take the learned expert’s word for this fact for the time being. It made me think about the power of words. (listen to the radio show/podcast here)

I heard the programme not long after reading an interview with John Lydon, which corresponded with the release of his second autobiographical work, “Anger is An Energy”. One of his answers resonated with me when I heard about Beowulf’s linguistic peculiarities. When asked what single law would like to see passed, the man who declared the chaotic virtue of anarchy to a shocked public replied that he would like to see no word banned. He added that he didn’t recognize the existence of swear words. Although some readers might have expected Lydon’s Law to be something more in tune with radical politics, I wasn’t surprised by his answer. Unlike many punk bands of his own era and the various successive generations, the Sex Pistolswere never a political band. Malcolm McLaren always tried to sell the idea that he created Punk Rock and it was all crafted as an art project levelled at the music industry, proving money could be swindled out of the labels by cynical manipulation. Part of that project was aimed to shock and one of the key features of the Sex Pistols notoriety at the time was the band members' willingness to swear gratuitously when being interviewed. The band's first record bore the title "Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols". The word "Bollocks" was challenged as a lewd word and many of the stories that stocked the album blotted out that portion of the title.

However, when policewoman Julie Dawn Storey arrested shop manager Christopher Seale for contravening the 1899 Indecent Advertising Act and the case was also brought against the Virgin record boss, Richard Branson, a rather different state of affairs unravelled. By defending the word "bollock" in public, the witness Professor James Kingsley, a former Anglican priest, scored a point for the correct use of Anglo Saxon English. The word was well over 1,000 years old and had been used in medieval translations of the Bible. It had come to mean testicle, but this was a later derivative after it had come to refer to rounded objects or actual balls and even as a nickname for clergymen from whence it became a slang term for meaning nonsense. The magistrate dismissed all four charges brought somewhat begrudgingly (see the case here). What the whole case might highlight is a common theme I have seen amongst quasi-traditionalists. Often those who preach a puritanical do so with a very warped and edited version of tradition. The more I look at history, the more I see how much we have to blame Victorian ideas. From the establishment of fad diets, commercialised quack medicine, parlour tricks turned spiritual chicanery to sexual repression and group denial.

Billy Connolly laid out a good case for swearing. A regular part of his 1980s stand-up set was his rant against anti-swearers. He was right that there is no English equivalent to telling someone to "fuck off". He is right, "Go away!" does not have the same strength. It does create its own atmosphere, which is why "you never read 'fuck off, he hinted'".

Back to language in general and it is pertinent that Melvyn Bragg should rate Shakespeare's First Folio over the eleven other books he chose for his "12 Books that Changed the World". This was the only work of fiction Bragg included and it comes down to the language content. Shakespeare brought the English back into respectibility, giving it richness and depth. He introduced new words, phrases and expressions that have gone on to form much of the modern language.

Given the power and influence of language, it is small wonder why so many writers have explored it and some of our most celebrated works are love stories to language. Richard Adams gave his rabbits in "Watership Down" not only a religion, but also the lapine language and regular terms are dropped in the conversations throughout the story. J.R.R. Tolkien was particular fan of the older languages of Britain and he used them to base the languages of Middle Earth. Orwell acknowledges the same problem brought forward by the defence in the "Bollocks Case" that there is a real danger in the muting of a language. In "Nineteen Eighty-Four" control is exerted through the disintegration of language, making it harder for people to communicate acts of rebellion or anything that went against the Big Brother or The Party.

Annoyed with a world that seemed to be spewing out acronyms and text-speak, and somewhat inspired by Orwell, I mused over an idea to create novel that would slowly dissolve its language into a tiny and symbolic shorthand. I wondered how far it could go before the words disappeared or it was no long intelligible. Then I was reminded that the like of Byron used a lot of abbreviations in their correspondence, so I thought I would stop being angry. Text-speak appears to be waning now thanks to the way phones have evolved.

However, the over-use and the misuse of language remains a hot topic for many people. Cliches almost have a languge of their own. As the internet permits more of us to feel self-rightous in our respective bubbles, so our communication seems to lack empathy. Rhetoric is one thing, but bundling up a load of trite verbiage to win someone over is something else. I have seen the proverbial olive branch extended in the form a personal message - either via social media or mobile phone text message - containing nothing but a series of cliches. Reading through this insincere display of reconcillation, one cannot help but compare the experience to the way a business is trying to win back a client. There is a chasm of difference between quoting a great work of literature in context in order to convey one's feelings and simply stringing together trite expressions. It comes over as someone going through the motions with little actual feeling for the recipient of the letter.

I have seen similar examples during debates, where the person making what they feel to be an empassioned speech to argue their point end up bombarding their audience with corporate-speak bullshit. Once again, the misuse of language here results in the speaker coming over as insincere. Cliches take the charm and power out of rhetoric.

I have no issue with slang and I believe it has its own poetry. However, my age shows in my dislike of words like "awesome", "random" and "sick". The universe is awesome. The Seven Wonders of the World are awesome. The breadth of the genius of Galileo, Einstein, Shakespeare and Edison is awesome. Someone willing to cover for you in a shop while you take a wee is not awe-inspiring. I appreciate the slang usage might allow for awesome meaning "very impressive", but to stretch the expression to cover for one's reaction to finding the final malteezer in the corner of a bag seems to be somewhat overblown. This quote put forward in this excellent article from "The Writer's Circle" nails the point:

“As humans, we waste the shit out of our words. It’s sad. We use words like 'awesome' and 'wonderful' like they’re candy. It was awesome? Really? It inspired awe? It was wonderful? Are you serious? It was full of wonder? You use the word 'amazing' to describe a goddamn sandwich at Wendy’s. What’s going to happen on your wedding day, or when your first child is born? How will you describe it? You already wasted 'amazing' on a fucking sandwich.”

Regardless of my rant about the misuse and over-use of words and phrases, I appreciate language is dynamic. People like Geoffrey Chaucer and William Shakespeare are praised for the way they altered our language. Why are they so different to someone like Kanye West who is successful in his profession and also coining invented words and creating memes? The answer is they learnt the rules before they broke them. West promotes anti-intellectualism and has gone on record for saying he is proud that he doesn't read books. He finds them pretentious and self-indulgent. Considering the egoism that is inherient in his particular art-form, I cannot help but be deafened by the hypocrisy in that massive generalization of such a huge medium. Books are important. The practice of reading can be a non-passive discipline. Rather than just intaking sounds and images, you have to engage your brain and the time that takes leads you to better process the information.

We should celebrate language. We should do it by not being afraid to use new words we have heard and to use words that accurately describe what we are trying to say. Swearing and slang have a place and should be part of the rich culture of language. However, all of this should be done with thought. Language emerged from our species's unique brain function. It is a crime not to use that function to its full extent.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Please excuse the terrible punning in the title, but it was all that sprung to mind. The "re-discovery" of Josephine Tey's bookin recent times has been met with mixed feelings on my behalf. I say mixed because although the work is very original and interesting, it seemed to disappear for a while. Now, with the huge resurgence of interest in Richard III due to the exhumation of his body under a Leicester carpark and his reburial at Leicester Cathedral with all the pomp he wasn't granted 500 years ago, Tey's book is now popular once again. It's a case of geeky "So now you want to read the book" from me. It defies the conventional and cynical belief that historical retrospective detective novels need to be balanced with physical adventure, best exemplified by the truly awful "Da Vinci Code". However, at the risk of spoiling the novel's conclusion I am not in favour of its conclusion and firmly in the corner of historian, Alison Weir (not to mention Winston Churchill and my old English teacher!) I recommend Weir's excellent primary source examination of the case of the murder of the children, Edward V and Richard Duke of York, which I bought as "The Princes in the Tower" and has since been republished as "Richard III and the Princes in the Tower". Nevertheless, it still stands as a great work of fiction and an exercise in historical research albeit with a faulty premise and foregone conclusion derived from the hero's first impressions taken from a portrait.

I first read the book in a situation that wasn't far off that of the story's hero, although I flatter myself that my backstory was a little more. I was in the midst of studying my A Level in English Literatureand part of my homework was to read "The Daughter of Time". Whilst helping on my parents' private zoo, I was bitten on the hand by a hyena. During the week I spent in hospital, where I underwent two operations, I used the opportunity to read Josephine Tey's book. "Richard III" was our set text and my teacher was an ardent believer in exposing his students to as much surrounding material as possible. We not only saw all of the History Cycle of Shakespeare's plays from "Richard II" up until "Richard III", but studied the Wars of the Roses from a strictly historic point of view and the style of tragedy play that influenced Shakespeare when he wrote "Richard III".

The story begins with Inspector Alan Grant (not to be confused with the excellent real-life comic-book writer) laid up in a hospital bed with a broken leg. His over-active intellect desperately tries to stave off boredom by tracing the geometry of the hospital ceiling. His friend, the actress, Marta Hallard, encourages him to investigate historical mysteries and brings in some portraits of historical figures. Tey's character, much like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, relies on the pseudoscience of physiognomy to determine an individual's character. Despite only being given a painted representation of a person, Grant makes a decision regarding Richard III's character and then sets out to investigate his involvement in the murder of his brother Edward's two children. What follows is an exercise in sifting through history and testing out theories. He is aided primarily by historical researcher, Brent Carridine, but has little trouble discussing the case with his attendees at the hospital, where he tests his various theories.

Despite disagreeing with Tey's conclusion and Grant's confirmation biased approach to the investigation, I admire the idea that the author is trying to propagate. Tey was credited with her no-nonsense approach and her dislike of fakes. To this end, the book's over-riding theme demonstrates how bad history is constructed. She has Grant systematically plough through depictions of Richard III, including children's books, novels and scholarly works. The names of much of the material are false, but offer strong nods to the content of real works. She also cites examples of events in history that were falsified on purpose for political ends, particularly the story of the TonyPandy Riots of 1910. I agree that if a myth is repeated enough, it becomes fact and we should approach it all with a critical mind. Revisionist history, which is what is presented in "The Daughter of Time", has a bad reputation. Nevertheless, we know that all sorts of pseudohistory - from hyperdiffusionism to conspiracy theories - are present in our time. We know how effective propaganda can be to the extent that myths have been created with no solid evidence ever being put forward and even some myths being debunked around the time of their first propagation. Nevertheless, due to various factors, including the love of a good story, has led to some untrue ideas even being taught in history lessons. Hitherto pop history wrongfully asserts that most Roman gladiator bouts were death matches, that "Bloody Countess" Erzabet Bathory bathed in the blood of virgins, William Wallace fought in a kilt, Napoleon Bonaparte was short and Henry V was a saintly, reformed hero, beloved by his men.

The novel rightly stands amongst any respectable list of top 100 or even top 10 mystery novels written. I can understand why The Crime Writers Association would vote it to be the Best Crime Novel of All Time, even if I my enthusiasm for this great work won't extend that far! Like the great Agatha Christie Elizabeth Macintosh, writing under her regular pseudonym of Josesphine Tey, wrote a landmark novel in the genre that has been copied by later great novelists. Today, I don't see it so much as a great example of history, but it easily superior the pseudohistory presented as fact the works of Dan Brown and his imitators. The great virtue of "The Daughter of Time" is that it champions intellecutual adventure for a lay audience. In this respect, it makes no compromises. That might be a surprising comment to make, as the work is clearly part of the Alan Grant franchise. Colin Dexterwould use the same idea (and take a similar risk that paid dividends) with his detective hero, Inspector Morse, in "The Wench is Dead". Like Grant, Morse is laid up in bed and embarks upon an historical murder case that he believes resulted in blame being wrongfully placed. Given the academic nature of the material, it would have been easy for Tey not to have made this an Alan Grant adventure but a weightier piece of experimental fiction. The setting and style of the story is very far removed from any other story in the franchise and could easily have upset fans. Tey might have either been tempted to write something more convoluted, such as Peter Ackroyd's "Hawksmoor", or even self-indulgent. Furthermore, she just might have resisted her artistic urge and written a more conventional mystery adventure for Alan Grant. Instead, she gave her hero the greatest adventure in the series. The work remains a great tribute to Tey, who died a year after its publication.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Whenever a new James Bond film is announced or advertised I tend to fall back on old jokes. The jokes are often aged by me because I repeat them a lot. It's a sign of approaching old age annoyance on my behalf. I make no excuse for the deliberate piece of self-indulgence any more than David Lynch did for making "Firewalk with Me". I have some sympathy for Edmund Blackadder of "Blackadder the Third" when he outlined his desires for life:

“I want to be young and wild, and then I want to be middle-aged and rich, and then I want to be old and annoy people by pretending that I'm deaf. ''

I know how to ruin a joke as good as anyone, but there are definite limits to my evil. I recall once being told by a member of the Millennial Generation that it was important for me to write "lol" or put in smiling or winking face formed out of punctuation marks when I make a controversial statement in case I upset the reader unless I meant to cause offense. When I looked puzzled as to why someone might get the wrong impression from a flippant, facetious or playful remark, the annoyed member of the Millenial Generation told me, as if my social education had stopped in the sand-pit, that "people cannot read sarcasm!" Maybe this is the reason why there are wars. If only our great writers, playwrights, orators and cartoonists had known to place a "lol" or a smiley at the end of one their humourous sentences we could have avoided a lot of bloodshed.

Just to digress a moment, I have and do use "lol" a bit. I don't do it a lot, but I sometimes feel the need to do it for the reasons outlined by my rather annoyed younger friend. I sometimes need to do it in the same way that I might need to speak French to a French-speaking person. That is if I spoke French (which I didn't for the five years I took it at school). For the record, that's me being understanding towards people who use a different textual dialect to me rather than me conceding to cultural change. I can give live with "lol" if it is not excessively used. Lol is okay. However, I don't go with all the other descriptions of actions the person typing a message is apparently carrying out. It seems we are now using stage directions to illustrate our conversations for some reason and it has become socially acceptable. Wtf is okay, only because I find it disproportionately funny that is the same acronym as the World Taekwondo Federation and someone made a funny quip about that on an internet forum about a decade ago. Omg works on an ironic level for me and that will bring us to the nub of my rant. However, that is not before I have something to say about smilies.

I probably use the smilies more. In fact, I know I did and still do. For fear of upsetting those sensitive souls out there I have taken to using so many winking smilies that my textual dialogue is now delivered as if the person saying it has a nervous tick. For the record, I don't use the term "emoticon". Emoticon sounds like a Transformers villain that didn't make the grade. Maybe he was Starscream's counsellor and used to transform into a tub of Ritalin. Now there's a new science fiction opportunity for Tom Cruise!

Anyway, back to the point about irony. Going by what my well-meaning Millenial sociology expert had to tell me, we seem to have spawned an odd cultural mutation that doesn't get the use of irony. To them Bob Newhart's sketch about Abraham Lincoln, where Madison Avenue signs off by suggesting that the president might want to take in a play should be punctuated with a lol. Under their watch I foresee all school editions of J.B. Priestly's play, "An Inspector Calls", having a fleet of Emoticons deployed on Mr Birling's speech, set in 1912, where he declares the unsinkability of the Titanic and the unliklihood of an upcoming war.

Worse than not understanding irony, dramatic or otherwise, is the lack of subtlety. Even a crass joke can be ruined by someone who doesn't find it crass enough. These people exist and they are multiplying I tell you. It brings me back to my shameless, bad and plagerized James Bond joke:

"I hear that the new Bond film is called SPECTRE. I hear they are rebooting the Blofeld and Oddjob characters and combining them to create a new villain... Oddfeld."

When someone then interjects with "No, no. He would probably be called 'Blo-Job' and look around for a high-five it is okay to cry a bit for humanity. There's a special place in Hell for such people...

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

A Review of "Dracula: Prince of Many Faces"

Vlad III, Prince of Walachia, competes with many other historical monarchs in his position as an icon. However, his fame has more to do with a late Victorian supernatural monster that was given his patronym some 421 years after his death than anything he did during his lifetime. That isn't to say the life of Vlad the Impaler had not achieved notoriety prior to Stoker selecting his title, "Dracula", meaning Son of the Dragon, but it is a fair statement to say interest in this figure has increases every time a high profile adaptation of the 1897 novel is released.

I doubt the writers of "Dracula: Prince of Many Faces", Radu R. Florescu and Raymond T. McNally, would have been surprised to see that interest in Vlad would only increase after the publication of their fourth book on the subject in 1989. Their previous works included two on the historical Dracula and one on the fictional Bram Stoker creation. This book, although mainly focused on the life and times of Vlad III, bookends the biography comparing the two Draculas. Therefore, one might assume that the justification for the book is to comprehensively unite their studies and to provide a broad overview of the historical figure of Dracula. In this sense, it delivers what is says in the title and a quarter of a century on from this publication there doesn't seem to be anything in popular historical studies to touch this in terms of content.

In terms of style, the book adopts a third person narrative, which can feel a little pretentious and awkward at times. I appreciate this comes from the fact that material has a personal attachment to both the historians for different reasons and its creation is an outgrowth of the passion for the subject they shared with the 1988 graduates of Boston University, USA, but I would have preferred a little more detatchment once the introduction was out of the way. I felt that the flow was affected and this did have an affect on the way the material was presented. The book seems to go in different directions regarding what Vlad did and didn't do without much in the way of a justification or a solid reason to believe a certain narrative on his life. In a work of non-fiction I like to have reliable and decisive guides. If we are going to explore certain accusations then I like to be told that this is what is going to happen. Although the resulting book is an impartial and authoritative piece on the subject - one of the best I have read - it feels like it is a bit of a tangle at times.

This isn't to say that there isn't plenty of good primary source material on Vlad presented in this book. Unfortunately this is only provided in the annotated bibliography towards the end and not through the use of end-note citations, which would have worked very well in this instance. Having said that, the bibliography is well presented with the authors' remarks on the various sources are helpful.

Offsetting the clunkiness of the main narrative, the book's best pieces appear at its beginning and end. This includes the book's most important chapter, "Beyond the Grave: The Many Faces of Dracula". Here we are provided with the three prevailing opinions of Vlad III. The German version gives us probably the most influential view of the man in the western world, that he was a sadistic tyrant. The Russian version provides us with the view that he was cruel but fair. The Romanian version tells us that he was a national hero. This chapter goes to good lengths in exploring the evidence to support these ideas and the obvious motivations behind each opinion. It also helps to debunk a few myths. One can use it re-visit the previous chapters, but it seems like a bit of struggle to have got that far and not had the material properly set up for this insightful and balanced discussion. It also seems a little late in the book for it then to be further reinforced in the concluding chapter, "Who was the Real Dracula?"

One of the book's strongest points is one that needs more discussion and perhaps in a separate work. This is the concept that Stoker did far more than draw the name and a rough location for his famous vampire from the historical Wallachian prince. There appears to be some compelling arguments put forward in the prologue and final chapter before the conclusion that Stoker researched Vlad's history and the location of "Castle Dracula" very well. The authors of "Dracula: Prince of Many Faces" remark on how impressed they were at Stoker's research into the topography, folklore, geography and even the culinary details of Romania. They explain how they used the novel to follow in Jonathan Harker's footsteps. It is quite remarkable to consider how accurate Stoker had been in his descriptions given that he never visited the country. This research by both authors could have made for an interesting book on its own.

"Dracula: Prince of Many Faces" presents an excellent study on the historical Dracula and it is a great shame it hasn't been more widely read since its publication in 1989. Given the huge upsurge in interest in Vlad III that has occurred since the book came out, it is rather frustrating to still hear the same pulp non-fiction reported as accepted fact in some history books and programmes.

Reflecting on Vlad Tepes

I first heard about the historical Dracula in a documentary called "Vincent Price's Dracula". The idea that such a man actually existed and was celebrated some fascinated me. I then read about him in a sensationalist book, "The World's Most Evil Men", which was part of the "The World's Greatest" series of pulp non-fiction books. There was nothing of the Romanian hero in this chapter with every single piece of German propaganda linked together to best represent him as a ghoulish tyrant with sadistic tendencies, the living embodiment of his vampire namesake. Such a view was not discouraged during the animated movie, "GI Joe: Arise Serpentor! Arise!", where Vlad's tomb is raided by the villainous Cobra organization to contribute DNA towards the creation of their new emperor. Francis Ford Coppola's decision to establish a firm link between the historical Dracula and Bram Stoker's character to form an origin story for his adaptation of the novel in 1992 made information on Vlad even more accessible. Recalling the reference Vincent Price had made to an heroic Vlad III in the documentary I had watched as a child, I started looking out for this other side of Dracula.

In wake of the success of Coppola's film, the fictional Dracula's connection to his historic past became a more regular feature. There were certainly worse films than "Dark Prince: The Legend of Dracula", which did well to show a balanced account of the Dracula character although, a la the Countess Bathory movies, there was clear pressure to dramatize the various myths attached to Vlad's history. The film's worst concession was to have the tale transcend completely from history and into fantasy at its conclusion. However, this is no less than what happened with an entertaining comic strip on Vlad's life that I collected in the mid-90s when Dracula fever was high.

Going by "Dracula: Prince of Many Faces", most of Western Europe and the USA largely buy into the German version of Vlad III's story. There is often a feeling of a slight concession towards the fact that Romanian history still reveres him as a hero, but overall the vision of the real Dracula being a blood-thirsty tyrant lends itself best to Bram Stoker's fictional creation.

When I look at the history of Vlad Tepes I cannot help but see a parallel with Che Guevara. Usually when we look at historic figures, we draw the conclusion that many tyrants were born out of their time. What makes their crimes so horrendous is that they contrast with the values of their era. Put any number of the 20th century despots back to medieval times and they would not be regarded so harshly. However, Che Guevara is seen as a hero. He is a symbol of freedom and just rebellion. A combination of good looks, intelligence, education, charisma and a courageous willingness to directly apply himself to a cause, ending in martyrdom, has assured his iconography. Yet over 200 prisoners of war were tortured and executed on his orders. He may have helped overthrow an oppressive regime, but the leader who replaced the Batista government remained in power for over half a century afterwards only to be replaced by his brother. The cause Che represented, Communism, was responsible for more organized killings and oppression than any other in the 20th century. Vlad, like Che, fought for his people and was beloved by them. He fought against an occupying force and despite once being the friend of the oppressor refused to be his puppet prince. Just as Che's methods in warfare are often justified by his circumstances, the same might be said for Vlad who was facing some truly brutal enemies.

I do not seek to lionize Vlad, but I like to see a more rounded view of any historical figure. That doesn't mean I want any of his successes, strengths or virtues exaggerated, but everything should be weighed in the balance. He was far more than just another blood-thirsty tyrant or a footnote to a Victorian Gothic icon.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Edward I does not enjoy a good reputation in the minds of many historians and most of those who enjoyed the movie, “Braveheart”. It would appear that, unlike many other English kings, he doesn’t enjoy the benefit of a contextual view of his life and times. This might be encouraged by the patriotic and hugely selective view that has made William Wallace become a virtual saint in Scotland. Without putting too blunt an end on the matter, Edward was a winner in imperialistic times and those he beat were his next door neighbours, the Scots, the Welsh and the French. His victory meant oppression and subjection of his neighbours delivered in a way that befitted a conquering king of his time. That does not rest well with the sympathies of a modern English culture that champions temperance, freedom and peaceful negotiation. However, for his time, Edward was considered a great king by his English subjects and yet it was a reputation hard-earned.

Marc Morris’s biography of Edward I was the first written in a long time. He explains in his introduction that he was aware that few mainstream English historians held Edward in high regard from a moral point of view. Edward’s reputation as a tyrant and invader come from actions that are no worse than two of England’s most lionized medieval monarchs, Richard I, who Edward sought emulate on his own crusades, and Henry V, who hero-worshipped Edward’s iron-fist example. Both Richard and Henry have their detractors. Richard goes through rapid periods of reappraisal, from the epitome of courage in the name of the Christian faith that won him the title “The Lionheart” to a treasury-squandering, neglectful King who spent hardly any time in his home country and didn’t even speak its language and then back to a more balanced view. Henry, whose main achievement in his short-reign, was to take half of France, has enjoyed centuries of high praise. However, Ian Mortimer’s excellently researched and reasoned argument in “1415: Henry V’s Year of Glory” casts the king as a merciless, religious zealot even for his own time. It would appear that Edward I has simply been neglected, left to be relegated to the role of arch-nemesis to Scotland’s 1990s tourist attraction, and England is quite content to leave him there whilst mainstream historians fend off Richard III supporters.

Nevertheless, Morris’s book not only aims to re-set the balance of Edward’s moral position in context, but also argues the huge relevance of his rule. This is shown in his subtitle, “The Forging of Britain”. The fact that there have been seven reigning Edwards in England since Edward I and he became an exemplar of a strong rule to many medieval monarchs to follow must count something towards the English ideals. Edward’s name is a significant point addressed by Morris. He was actually the fourth King Edward of England, but the first since the Norman Conquest of 1066. The time between Edward I’s reign and that of Edward the Confessor was so long that it made sense to those who simply wished to distinguish between Edward II, Edward I’s son, and his father. However, the name is still significant. It was idiosyncratic for its time, being Anglo-Saxon in origin, unlike the anglicized French/Norman names of William, Henry, Richard and John that preceded him. Morris explains that this is due to Edward’s father, Henry III’s veneration of Edward the Confessor.

As we all know, Edward would not come to emulate his peaceful namesake. He was also a very different man from his father and the two even briefly opposed one another before Edward supported his father and earned a fearsome reputation in his merciless final battle against the rebellious Simon de Montefort.

If there was any forging going on, much of it was of Edward’s own doing. Morris demonstrates, with one symbolic act taken by Edward in his second and decisive quashing of the Welsh rebellion, the King wished to imply a lineal connection with the great Arthur. Whilst addressing the interment and transportation of the fictitious grave of King Arthur under Edward’s orders, Morris takes his own decisive action. He compels all serious historians to admit what many have remained ambiguous about in their discussions of pre-Anglo-Saxon Britain that there never was a King Arthur. It’s a bold step, but given the sheer lack of reliable contemporary evidence there is of Arthur – even his actual historical placement is a matter of contention – I think Morris has a valid point and, at the very least, the burden of proof needs to be shifted in mainstream history.

Morris’s discussions on Arthur do not take up a lot of room, but provide an interesting insight into Anglo/Welsh ideologies from Edward’s rule onwards. In the first instance, Edward supplants a Christ-like figure from Celtic mythology. Arthur is described as the “once and future king” by many. The prophesy being that he will return from Avalon to save Britain in direst hour. By transferring the bones to England’s seat of power was an act of absorbing the spirit of Arthur into Edward’s persona. Secondly, the main campaigns that defined Edward’s reign saw a brief period where England’s king ruled all of Britain. This “unification” is comparable to one of the distinguishing features of King Arthur’s legend. It is telling that the Arthurian legends became a part of Britain’s national identity and were celebrated as much in England as they were in Wales after Edward’s symbolic action.

Context is a vital tool for the modern historian. It is easy to lose sight of the medieval world by looking at it through modern eyes and assuming a universal set of moral standards. It is easy to look back on England’s continued attacks on the French as a greedy lust of conquest and power during the middle ages. However, one mustn’t forget the strong attachment the Norman kings had to their homeland. Morris’s book reminds us of the odd dual roles a king like Edward had to play in international politics. As far as his own country was concerned, he was the absolute monarch and equal to any other king in the world. However, when it came to governing his troubled homeland in Normandy he was a duke under the King of France. Furthermore, as a Christian king, he was subjugated to the Catholic Church in Rome. All of this had a huge bearing on the way Edward operated. Edward’s reclamation of Normandy seems to be far more about defending England than it was to re-secure the homeland of his forefathers or as part of the aggressive expansionist policy that we associate with his reign. It is important to note that English shores were attacked by the French after they had taken Normandy and such unprovoked actions were a clear indication of what France intended to do after driving the English out of their own country.

The Crusades, which seem like such a total waste of scarce English resources and by far the least successful aspects of Edward’s time on the throne, were a product of their time. The Catholic Church demanded the Holy Land be won back to Christendom and this was a real pressure to any sovereign in Western Europe. To the medieval thinker, fighting in the Crusades was perhaps one of the most important things God’s appointed monarch could do for his country and mankind. On a spiritual level, the threat of actual damnation and the events of Judgement Day were a strong reality. On a political level, no European country wanted to be on the wrong side of the Church. Edward I died some 62 years before the birth of Jan Hus, which gives us an indication of how much he and his subjects would be influenced by the idea of the Pope’s absolute power over their souls.

However, although Morris’s conclusion is that Edward was one of the better medieval monarchs in history and a “great” king by the standards of his people and many generations afterwards, he does not mitigate the other sides of his personality. He was an unruly youth and before he became king had switched political persuasions between the various nobles several times. His good reputation was not built upon a spotless record when he came to power. During his reign he worked hard to remove his “Leopard” title, which implied a sneaky and even treacherous reputation, and came from him leaving ahead of his troops early in his career. In an act that his own father compared to the rebellion of Henry II’s sons, Edward once sided with Simon de Montford.

Nevertheless, Edward did not stay on de Montfort’s side for long and we can see the first signs of the merciless domination that would earn him his fearsome reputation in his final battle with the usurper. It is a battle where Edward instructed his troops to disregard all codes of chivalry and results in a wholesale slaughter, concluding with the savage and humiliating mutilation of Montfort’s corpse. It is often argued throughout the book that all natives of England’s neighbouring countries were regarded by the English to be different grades of barbarian. Edward regarded the Scottish crown to be subordinate to the English one despite this not officially being the case and the Scottish people to have not come on much since the days of Emperor Hadrian’s occupation of Britain. The Welsh were considered beneath them, only being granted a principality status and then even losing that following Edward’s second crushing of their rebellion. The Irish, who Edward never visited, are viewed as even lower with their people less subjected than being corralled away from the occupying English. However, the example he showed in the ultimate putting down of Montford’s men foreshadows his attitude settling matters.

“The Hammer of the Scots” earned his title following Edward I’s political manoeuvrings when Scotland’s line of ascension was threatened by several rival claimants. Originally brought in to play an arbitrational role, Edward took full advantage of the desperate situation and sought to install his own puppet ruler. Matters are not so completely clear-cut that we can cast Edwards as a straightforward villainous expansionist, as this sort of politicking was rife throughout the world at the time, however, it would result in a relentless dispute with the Scots that would long outlast Edward’s lifetime. He may have inflicted massive defeats upon Scotland, but he would never get the same type of result he got with the Welsh and the legacy he left his woefully inept son would see one of Scotland’s greatest victories against the English.

I read the book at a time when Scotland was voting on whether or not it wished to be independent of Westminster. A tight result showed that it did wish to continue to be part of the existing union. I wrote this review some time later just prior to the 2015 General Election, where an overwhelming dominance in Scotland by the Scottish National Party showed that the fight was far from over. We live in age where travel and the internet has presented us with a far larger world than what Edward I knew existed and yet we often get the impression that we all have been brought closer together. However, many recent incidents show just how tribal and divisive human beings continue to be in their inter-dependent activity. Edward I's attempted absorption into the icon of King Arthur was rather apt. Arthur famously united Britain, which was the driving policy behind a lot of Edward's ambitions. Today we can see the reality of this over-simplified view of society.

Morris’s work never feels like a fawning apologist argument for Edward. Just as he goes to pains in explaining why Edward was and should be considered a great king of his day, he does not spare us the atrocities committed on Edward’s orders. One of these was his persecution of Jewish people, leading to a virtual genocide. The clear objective for what Morris tells us was the single largest mass execution of Jews in Britain was completely money orientated.

“A Great and Terrible King: Edward I and the Forging of Britain” is the best historical book I have read since Ian Mortimer’s “1415: Henry V’s Year of Glory”. It sets a balance dictated by facts and reason, and ranks as one of the clearest examples of understanding contextual history.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

A large open field that needed cutting, regular cups of sweet tea, a scythe, a pair of shears, an old radio cassette player and the best company in the world provided the backdrop for my favourite song. I was born in July during Britain’s hottest summer since records began and, for that reason, I was brought up feeling a sense of belonging to the days when the sun shone brightest. I find it easy to see why the sun has constantly evoked a sense of spiritual awe in our species. Hundreds of thousands of years on and science, if anything, has humbled humans even more to the sun. We discovered that, contrary to what we had thought for so long, our planet revolves around the sun, making it the centre of a solar system where we live on one of several planets. Furthermore, it is the most significant source of our world’s energy, making it an all-powerful life-giver contained in a single sphere of omnipotence. Within our own intuitive sense of being the sun seems to symbolize a reliable constant. There is sureness in the sun rise and the sun set, and this is part of the idea taken by one of my all-time favourite songs, “Always the Sun” by The Stranglers.

I don’t have a single favourite song, but if I was made to tick a conventional checklist then this one would score higher than most. Different songs accompany different moods and emotions, and how much we like them is often connected to the way they make us feel. I cannot say I have the biggest selection of positive or happy songs. Even ironic happy songs quickly parody themselves. Many quickly become sources for irritation and yet more immediately betray their insincerity. Due to the sense of well-being sunny days provide, we let way too many songs released in the summer get away with crimes we would slaughter those we associate with other seasons. The overwhelming majority of these songs are upbeat if not in lyrical content then certainly in the jingly radio-friendly way they worm into our ears. I love different songs for different reasons and most of the reasons aren’t because they make me “happy”. However, the consensus seems to be that songs that evoke good memories, provide a sense of comfort and have the bonus of being technically good make it to the top of an individual’s list. At least whenever I listen to Desert Island Disks that appears to be criteria. Favourite songs remind people of happy times and somehow get them through hard times. “Always the Sun” scores on those fronts for me.

I first fell in love with the song in the summer of 1993, some seven years since its release. The 1990s certainly provided me a bounty of great songs and bands, but it was also a time when I discovered the ‘70s. My interest in Nirvana was first drawn by the anarchy symbol displayed by the cheerleaders in the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” music video. This, of course, came from me learning about punk rock. I recorded two nights of documentaries and films on punk rock out of pure curiosity. I became hooked. I wanted to sample as many different bands from this era as possible and quickly became a fan of the Sex Pistols, The Clash and Stiff Little Fingers. Having the benefit of coming to the genre two decades on, I was able to see how the various bands had progressed. I eventually arrived at The Stranglers, who Johnny Rotten had famously called “shorthaired hippies”, and I bought their greatest hits album. The Stranglers have never been my favourite band. They aren’t even my favourite punk band. This isn’t to say I didn’t like most of their tracks. The band certainly had a knack for creating memorable tunes, which more than one successful band have been accused of stealing, and their experimenting in different styles paid off on most occasions. They were also a good live band. However, I don’t find myself feeling the urge to pull out many songs from their hit list beyond obvious choices like “No More Heroes” and “Golden Brown”. However, “Always the Sun” was a different matter.

The late summer of 1993 saw the large field across the road from my mother’s house become overgrown fast. The various weeds that overran the field had become almost waist high, which was unusual given the animals that usually occupied the area. My uncle, who was a landscape gardener, and I decided to tackle this burgeoning jungle. He was armed with the scythe, which seemed to symbolize a senior position, whilst I had had a pair of shears. My uncle was not a blood relative. He joined my grandparents’ travelling circus when he fell in love and married my aunt. He had an amazing booming aristocratic-sounding voice that that could clear a pathway amongst a crowd of punters in a pub and loved to “have a bloody good laugh”.

He also revealed to me he loved The Stranglers, so I brought my cassette tape along as we embarked on our mission. Those days felt like the last days of summer and “Always the Sun” provided the perfect anthem. There were plenty to go with the sadness, angst, anger, joy and dreaming of that year, but none transcended the moment like that particular song. All the typical teenage issues were coursing through me as I looked towards an uncertain future. These thoughts, worries and dreams were all expressed in the conversations I had in that field whilst regularly punctuating them jokes and listening to my uncle’s own reminisces. The nature of my parents’ work had made them very busy. My father was very ambitious, having little time for me as I grew up. My uncle was like a father to me in many ways and very different my dad. I inherited my father’s ambition and the frustrations of both sides of my family to achieve new heights in my chosen areas of interest. My uncle provided a vital outside perspective. He had no sense of ambition. He had perfected the art of contentment. He was also an eternal optimist and moulded his reality in a way I could never manage. He loved cars and gone through a veritable range of high performance and luxury models when he had been wealthy. In these latter years and since his finances had dwindled, he retained his passion for cars and no matter what he bought he celebrated it as if it was the best thing he had ever owned.

“Always the Sun” is at times dreamy and even wistful. It has a cynical edge running through each verse and good measure of sarcasm that honours the punk heritage of its writers. However, when the music builds with Jet Black’s distinctive drum beats to the song’s chorus we delivered a defiant line that could be taken as either humbling or comforting – just like the sun. The whole greatest hits album might as well have been the anthem to our slaying those triffid-like weeds as we progressed across that field with the sun on our backs and laughter not far from our conversation. However, “Always the Sun” would always take me back to those days.

It was the summer of 2007 when I finally got that song on a CD. I bought it especially for my uncle. I played it to him one last time that year, a few months before he passed away. He said in an uncharacteristic resignation to fate that echoed the sentiment of the verses, “I don’t think I will be seeing many more of them” referring to the sun. A couple of days later and I drove my mother down to her house. We stopped just before it and looked towards the field. “Do you think there is anything after we go?” she asked me. “I don’t know”, I replied looking at the sun beginning to set. “All I know is that I have memories and as much they change they will always appear constant and that is enough of an afterlife for me”. My uncle lives through the expressions and tones he used that I picked up over the years, and also in a remembrance to appreciate the present. I knew that the sun would die one day, but as far as our mortal lifespan was concerned it might as well be ever-lasting. The way that light hit the field and illuminated the old Cotswold wall was enough spirituality for me. As far as celestial accompaniment is concerned, give me that little battered old cassette playing The Strangler’s best effort at a summer

pop song any day. Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

There were pigs in my daughter’s Nativity Play. She told me as much weeks ago, but I finally saw for myself last night. They are part of a cast of anthropomorphised animals that decide to stay awake to see the arrival of their presents. Santa Claus is not mentioned, but the surprise birth of Christ will occur that very night in the animals’ manger…. So, let’s get this straight. The animals, which include the only domesticated pink pigs in first century Judea, are excited about celebrating a Christmas that hasn’t been invented yet. What I am describing is Caroline Hoile’s “Cockadoodle Christmas”, a musical created for three to seven year olds, containing eight original songs. With weird surreal convolutions and contradictions in the plot, it is a very apt representation of Church of England religious culture.

Looking at the whole play made me think of the “’Til Death Do US Part” Christmas special, where a hugely Anglicized version of the events was discussed by comedy’s favourite bigot, Alf Garnett. Garnett’s wife Else also comments that it was not surprising Mary and Joseph couldn’t find room for the night, as "everything is closed at Christmas!" The reality is that we have now arrived at a time whereby few people care about the surreal notion of a Christmas tradition already being in place prior to their being a Christ. Matters are not made better by fundamentalists who object the secularization of the festivities. They are often the same ones who suddenly decided that Halloween was a Satan-worshipping tradition, somehow forgetting the meaning of the title. True, Halloween was a Pagan tradition prior to being Christianized, but according to many 18th and 19th century historians and Christians alike, so was Christmas. Similar things could be said about Easter, the celebration of Christ's resurrection that coincides the fertility festivals of spring in the western hemisphere.

"In the Bleak Midwinter" is a poem, now generally sung as a popular and beautifully melancholy carol, that re-imagines the Nativity in northern England. However, as has been pointed to me, snow has been known to fall in Judea during the winter months of November to February, so we shouldn't scoff at the Christmas cards that show snow covered mangers. At least that might be the case if there was historical evidence to show that Jesus was born during those months. Not only is there no historical evidence of Christ being born then, it goes against the scriptural account. A Roman census, which led Mary and Jospeph to return to Bethlehem to register, would not have been held during the winter months and neither would shepherds been watching their flocks by night. There is no historical or scriptural record of the definite year, let alone month or day of Jesus's birth.

The Christmas that the majority of the world has now settled on is a bizarre combinations of traditions some of which probably stems from a need for people living in the western hemisphere to cheer themselves up during its darkest and sometimes coldest days: midwinter. Nevertheless, there are many popular arguments that say it was a transformation of the Roman festival for their sun god, Sol Invictus, or that it occurred precisely nine months to the day that some Christians say Christ was conceived. Regardless of this attempt to solemnize the legitimacy of the date, the traditions of Christmas are overwhelmingly pagan and secular, and the Christian representation is one that has severely filtered through European art and translation. I have little time for the conspiracy theorists who think that the festival is being secularized. Those who protest at others calling the festival "Happy Holidays" really need to exercise a more live and let live attitude to their fellow humans.

I have plenty of sympathy for those who choose not to celebrate Christmas for religious or irreligious reasons. I really think the charitable aspect of Christmas or the Christmas Spirit should be extended through tolerance. No one should be bullied into having a joyous disposition or to celebrate something they don't want to celebrate. I am not a religious person at all anymore, but I think there is something universal in the desire to brighten up the darkest month of the year and to inspire a sense of charity. There is still a big part me of that has empathy for those who treat it as another day and take advantage of the fact that they can focus on the work better. In some respects, I pay tribute to that side of me by having a traditional training session.

On this note, it seems a little silly to argue against the secularization of Christmas. Likewise, I don't think secularists should worry too much about using the word "Christmas". I have gone through many phases regarding this time of year. The end of teenage years saw a petulant dislike of the season rise in me like so much brandy butter flavoured bile in my throat. I loathed the pressures of getting Christmas presents, the forced friendships with people you just didn't get on with, the idea of embracing tackiness in a post-ironic way and sickening false sentimentalism of celebrities. It also coincided with my reaction to organized religion, which only stoked my fires. Years later I learnt to make the most of any popular festival, embracing what I liked about it and disregarding the rest. Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby drowned out Slade, Wizzard and Paul McCartney and all the other tacky nonsense in my home. I will watch Gremlins over most Christmas movies. Garlands and wreathes counter tinsel and paper chains. The Pogues and the soundtrack to The Muppets Christmas Carol have proven great antidotes to Bob Geldolf's pop dictatorship over which charity we should donate to. I think this year we have a lot to learn from the way Adele responded to his call and quietly donated to a charity prior the release of the fourth incarnation of a record that no one has any real pride in creating.

Christmas, like any celebration, is what you make of it and that is how it has naturally endured, and been accepted by so many. Christmas has continuously mutated. Odin and eight-legged horse flying across the skies has morphed into a role taken on by St. Nicholas and his eight reindeer. In turn, he has become a figure that has been seen as something an opponent to the saint's chosen religion, Jesus himself. It is often amusing to see these mutations take place and it is why we have plays such as "Cockadoodle Christmas".

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Plot:
Michael Berg (Ralph Fiennes) is a dethatched man. Divorced but the father of a daughter he doesn't see enough of, he reflects upon his past. At 15 years old (David Kross) he was struck down by scarlet fever, but rescued by a 36 year old tram conductor called Hanna (Kate Winslet). After a lengthy recovery period he tracks down his rescuer and they begin a secret affair. Hanna is a very mysterious woman who, seeing that Michael is studying classic literature, asks that he read to her before they have sex. Despite Hanna's cold manner and Michael's childlike inexperience, the relationship begins to further develop. Then one day, upon hearing she is to be promoted, Hanna abruptly leaves her apartment without saying a word to Michael. Years later as an undergraduate and whilst attending a trial as part of a special seminar held by a concentration camp survivor, Michael attends a trial for Auschwitz guards who presided over several atrocities at the camp. One particular atrocity involved the deaths of 300 prisoners who were locked into a burning church by the guards. One guard is singled out as the ringleader of this particular crime. Michael is shocked to see that this guard is none other than his mysterious Hanna...

Review:
If you told me that "The Reader" swept the 2009 Oscars I wouldn't have been surprised. It didn't despite being nominated in some of the top categories. In the end only Kate Winslet nabbed her long overdue gold, as she had done at all the other major festivals, but more on that later.

Back to the film proper and I have to say that not only does it seem to be the sort of feature destined to clean up at such shows, but it is actually very good. "The Reader" is based on a 1995 German novel by Bernhard Schlink and provides an interesting situation for filmmakers. It is an English speaking film made in collaboration with Germany and America distributed by the Weinstein Company. The result is an English speaking picture filmed in Germany, but given the exposure of offered by Hollywood. The film only received a limited release, but this type of picture was never destined to be an opponent for "The Day the Earth Stood Still", which was released on the same day. Its rivals were more obviously other thought-provoking dramas such as "Doubt", which came out a couple of days later. "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was also another obvious rival. It came out in the same month too. However, it is here where we can see the superiority of "The Reader" of this particular film. Although a good movie, Benjamin Button doesn't really prompt a tremendous amount of thought, at least not on subjects that really challenge the viewer. I would even go as far as saying that the make-up effects performed on Kate Winslet rival the visual effects in Benjamin Button, which nabbed its Oscar for this particular area.

The first half of "The Reader" comes across like a European film. In this sense it is very honourable to the structure and spirit of Schlink's book. However, it has been accused of eroticizing the serious issues it covers and even creating a type of perversion. What these critics are referring to, of course, is the fact that Kate Winslet spends a good part of this first half completely naked and fulfilling a 15 year old boy's fantasy. Shown as a touching intimate relationship, it is uncomfortable to acknowledge that this is actually a positive depiction of an ex-Auschwitz camp guard committing paedophilia. I don't think this shakes the film's moral core. The scenes may be sentimental, but they are far from pornographic in their execution and didn't strike me as disturbing.

Stephen Daldry's direction with these scenes - and indeed the rest of the film - should be acknowledged. Daldry, like Winslet, is another criminally overlooked talent. As those of you are familiar with my reviews might know, I have a soft spot for works based on plays or that have gone into inspire plays. It is then not surprising to me that Daldry's background is in theatre. A good theatre director, especially one that specializes in straight drama, has a special relationship with his actors and is usually perfect for character-driven works, which "The Reader" is. He keeps scenes moving at the right pace throughout the film and even in places that an inferior director might make ponderous, something that is easy to do with an adaptation of a novel that doesn't have a great deal of action throughout.

A far more direct criticism of both the book and film is that it sympathizes with the perpetrators of one of history's most diabolical evils and downplays the relevance of the holocaust. As with other films such as "Dead Man Walking" and "The Woodsman" this type of criticism really misses the point. Like these films, the horrors of Hanna's actions are never mitigated. She is not put across as a warm character, but rather a person with someone disturbing personality traits and a corrupt sense of values. What the film does that the others I have mentioned also do, is show humanity in all its guises. This includes being honest about human relationships. It refuses to acknowledge that everyone involved in atrocities are one dimensional monsters, a view that although might sit nicely with our clear cut morals but doesn't help explain anything. People who wish to see this sort of thing in history or even works of historical fiction retard our ability to understand. They remind me of those who justify the revision of history for "the good of the cause".

What will upset these critics even more is the sense of apathy that the film reflects on the holocaust as time moves on. Even the unforgiving daughter of a survivor admits that nothing of value came out of the camps. On that note I would say that the great Jewish philosopher, holocaust survivor and author of "Man's Search for Meaning", Viktor Frankl, would disagree. Nevertheless, the point is that this piece of terrible history that has dominated the German national psyche for the rest of the 20th century is becoming more and more detached from the living. "The Reader" explores this without casting judgment, but prompts thought and reflection.

Overall this we have the metaphor of reading and, more specifically, reading allowed. "Der Vorleser", the original name for Schlink's novel, actually implies "reading allowed" as opposed to just reading. Hanna's journey goes from being a detached illiterate person who only receives information to a person who can read and therefore immerse herself in the classics she enjoyed listening to. Likewise the horrors of the holocaust and the situations Germans found themselves in during the time that the Nazis were in power are juxtaposed with the feelings of those who weren't there.

Aside from Kate Winslet's performance as Hanna throughout the picture, including having to endure over seven hours of prosthetics to show her aging, the film also stars Ralph Fiennes playing the older Michael Berg and German actor David Kross as his younger counterpart. Fiennes is as reliable as ever putting in a reserved performance as the reflective Berg and Kross shows serious potential throughout his performance. Given the restrictions of the film being English-speaking yet based in Germany and on a German novel, it is always awkward to decide how to handle dialogue. Having all the actors speak in a German accent often only works in the tongue-in-cheek manner seen in "The Shadow of the Vampire", but here it almost feels like we are watching a German film that for some reason we can hear in English. It's quite a skill and interesting something that Schlink, the book's author, insisted upon, believing the issues deserved a wider audience.

Postscript:Incidentally being a big follower of Ricky Gervais's work I guess I couldn't leave this review without my comment on his comical prediction that came true. For those who are not aware of this prophetic example of this "many a true things spoken in jest" moment, I will explain and at the same time try to put down a rather disturbing racist conspiracy theory at the same time. In episode three of his series, "Extras", Kate Winslet, playing a self-parody, comes back with a cynical ulterior motive when she is commended on raising awareness of the holocaust:

"My god, I'm not really doing it for that. I don't think we really need another film about the Holocaust, do we? It's like, how many have there been? We get it! It was grim! Move on! No, I'm doing it because I've noticed that if you do a film about the Holocaust: guaranteed Oscar. I've been nominated for four. Never won! The whole world is going, 'Why hasn't Winslet won one?' That's it. That's why I'm doing it. Schindler's bloody List. The Pianist. Oscars coming out of their ass!""Kate Winslet's win this time around seemed to prove Gervais's point exactly and he ribbed her about it publically at the Golden Globes Awards, "I told you, do a Holocaust movie and the awards come, didn't I?" As is the nature of Gervais's humour, the point ridicules Hollywood sentimentality and intentionally shocks by using a taboo subject. Some have interpreted the original lines to be inferring to the great Jewish conspiracy that is supposedly behind everything, but this is highly unlikely. Gervais is known as a strong rational sceptic, which one would assume would deter him from anti-Semitic conspiracy theories, and besides given the criticism this film and the novel it was based on has incurred it is not the sort of holocaust film that would be approved of by the supposed "Elders of Zion".

I wrote this review back in February 2010. This was before Ricky Gervais's material went downhill with the "Ricky Gervais Show" podcast onwards and the guy proved to be a bit of hypocritical animal rightist.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

Plot:

“Marvellous” is based on the true story of Neil Baldwin. Baldwin was diagnosed with “learning difficulties” at school, but didn’t allow the label to discourage him from achieving as much in life as his heart desired. We meet Neil working as Nello the clown in the circus. He goes on to get a regular role at Keele University, advising and helping students, and is employed by his beloved football team, Stoke City. Along the way, his mother worries profusely whether he will be able to look after himself after she dies.

Review:

Before I begin, I guess I better put in a mild caveat. A TV film like “Marvellous” is probably not going to get the most unbiased of reviews from me. It focuses on the life of someone who I never met, but nevertheless I know plenty of people who do know him. This includes the great Norman Barrett, a dear friend of my family, who features in a brief cameo at the film’s conclusion and is also mentioned a few times, including his MBE status. These are all anachronistic, but that takes nothing away from the nature of the film. Norman’s budgies are also a plot point. For the most part, the film shows circus in a good light, which is a refreshing change. Only the ringmaster of the first circus is presented as something of a villain. This is becoming a bit of a cliché now along with the assumption that the ringmaster is traditionally the owner of the show. Nevertheless, many of my circus friends and family were smiling when the film won the Best Single Drama category of the 2015 BAFTAs.

“Marvellous” does not pretend to be a historically accurate biopic and the style of composition, including characters breaking the fourth wall to consult the real-life personalities, are slightly reminiscent of Michael Winterbottom and Frank Cottrell’s Boyce’s “24 Hour Party People”. The result is an interesting hybrid drama that further proves the burgeoning strengths of television in recent times.

The sales blurb declares it to be part biopic, part fantasy and part musical. If this is the case, then these parts are not evenly distributed. The biopic description is the prevailing aspect to the point where the fantasy might be interpreted as forgivable artistic interpretation and the musical part – consisting entirely of Fenton Choir –comes across more as a soundtrack rather than an integral part of the drama. The film is all the better for this ratio. This is a tribute and celebration of the unique character of Neil Baldwin, playfully realizing his dreams in an exaggerated fashion. Demonstrating a lack of pretentiousness and a comfortable sense of self-awareness, the film even has the real Neil Baldwin being asked by Toby Jones whether or not an event occurred like it is depicted in the film. Baldwin replies with a flat “no”.

The film is fervently non-judgemental without being ridiculously positive. The locations are nearly always drab, often showing examples of bad weather or uninspiring building interiors. Baldwin’s escapades are described as unique techniques for blagging your way into various dream experiences. Along the way he is met with unkindness that Neil isn’t oblivious to, but he shrugs off as “banter”. Baldwin’s “learning difficulties” are never really defined and the viewer isn’t prompted to be curious. This is dealt with in a non-patronizing way. Baldwin and his mother just simply ignore the frustrated efforts of others to get them to discuss his “condition”, and everyone cannot help but be carried along by the lead character’s confidence.

Critics of “Marvellous” have rightly noticed that Julian Farino took on a tall order with true style. A lesser director could have easily descended into sentimental schmaltz or ironic irreverence. Do not expect this to be another “Forrest Gump” or “Rain Man”. Don’t expect “Derek” either for that matter. The film portrays Neil Baldwin in an honest light. This includes the long suffering worries of his mother, portrayed by Gemma Jones in a performance that deservedly earned her a best-supporting actress BAFTA, and the clergy that are obliged to lend their charitable hand of support. In this respect, “Marvellous” is as much a tribute to the spirit of collective humanity as it is to the positive attitude of its lead protagonist. It is significant that Baldwin’s aspirations are not achieved just because he is doggedly determined and won’t give up on his dreams, but also because of the many people who seem to find themselves helping him.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

So, my busy schedule puts me at a loss once again to produce anything particularly meaningful on yet another very important historic day. 800 years ago this week, on 19th June, King John and 25 rebellious barons shared a charter drafted by the Archbishop of Canterbury that was intended to restore peace between the crown and the aforementioned angered noblemen. John would give the charter his royal seal, but contrary to many dramatic depictions, including the one I describe later, he could not be forced into signing it. In essence, Magna Carta would protect the barons from being subject to limitless taxations by the king and also from unjustifiable imprisonment. The charter was radical document for its time and neither side stood by their commitments, leading to the First Barons' War. It would be called upon in response to the actions of another rebel, Simon DeMontford. DeMontford would covene a "parley" at Kenilworth Castle in 1264, consisting of demoncractically elected knights. This would be the first Parliament. He would eventually usurp the crown for a year, becoming a prototypical Oliver Cromwell before he was overthrown and killed by Henry III's forces. Henry would re-issue and re-edited version of the Magna Carta.

The Magna Carta sewed the seeds for English and eventually British democracy. Its strongest idea was that no one, including the king, was above the law of the land. Such a powerful dictum would be put to its ultimate test when Cromwell's Parliamentarians brought King Charles I to trial and, upon finding him guilty of treason, executed him. Magna Carta's legacy underlines the core principles of democracy and The Universal Declaration of Human Rights 1948 is often described as the Magna Carta of our age.

I come across references to Magna Carta all the time. I discussed it in my review of Melvyn Bragg's "12 Books that Changed the World" (read here). The Henry III/Simon DeMontford drama is recounted in my review of "A Great and Terrible King". However, my fondest reference to Magna Carta came via Alan Simpson and Ray Galton's Anthony Aloysius St John Hancock of 23 Railway Cuttings, East Cheam, played by Tony Hancock. Radio 2 has twice referenced it in the last couple of days. I tweeted yesterday, but it should have a place on the blog:

"Does Magna Carta mean nothing to you? Did she die in vain? Brave Hungarian peasant girl who forced King John to sign the pledge at Runnymede and close the boozers at half past ten! Is all this to be forgotten?"

Tony Hancock, in Twelve Angry Men.

The below archive review I wrote about the historical action movie, "Ironclad", displayed about as much historical accuracy as Hancock's statement.

Plot:
A medieval action film set after the signing of the Magna Carta, "Ironclad" covers the story of King John (Paul Giamatti) of England's backlash against the barons who opposed him. The ink is barely dry before the vengeful King recruits an army of Danish mercenaries to re-take his kingdom and punish those who have opposed him. This led to an all-out war and the film focuses on the siege of Rochester Castle. William d'Aubigny (Brian Cox), one of the 25 guarantors of the Magna Carta, leads his group away from the vengeful king, along with a wronged Knight Templar (James Purefoy), and to the apparent sanctuary of Rochester…

Review: "Have you ever killed a man, squire? It is not a noble thing. Not even when it is for God!"
Since the advent of TV series like “Rome”, historical action drama has taken a decidedly more adult turn and reaped the financial benefits. At the higher end we have the lavish, superbly casted, beautifully produced and cleverly-plotted “A Game of Thrones” – its sex and violence never taking anything away from its clever plot twists, intriguing character development and very quotable dialogue – and then we have bottom-feeding dross like “Spartacus”, where every scene is a vehicle to take us to the next piece of pornography. The Brits don’t seem to have fared that well. “Camelot” was a classic failure of low budget and groping for the lowest level of entertainment. However, if “Ironclad” is anything to go by, it would appear that old Blighty might still have something worth saying about adult historical action films.

Of course, when I say “historical” I mean that as a rather loose term. “Ironclad” may have the look and feel of harsh medieval England and there certainly was a siege at Rochester Castle involving William d’Aubigny, where starvation was a major factor, but that is where the history pretty much stops with this picture. Instead director Jonathan English decides to ramp up the brutality and lead us into a dark battle between a deeply vengeful King, asserting his “God-given” right to rule, and the defenders of liberty and honour.

It’s a fairly black and white affair in terms of character development. James Pureloy is adequate as the Knight Templar at the end of his term, falling in love and wanting revenge on the spiteful king. As the indomitable and courageous warrior he clearly takes the heroic centre stage, but doesn’t fare well against the supporting cast. If this was intended to be his star vehicle it was ill-advised. Brian Cox is as impressive as he ever was playing the brave and resolute d’Aubigny who proves he will stand anything to the bitter end for his beliefs and those in his charge – playing martyr to his cause and his people better than Mel Gibson ever could. Derek Jacobi weighs in as Reginald de Cornhill, who was constable of Rochester Castle. Perhaps unnoticed by the more casual of viewer’s Jacobi’s Cornhill could easily be mistaken for a coward and humourless man of power with a trapped much younger wife. However, I was impressed by the way Jacobi revealed him to be a realist and a man of no lesser sense of responsibility than d’Aubigny. Another notable is McKenzie Crook who is doing a fine job working in straight roles. Here he plays an archer on the side of the barons. Finally, Paul Giamatti gives us a ruthless, spiteful, vicious, driven and unreasonable King John that would have been more than a match for most Robin Hoods. Here and there we get glimpses of his reasoning for his ruthlessness and religious excuse we see associated with Richard I, Henry V and Charles I. Sadly, none of the female cast members stand out and it is little surprising, this is clearly a lad’s film dressed up in historically accurate settings and costumes.

However, this isn’t to say it isn’t enjoyable. The real star of the piece is the film’s director, Jonathan English. Among English’s CV is the horror film “Minotaur” and this is somewhat key. Viewers have remarked on the film’s realism, which is never more evident than in the film’s battle scenes. However, I would go one step further. For a 15 certificate, even by today’s standards, the violence is incredibly brutal and often cruel. I appreciate the floodgates have been opened since the rise of shows like “Rome”, but the film’s tagline says it all: “Blood will run!” Viewers get an eye-full of blades slicing through limbs, necks, heads and so on, often with the camera leering at the anguish and pain. This is an action film that uses the violence of a horror picture and I have to admit it is very effective. It has its moments of heroism and contains excellent fight choreography, but there is clearly an interest to showing the viewer the realities of fighting a battle.

“Ironclad” rises above most action films in many ways. It is beautifully shot, well-acted, has authentic historical settings and enough twists to keep the momentum of a siege story going. Don’t expect a character driven piece, even though it has a strong cast, but a fairly unpredictable action picture that pulls no punches when it comes to showing how fights are won and lost.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

I cast my mind back to 2010 and my then three year old daughter has woken me up. It’s too early and I need my sleep. In desperation to grab a bit more dozing time she is given a mobile phone with various educational games. This will keep her happy for a while. Her eyes dark around the small screen as her fingertips tap and swipe. She performs various tasks that will stimulate her mind and build neural pathways. I was as dubious then as I am now by the benefits of early education, but these games cannot hurt. My daughter is actively engaging in something. She is being proactive whereas I will soon turn on the radio or the television and passively receive whatever information happens to be available.

I was a child that grew up at the dawn of the fourth terrestrial channel. It was also the era of the video cassette, personal home computer and arcade games. With the romance of hindsight and that intoxicating drug we call self-righteousness, it is very easy for me to say that we had the perfect balance over today’s hedonistic, spoilt, overweight and unhealthy wretched brood. We were the last and most representative of Douglas Coupland’s Generation X and just followed the tail end of Andrew Collins’ “Where did it all go Right” brigade. Our generation were the last to experience good rebellious music as teenagers and the ones responsible for allowing our children to be baptized in Don Tapscott’s digital ocean. We were also the first to embrace large scale toy merchandizing alongside our traditional fairy tales. Many of us cried when a giant robot was killed in a motion picture in order to make way for a Christmas toy line. When we got to our adolescence we were filled with a combination of righteous indignation whilst being simultaneously softened by political correctness, which seemed set to ruin the childhood we remembered, sanitizing it for those not yet into double figures. We were cynics and sceptics, and we were also superficially sentimental. The science fiction and fantasy of our youth now dominates the cinemas, which is barely enough to distract us from the fact that we have been lapped by the Millennial Generation.

Many of us have adapted very well to the rapid flow of changing technology. Our generation and the ones before us are heavy internet users. However, we are no match for those who have grown up in the digital world. My generation had to learn how to touch type if we wanted that skill. I completed module on keyboarding, where I was happy with the way I just about got the hang of not looking at the keys – except if they were numbers! I even recall a sit-com from the ‘80s where a professional secretary proudly showed her boss she didn’t need to look down in order to type. Touch-typing is no longer considered a skill for those born as little as 10 years after me. This generation does not require instruction manuals either. Their brains, along with the development of technology, have arrived at a happy agreement whereby people actively explore and learn how to work devices once they’ve found the start button.

The internet has become an incredible resource for research, exploration and education. Wikipedia is often scoffed at by the middleclass intelligentsia, but its bottom-up method of collaboration has presented the most peer-reviewed resource available to mankind. It’s far from perfect and there are a myriad of examples of bad entries on there, but the self-correcting format has led to a huge database of scholarly references and a global picture on many subjects. The digital generation cooperates, builds, improves and searches. Many of the games that they play have been shown to improve hand/eye coordination and revolve around problem solving.

The writings of Lt Col. Dave Grossman, a common resource of mine for certain aspects of self-protection training, have a political campaign against violent video games. That is an issue for another day, but it is worth noting the reasoning behind the argument is because of the level of sophistication of “shoot ‘em ups”. They are at military simulation level, but are being used recreationally. I cannot say I support his argument. Much of the anti-violent video game correlation with classroom killings has proven to be inconclusive at best and a result of confirmation bias for a certain political agenda at worst. Grossman is anti-TV too in a manner that might be compared to certain religious groups who restrict outside media influence. Such a thought brings me back to 2010 and my passive listening to the news whilst my latter day millennial daughter happily discovers patterns of coconuts on the mobile phone game. I have never been overly convinced by the violence in entertainment angle. After all, our great literature contains some of the most atrocious examples of cruelty, brutality and sadism, and often for no better reason than to titillate. If Shakespeare’s “Titus Andronicus” and Sophocles’ “Oedipus Rex” aren’t enough to convince you, try looking up older versions of well-loved fairy tales for examples of cannibalism, rape, sadistic mutilation and a moral core that is out of sync with even our great-grandparents’ generation.

However, that isn’t to say that Grossman’s points regarding the level of training being offered in some of these games aren’t irrelevant and ironically there might be some positive benefits in what he is describing. The military certainly think so. From pilots to drivers, many personnel have been trained for years using computer simulations. Mind you, the military once explored remote viewing and telekinesis, so let’s not get too excited.

So, having said all this, what about the big issue that so many of us are seeing regarding pro-longed gaming or computer usage? They might not make our children more violent or hinder their mental agility, but what about their social lives, their physical health and their ability to process information?

Socially there is perhaps even wider interaction than ever before. Social media brings more people together and easily expands a person’s social circle. With a global society working in real time, individuals are more likely to find friends that genuinely share the same interests rather being forced to compromise in order to fit into a local community. It also brings with it certain inherent dangers and cultivates a darker side, but I have already covered that in other articles. The rise of the “keyboard warrior” might be worth comparing with a fall in common courtesy.

The physical issue is a genuine concern. Although a bad diet greatly contributes to the substantial rise in obesity seen at the turn of the 21^st century onwards, overall health is more affected by whether or not an individual sedentary. There have been various attempts to develop more physically interactive games, but they rarely do a decent job of mimicking anything substantial. They’ll burn a few calories, but users swiftly get bored by the sheer gimmickry of the product and are more likely to get back into the consistently more popular sedentary area of gaming.

I worry about the way the online community processes information. Although it seems like there is no excuse to be ignorant given the so-called Information Age we live in, human nature does not work in such simple ways. Firstly, we have confirmation bias. If holds onto and invests strongly enough in a belief they will be deaf and blind to contrary points. The internet cultivates niche communities. It is a place where you can go, find likeminded people and immerse yourself in a shared existence that will be impervious to anything that might contradict your shared ideas. This is why conspiracy theorists thrive online. Secondly, despite there being a fantastic array of written material, the confirmed success of electronic books and the internet providing more opportunities for writers than before, video and imagery trump everything as the most popular resource. I have watched the two sides to gaining knowledge from online videos in millennials. On the one hand they quickly learn nifty tricks around machines, which has saved them a fortune and added to their life skills. On the other hand their actual knowledge on subjects is fragile in its superficiality. By not reading literary material or good quality academic studies they come over as bluffers on certain subjects. Worse still, their arguments fall away as they scramble for sufficient underpinning knowledge and can do little other than bluster or bully their way through a discussion when it is quite evident to all that are present that they are out of their depth because they lack depth. In short, they’ve learnt the bluffer’s guide to information and it could be argued that the need to pretend expertise in everything is enhanced by the currency of fame that is never more evident than it is today.

I don’t worry so much for an over-reliance on online and computer entertainment, but rather a lack of access to a healthy surrounding environment. I grew up in a pretty unique environment, travelling until I was seven, living in a caravan until I was a teenager and living most of my life in the English countryside. Yet I was often referred to as a “telly addict”. My mother saw TV as a drug and bemoaned the day I discovered “Play School” and the “Godzilla Power Hour”. I got into films and I loved videos. She said some of the best times she had with me when we were touring was when we were on grounds that didn’t have electricity.

Whenever I visited my godfather in St. David’s I was shown a life without television. Nevertheless, I was always skinny child with boundless energy and did moderately well at track events before I discovered a passion for martial arts. The countryside and the environment around me promoted exercise. You just couldn’t help but do things. Maybe I wasn’t channelled in a particular discipline until I reached my teens, but my generation of telly addicts would watch our programmes and then exercise our bodies and imaginations by acting them out together. I went to present a two-part documentary and appear in a live production whereas my best friend now professionally teaches/lectures on drama and dance.

Life in an environment that allowed me access to space and natural instinctive exercise was more responsible for this introvert from becoming a couch potato. My mother once checked me for the beginning stages of arcade game addiction. She didn’t forbid me, but her words of warning helped curb my interest and let it peter out.

I see a similar existence for my daughter. I look at the array of channels and programmes she has access to and I have to admit I am half-envious. I have acquired my previous generation’s level of indignation. “When I was your age”, I can hear myself saying, “I was grateful to piece together five minute segments of my favourite cartoons over a week of Timmy Mallet annoying me. Stories were rarely in the right order and there was no attempt to follow the US system of series of for kids. We had to endure the ‘Wide-Awake-Club’, Roland Rat, ‘Going Live’ and the mind numbingly moronic ‘Get Fresh’ on a Saturday morning to earn our right to watch entire old episodes of our favourite cartoons. You get a choice of several different incarnations of your favourite shows, played back-to-back!” She watches television every day, but she commands it in a way that my generation didn’t. She will watch a reasonable amount, get up and play. She doesn’t venerate it as I remembering doing.

Being involved in the entertainment industry, I have seen both a healthy reaction to digital and non-live media in the form of a richer variety of entertainment. Circus could be seeing a resurrection of sorts and theatre seems to be experimenting in many different ways. There are more schools teaching a wider range of skills for young people to access. On the other hand, I sit firmly with the grumpy old people who despair at the mobile phone culture. This is not just as a self-righteous member of my generation but as a reformed mobile phone cyborg. For a brief period I was one of them. I have to say it completely distorted a lot of my life and worked like a predacious virus attacking me at my most vulnerable. Worse still, I could see the way it consumed the lives of so many others. I watched on at lonely souls, living an imaginary world of their own justification, cultivating their own sycophants or misery feeders, “vague-booking” their statuses and oblivious to what they had become.

Now seeing a group of friends gather in one place only to immediately put their heads down and obsessively interact with their handheld devices is a pretty pitiful viewing experience. We are in the age of the constantly distracted conversation and where the actions of many dictate a seemingly eternal desire not to be where they are at that precise moment. Watching people endlessly put up pictures of what they are about to eat is a sad state of affairs, as are the endless pictures of people’s legs that have largely replaced holiday snaps. The ultimate extent of this cyborg existence can be seen when the mobile device and its entertainment world meets exterior entertainment. Few things are as irritating as being with people who want to continuously take “selfies” when you are engaged in an activity. The experience feels like the interactive equivalent of watching a movie and pressing the pause button every few seconds. Then there are those who watch live shows through their mobile devices. I see little or no justification for this activity. Why would you want to stand or sit through the majority of a performance you have paid good money to watch whilst holding your arms out in a fixed position watching it through a small screen? The point is that you are there to enjoy the “live” experience not create a bad piece of filming. If you want to re-watch it on your computer or TV buy the DVD or download and get a professional recording. The idiocy of such trends I hope and pray will soon become evident in our society as more people appreciate the value of actually living experiences.

My conclusion is that children have not, on the whole, become reliant on television, tablets and other forms anti-social media for entertainment. This worry reminds me of the 1964 children’s novel, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” by Roald Dahl. The book features an obnoxious child telly addict, Mike Teavee, who exhibits all the worst fears of those who blame television for many of the society’s ills. It even features a song that lists all the damage television does and concedes its only backhanded virtue is in its ability to keep children occupied whilst parents can get on with chores. The book was just one example of how many artists responded to the proliferation of television in the 1950s. My family’s circus even fled the country to tour in South Africa in the same year as the book’s publication as a direct response to the emerging TV menace. The incident is referenced in the novel “Love, Let Me Not Hunger” by Paul Gallico. However, the sky did not fall down, creativity did not peak and, despite the rise in obesity, we have some of the fittest people to have ever walked this planet. Now circuses encourage their audiences to use their mobile devices to help spread the word via social media.

However, the environment we create around children is perhaps more at issue. We live in a climate of fear. We jump at shadows when it comes to our children, preferring them to be locked away in the safety of their own home. The tragic irony is that most accidents and deaths occur in the home and the majority of people who will commit offences against children will be those the children know. We need to encourage a better sense of community in order to safeguard security for our children and ensure their health. Most children don’t want prolonged to be plugged all day long into their devices, but they will be if they don’t have many other attractive alternatives. We can create a balance for them that need not be a lot of hard work, but a simple reassessment of daily life.

Don't forget to check out Jamie Clubb's main blog www.jamieclubb.blogspot.com

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