Houghton

Thank you, Google Maps!

UK Roads 
The first day of our trip we set off and drove - well, Bill drove - about 200 miles.  In the old motorhome, that's about enough.  

US readers will think that's quite wimpy, perhaps, but British roads are nothing like those in the US, and aren't likely ever to be.  

I think that's meant to be a herb garden.

 
Small roads that pass farm houses by a few feet have gradually grown into massive main roads.  I often wonder about the air quality it some of those houses and how do the residents sleep with the noise and the worry that some lorry might come crashing through their bedroom one night?  

I just liked how they did the front door...

At one place on the M62 in Yorkshire there is a whole farm in the 'central reservation' of the motorway.  

Terraced cottages with thatched roof covered in chicken wire.

Roundabouts at junctions both facilitate and slow the traffic.  At really large ones with nothing coming, a car can almost zip straight over, but anything like a lorry or camper van has to slow to make the curves.  We were travelling mid-day.  The best that can be said for UK roads is that billboards aren't allowed. 

Another version of the scarecrow?

North and South
In a previous post I mentioned Gaskell's book of this name and Susan Partlan commented on having seen a BBC TV production.  The book is about attitudes in 1855 concerning social class and about manufacturing in particular.  The world has moved on considerably in the past 150 years or so, but there are still significant differences in the North and South of England in work, wealth, weather, health, politics, religion, you name it.  

Romantic window on the Water Close cottages... If it had been 'closet' it would
have been a romantic loo...

I expect the North would love to still have that 'stigma' associated with manufacturing...at least they could have jobs.  Hard to believe that such a small place (England is roughly 500 miles NE to SW) could have such differences.  Just remember all roads lead to London.

Bill commented on the tiny stones that made up this wall.
This isn't really a photo of a Norman church.  It's
actually a photo of BLUE SKY!

Houghton Village
We stayed just the one night at Houghton.  Bill was pleased to learn the caravan site managers were thrilled to see our ancient bus; apparently ours is a rare breed.   

And I complain about the maintenance costs on our house...

The caravan site sits behind a National Trust property, Houghton Mill.  We didn't go inside as the outside was sufficiently attractive for us.  

Another sideways front door.

We took a walk as the rain had abated and found people behaving in a village-y fashion, having a BBQ fundraiser for their church.   On the village 'green' under the old clock tower (with a thatched roof).  You can't get much village-y-er than that!

Yes, I still get excited about fonts...

This is one of the main attractions that the Womens Institute holds for me, being about to walk over to the parish hall and do something village-y.  

Ahhh... the smell of sausages!

It would be better if I'd known everyone in the room for 30 years.  That will of course take time; I just hope everyone stays put (as if...).




The Norman (Anglican) church was of particular interest, not just because of the tiny stones that were used in its construction, but because the spire was of two separate periods, the top part obviously (to him) having been added later.

Houghton is in Cambridgeshire, which though not one of the Home Counties of vernacular geography (I learned a new phrase there) is about an hour on the train to London.  On our return stop there Bill commented that most of the residents at 8pm seemed to either be cycling home from work or going for a jog.  That's what affluent folks do down South, apparently.   

Part XXXIX - War and the Leisure Class

This is part of a series about Theory of the Leisure Class, a book by American Economist Thorstein Veblen.  We are now in the tenth of fourteen chapters, which is titled Modern Survivals of Prowess.  

The leisure class lives alongside of, not as part of, the industrial community.  When Veblen says the relationship is pecuniary rather than industrial, he’s talking about the financing, or the ownership or maybe a position on the Board of Directors.  

"Admission to the [leisure] class is gained by exercise of the pecuniary aptitudes – aptitudes for acquisition rather than for serviceability."  

He suggests that the population of the leisure class changes through ‘selective sifting of the human material’ but that the overall scheme of their lifestyle continues to be a heritage from the past, embodying ‘habits and ideals of the earlier barbarian period’.  These ideals are also passed on to the lower orders to a greater or lesser extent. 

The most obvious aptitude from the barbarian age is that of fighting, of making war. 

“In cases where the predatory activity is a collective one, this propensity is frequently called the martial spirit, or, latterly, patriotism. It needs no insistence to find assent to the proposition that in the countries of civilized Europe the hereditary leisure class is endowed with this martial spirit in a higher degree than the middle classes.”

Veblen says that war is honourable and confers honour and the admiration of all men.  Enthusiasm for war and the predatory temperament are found largely among the leisure classes, but particularly among those of the hereditary leisure class. 

“Moreover, the ostensible serious occupation of the upper class is that of government, which, in point of origin and developmental content, is also a predatory occupation.”

The only class which can match the ‘habitual bellicose frame of mind’ is the ‘lower-class delinquents’.   

Somehow that phrase about the occupation of the upper class being government and all this talk of war - not to mention the use of the term 'patriotism' - caused me to flash back to my last year of high school, my junior year, 1972.  My peers were nearing draft age and the threat of going to Vietnam loomed large.  A few enlisted as they became of age, just to exert that little bit of control.  Others hoped to get into college to avoid the draft, but how to pay for it was a mystery.  I remember feeling helpless.  

There is a bit in one of Kerry Greenwood's Phryne Fisher novels, set in the 1920s, just after World War I.  Some old gent says to another "Why don't young people listen to their elders any more?"  The answer was "Because we told them all to go and die."  

  

Of course in the usual times, most of the industrial classes are averse to any other than a defensive fight and perhaps even a bit reluctant then.  The more civilised a community, the less aggressive they are, but they can eventually be roused to assert themselves martially.  Veblen believes that the more ethnically homogeneous a population, the less distinction there is  between classes, and the less war-like they will be.  It could be that any resentment about class differences may fuel the fighting spirit.  Europe, consisting of many nation-states and different tribes, of course is quite war like.  America, being the melting pot that it has prided itself on being, has of course followed suit.

Hanging Out

When I was very young, Mom and Daddy liked a local bar where they could play shuffleboard (that would be deck shuffleboard, I believe).  This practice declined when I got older and couldn't be content with stacking beer caps; I think laws got a bit stricter too.  

Tea with Lucy

 
When I was growing up I spent a lot of time in dance studios, either taking classes or waiting for my parents (who were photographers) or my dance teacher (Mom's best friend). 




I spent quite a bit of time at friends' houses playing in their rooms or in the back yard.  As a child, my entire street was populated by young families with children and we all rode bikes up and down our street, with cars having to give way. 





When I got slightly older my friends from dance class, and somehow the same aged kids of my dance teacher's other close friends too, took turns holding parties that involved a lot of dancing.  Mom let me paint anything I wanted on my bedroom walls and so my friends would come over for a 'slumber and painting' party, sort of an 'at home graffiti' thing.  





Before school some of us hung out at a donut shop near our bus stop.  In the summer, my girlfriends and I walked our dogs a lot, stopping at the regular haunts, usually convenience stores, for cold drinks - Slurpees, I think they were.  




When I was older, my best friend and I practically lived at a pool hall where her big brother worked. My mother was right to worry about this place, I'm grateful to have been left unscathed.  Most of my spare cash went into the juke box, but I learned a lot from my people watching there.  I left them all behind when I started university.





In the summers, we spent every day we could cooking ourselves at the local pool.  For a couple of years my best friend's father managed the local YMCA and I found myself there a lot.  Our local shopping mall, a square with the library, the dry cleaners, a donut shop, the supermarket, a shoe repair shop, a coffee shop, a Mexican restaurant, a few dress boutiques and a convenience store was a gathering place for kids.  

Here in Britain kids seem to hang out in parks after dark or at local football (soccer) club houses, sometimes at Metro stations or a skateboard park. Most are glued to their electronic gadgets, so I'm not sure it matters much where they congregate, since they largely seem to ignore one another, but I'm sure this is not actually the case.  I read about a shop owner who was tired of the kids hanging out around his place and he played a high frequency sound that older folks can't hear to drive off the kids; another just used classical music. 





When I joined the running club, a bunch of us gathered at the pub afterwards one or two nights a week.  I couldn't keep up with their rounds any more than I could keep up with the running; fortunately I didn't need to.  When retirement gave me my precious gift of spare time, it became one of those challenges again to figure out where to hang out.  



The local community centres in the villages up and down the coast all have groups that meet for all sorts of reasons:  dance, exercise, crafts of a wide variety.  I hang out with sewers and knitters and crafters.  Mind, I quite like hanging out at home with Bill, just pottering around, cooking or gardening or going for beach walks.



I know other ladies do coffee mornings at their church or visit stately homes, take bus tours around the region. When I meet up with friends for lunch or a day out, we tend to hang out by visiting charity shops, museums, galleries, coffee and gift shops and lately sewing and craft shops.  

Simply Fabrics, Wallsend High Street

As Womens' Institute members we can visit WI meetings most nights of the week throughout the month and we've enjoyed visiting a couple of other groups to see what they do. 



  

As much as we like the posh places, I find loads of history and interesting things in the not-so-posh places as well.  You know, where you're happy during the day with lots of people around but wouldn't like to be alone after dark.  I do feel that only staying in one's comfort zone leads to a very one dimensional life.  One day Lucy and I visited Wallsend, a mixed bag of a place (birthplace of Sting).  We went to the coffee shop at Wallsend Hall.  It is the former home of Sir G B (George Burton) Hunter, a Tyneside shipbuilder.  It's now an NHS hospital, but I've no idea what goes on there.  We just went for tea and teacakes.  We liked the mismatched tea cups; the vintage vibe is quite popular these days.

Lunch with Vivien

Then we went to find a small fabric shop that has moved around a lot; I loved their window display. Another day I took Vivien there to show her a possible source for remnants.  She and I also went to North Shields for lunch to a very quiet restaurant with a fun lounge area by the bar.  



Where did / do you like to hang out?

Library Books

We've been away the last three weeks to France in the motorhome.  As usual I didn't advertise our absence on this blog.  I will of course be writing about our time in and around Paris, but first I will mention the stack of reading material I took.

Vivien had saved up and given me a bunch of the magazine inserts from her Sunday papers.  I really enjoyed reading those.  Truth be known, those are always my favourite parts of the newspapers.  Frivolous of me, I know.  I also took a box of pages ripped from magazines over the past 15 or so years filed under 'General interest'.  These were less enthralling but I'm not sure why...may be that my interests have changed.  

From the new library in Whitley Bay, I took all that I was allowed.  I love the new machines where you swipe your library card and then put the stack of books on a shelf under the scanner.  It can read through all the books and print a list of items in the stack along with the due date!  This has probably been around for ages in lots of other places, but this is the first I've encountered it here and I think it's too fun!

Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris

 



I got all the way through several books:


The Gentleman's Daughter, by Amanda Vickery.  I have to agree with the single review listed in this link.  This was published before Vickery's other book, Behind Closed Doors and is not nearly as easy or entertaining a read.  It is very much a research book and some chapters were more difficult to absorb than others.  There was, however, some very interesting information in these pages and I found it worth persevering.

If Walls Could Talk:  an intimate history of the home, by Lucy Worsley.   This is another presenter on BBC who specialises in historical material.  We always enjoy her shows and that was the main reason I picked this book.  I was right, Bill read it cover to cover.  I was astounded that she was able to write so much and not duplicate the material - at least that I recall - in Bill Bryson's book, At Home:  A short history of private life.

I found it interesting that Worsley quoted Vickery and they both quote Thorstein Veblen!  I felt quite at home in both their books.

Debts of Dishonour, by Jill Paton Walsh.  Since JPW's books about Peter Wimsey are by far my favourite over those written by his creator, Dorothy L. Sayers, I pick up anything she's written.  Even though this book was set in modern day Cambridge, I do find her writing style feels quite old-fashioned - in a good way.

How to Read Fashion, by Fiona Ffoulkes (yes, that's two 'f's).  It may be a serious fashion textbook given that it explains what history period various designers referenced in which of their collections, but I viewed it as a fun little book full of beautiful photographs...and maybe even half a dozen items I could imagine wearing.

The rest of the books I just dipped in and out of and will have to re-check them to get finished.

How to Use, Adapt and Design Sewing Patterns, by Lee Hollahan.  

Sew Step by Step, by Alison Smith.  This is one that Vivien's husband gave her for Christmas and she recommends it.

Troublesome Words by Bill Bryson.  This reads very like a dictionary and I didn't get far.  It was interesting in the way that I used to get distracted in the dictionary, looking up a word and finding loads of others so fun to read about I would sometimes forget what word I'd originally sought.  Most of the few entries I read in this book were not problematic for me, but I'm sure that when it comes to conjugating certain verbs I'll find plenty to be embarrassed about.  As if 'it's instead of its' isn't bad enough.

A Force to be Reckoned With:  A history of the Women's Institute, by Jane Robinson.  I have struggled with this book, but am determined to be able to report on it to the WI sooner or later.  I read in the cover that it was supposed to be funny and that may be part of the problem, my not fully appreciating British humour.  Also, she writes in detail at the beginning about many other women's groups back in the late 1800s / early 1900s that were not to develop into the Women's Institute, even though some may have had those words in their name.  The way she tells it, and I'm sure she's correct, it's a miracle that the WI ever did get started up here in Britain given (a) it was a Canadian institution to begin with; (b) rural people were skeptical of new things; (c) women didn't have the vote and they didn't do much without their husband's permission; (d) rural men were particularly skeptical about their wives getting 'educated'; (e) there were strict class divisions and the idea of pulling everyone from all classes together was very unusual and - shock - it might not be the vicar's wife who was elected President.  I haven't got much further than the very bare beginnings, so I'm hoping that it picks up from here on.

Do you take lots to read when you are on vacation?

Part XXXVIII - Modern Economic Institutions

This is a series about a book, Theory of the Leisure Class, published in 1899.  Its author was an American economist named Thorstein Veblen.  Chapter Nine was titled The Conservation of Archaic Traits

Veblen likes to categorise people and institutions, but I suppose this habit goes hand in hand with formulating theories and the like.  As mentioned before, he groups people and their temperaments, work and its respectability, into two groups, which I've attempted to summarise with the words he applies to each.

Savage	Barbaric
Working class	Leisure class
Peaceable	War like
Common good	Individual good
Workmanship	Conspicuous waste
Industry	Conspicuous leisure
Vulgar work	Honorific exploits
Production	Ownership
Industrial	Pecuniary

I’m currently  re-reading Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South.  One of the characters talks about Labour and Capital.  These terms also fit neatly into these groups. 

Veblen describes modern businesses as being either industrial or pecuniary; the aptitudes required and training received differ widely between the two. 

He begins by describing how pecuniary pursuits foster the predatory character, which we’ll see in a moment.  As to the working classes, those occupied in the manual operations of production, their life is not habituated to ‘the emulative and invidious motives of the pecuniary side of industry.’  They think more about the ‘coordination of mechanical facts and sequences’.  For them, their education and selection moves them in the direction of the ‘non-invidious purposes of the collective life… therefore, it hastens the obsolescence of the distinctively predatory aptitudes and propensities carried over by heredity and tradition from the barbarian past of the race.’

However,

“Entrance to the leisure class lies through the pecuniary employments.”

Pecuniary employments conserve and cultivate predatory aptitudes and motivations both through education and through elimination of unsuitable individuals.  Habits of thought are shaped by the competitive process of acquisition and tenure, by the ownership of wealth, by management and financiering; and this shaping accentuates the predatory temperament.  If in earlier days ownership was achieved by forcible seizure, Veblen goes so far as to say that in modern times  

“…the pecuniary employments give proficiency in the general line of practices comprised under fraud…”

If at the top of business are found the ‘captains of industry’, the administrators of acquisition and ownership, lower down we find those involved with the more mechanical involvement with the details of production and organisation, the subordinates of a ‘less “practical” turn of mind — men who are possessed of a gift for workmanship rather than administrative ability.’

The thought has just crossed my mind about what the supposed classical education young men received at the Oxbridge colleges had to do with sharp business practices.  Of course, the classics probably are a sideline in modern times, and in any case, Veblen was probably writing with the American aristocracy, the Astors, the Vanderbilts, etc., in mind, not so much those in England. However it also came to me that ‘knowing one’s place’ could also mean knowing that one belonged on top of the heap and how to stay there…

Movie Costumes

My friends and I were planning our next day out and I remembered a leaflet I'd seen about a costume display at Woodhorn Colliery Museum in Northumberland.  One doesn't normally associate such things with a coal mining museum, but I guess they are branching out.  It had to do with textiles, so I figured I would enjoy it.  Lucy, Vivien and I were joined by a former colleague for the day, Ros.  

Its funny how different people are in retirement or even in semi-retirement.  I perceive people as more relaxed of course, but one sees a completely different side that was perhaps always there but hidden.  I found myself telling Ros I wasn't particularly star-struck, my motives for wanting to see this were more about appreciating clothing design and the craftsmanship, not to mention the luxurious fabrics (even if I couldn't touch them).  At some point after reading the titles of some of my best loved films I had to admit that perhaps I was a bit star-struck.  

I think we all were taken with how tiny Helena Bonham Carter was or surprised Hugh Grant wasn't as tall as we expected.  But at some point when the costumes weren't ones I could imagine wearing myself, it wasn't just the textiles but the stars who had worn them, the amazing stories the films told, the number of people who had been taken into another world watching these costumes.  That was a different feeling to the one I had at the beginning.  

On the whole, I prefer the part where I dream of wearing or - even better  - making one of those lovely dresses.  I hope you enjoy the photos.

The Duchess.  I think Vivien has loaned me this film before.  I know I've read the book, which I would highly recommend.  I've long been fascinated by the Devonshire's.  This film is about Georgiana, the wife of the 5th Duke.  She did have a rather amazing and peculiar life.  The 11th Duke married Deborah Mitford, and you know I'm mad about the Mitfords. 

Hamlet. I can't say I'm particularly a fan of Laurence Olivier, but who hasn't heard of him?  I look at this jacket and see Chanel, with all her pearl necklaces!  

Worn by Lawrence Olivier

It's been years since I saw Room with a View.  Must look that up again.

Worn by Helena Bonhan Carter

The King's Speech.  Helena Bonham Carter gets to wear some of the best clothes!  This dress, worn by HBC as the wife of George VI, was Vivien's favourite of them all.  I must admit I wouldn't mind wearing it either, only I'd make it just below knee-length and shorten the jacket in proportion.  It's the flounce at the neckline and the drape of the jacket collar I love best.

Worn by Helena Bonham Carter

Young Victoria.  Bill bought me a box set with The Queen, Young Victoria and The Kings Speech for Christmas.  He nearly didn't get a word out of me for the next week, I watched them over and over. This film makes me almost like Victoria, but not quite.  Like Elizabeth I, she dealt with a lot before coming to the throne.  She may have been a different woman had Albert not died so young; as it was, she was quite irrational and I can't forget that the Irish famine occurred during her reign.  Still, it's an enjoyable film.

Worn by Emily Blunt and Rupert Friend

Howard's End.  This was my favourite dress of the lot.  Not that I'm that big on the military look, just that the wool fabric was heaven and I loved all the complicated tucks and the covered buttons. The skirt had its own tucks and the back of the jacket was beautiful as well.  This was the sort of thing I came to see.

Worn by Emma Thompson

The cut of the jacket looked quite flattering as well.  

Even the darts are tucks!

You can see I was quite taken with it!

Sense and Sensibility.  It wasn't very long ago that I watched the film again and then read the book again just after.  Seems a silly thing to do, but it is a great story and it was fun to find the few bits where the two didn't match.  This isn't my favourite of the costumes.  I love the little pinafore / apron that Emma Thompson removes after gardening, in preparation for a momentous visit...

Worn by Emma Thompson

Worn by Hugh Grant

Death on the Nile.  I've not seen this film. Apparently Bette Davis wasn't impressed with shooting on location and the early screen calls:  

"In the older days, they'd have built the Nile for you. Nowadays, films have become travelogues and actors stuntmen."  

I kind of like that jacket, though, weird as all those buttons are..

Worn by Bette Davis

Shakespeare in Love.  I have this film, too, and re-watch it occasionally (happy to loan it to you Vivien!).  Judi Dench won an Oscar for Best Support Actress in her role as Queen Elizabeth I, which I thought was remarkable considering the brevity of her part, though I'm not arguing the strength of her performance.  Sandy Powell won an Oscar for her costume design.  Seeing this dress I can't help but think Powell helped Dench win her award, it is so phenomenal.

Worn by Judi Dench.

Elizabeth.  I'll tell you another thing that's phenomenal and that is that I've never seen this film, not in its entirety.  Right, I've just come back from adding it to my wish list.  Seeing another film about Elizabeth, Young Bess, at an impressionable age led me to read all about Henry the VIIIth and Elizabeth I and sparked my fascination with British history.  

Worn by Cate Blanchett

Worn by Joseph Fiennes.

Grand as this and the other QE gown is, I'd rather wear Joseph Fiennes' leather jacket!

If you like this sort of thing, there are any number of websites about movie costumes.  I happened upon this one in writing this post.  And I followed this one for a long time.

After doing our tour, we played a bit in the children's section, well, Vivien and I did.  They had great stencils to trace and fabulous dress up boxes, one for girls and one for boys.  Vivien posed behind one of those cardboard costume things, but she'd not thank more for sharing that photo, I'm sure!

 Worn by very lucky girls!!!