Gillian Polack's Blog, page 241

gillpolack @ 2011-07-11T07:12:00

Did I forget to tell you that my BiblioBuffet column was posted last week, with me en route somewhere exotic? I think I did. My 4 July article was an interview with Elizabeth Chadwick and Sharon Kay Penman. I can't recall what I wrote for next week - fortunately my editor is more reliable than I am and it will appear regardless.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-11T06:22:00

You know you're tired when a bag of chips and a flapjack (not the flapjacks I know) and a half pint of ale is just fine as dinner. I was going to spend this evening listening to folk folking, but now that I've consumed my repast, I'm doing housework and winding down and intend to spend a long time in bed. I fended off a migraine sucessfully earlier (Hairy Lemon is my friend) and dealt with the post-migraine wilt by sitting on some twelfth century wall til it passed. I'm not the only migrained person round and I escaped lightly.

My bus companion for the Fountains journey has one of the best research projects I've ever heard. I'm hoping she'll publish quickly, so that I can write about it and teach it. It's groundbreaking, but it's also dead exciting. I can't wait.

She is currently resarching in the Cevennes and gave me some very handy advice for Montpellier, including the (sadly obvious, but I hadn't considered it) way of solving one of my thorniest problems for the novel.

I have bought some books and will send them home from the IMC, which has a book posting service. The less I have to cart around, the less my health will interfere with my trip. One of the books I have is a book I encountered last docotrate and have yearned over ever since. I have dreamt about it and its companions on a Paris bookshelf. I couldn't afford it in 1986. Now it's mine! I do think some of my friends will abscond with it if they encounter it.

Some of the second hand books (for today was the day of the second hand) were rather expensive (and a couple had special Leeds prices, I suspect) but there were some very good deals, too. I spent about $65 and got my dream book, a reproduction Haggadah for my slowly-growing haggadah collection (I suddenly realised I had one, when I saw this - it's only 7 Haggadot right now, but 3 of them are cool facsimiles, so it's a quality set) and three very handy summaries of Medieval records. All primary sources. The modern books were either overpriced or easily available back home and I couldn't really justify the 19th century books.

There may be more books in my tomorrow as Ashgate and Oxbow and other cool suppliers of scholarly addictions set up. I am spending my birthday money on postage. This means, of course, that friends who gave me birthday presents have special visiting rights for my books.

Now I'm getting a bit silly.

Tomorrow is much longer than today was. Papers galore (not mine) and a pigment workshop and a reception. Maybe it's just as well I have various stuffs to quietly accomplish tonight (sort camera, wash clothes, do some paperwork) - I may need this quiet time. The hairy lemons beckon (and Cat Sparks - I so owe you for intrudcing me to them).

gillpolack @ 2011-07-10T18:20:00

This is calm before storm time. One of the people in Leeds I want to see is unable to be contacted (largely because I don't have a phone number and my emails are not behaving) but apart from that, things are going swimmingly. I hae an hour before everything starts, and once it starts, it won't stop until Friday. If I get quiet interludes, I'll blog.

There is a blogger meetup at Leeds, but it clashes with something else, so I'll only be there for a bit of it. And I still haven't finished revising my paper! (It was all finished, and now needs revision - this is the nature of life.)

Fountains Abbey this afternoon. I so intend to emerge educated from this journey.Also, I had a half-baked tjought for my dissertation over breakfast (I'm living UK time and thinking Aussie time - 5 pm is a good time for thoughts, breakfast isn't so good for that) but have put the thought back to bake a little more. What I need is a novel that has exceptionally real-feeling accounts of the Middle Ages that don't draw upon popular assumptions and tropes and one that is all about assumptions and tropes and repeating the familiar. I need to read several novels and play 'spot the assumption' (a charming game, suitable for all the family).

gillpolack @ 2011-07-10T06:35:00

I am full of Chinese takeaway and local cider. In between the food and the alcohol, I discovered that the IMC will send my books to Australia for me. The firm that's doing it is a favourite shopping haunt of mine already, and have very reasonable prices (both for books and for the postage thereof). This makes it much easier to buy books and means that I have luggage space for other important things.

I've volunteered for a couple of hours doing stuff tomorrow. Everyone was so exceptionally kind to me tonight. Leeds has the atmosphere it has because of the people who run it, I think - warm, funny and good company. (Rachel, you will be pleased to know, I gave them all koalas, which is how I ended up with a half pint of cider and a really interesting bar conversation.)

I'm full of warm fuzzy feelings but am not at all witty. Sorry, folks!

Tomorrow I visit Fountains Abbey.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-10T02:53:00

It appears I have wireless computing in my room while I'm at Leeds. I'm typing this in that place, so it must be so. This is because my room is very close to the main block: I'm not complaining! I'm also not complaining about dinner tonight. I'm joining the reggo desk people after they pack up and we're getting Chinese takeaway. Everyone is so welcoming here - ADM was right about it being a friendly conference. This is a bit of a distant location for a campus (and walking past brambles from the bus stop to the accommodation is about as far removed from the Zoo as it gets - though I admit, the Zoo had cherry blossoms) and there are tons of places to eat in town, but catching buses for long rides in unfamiliar terrain alone, at night, has never been one of my favourite activities.

I went to town earlier to find the Armouries and sort out the problems I had with my knight's clothes. They are sorted. I decided that the best approach to today (for I was feeling vulnerable) was to pretend I wasn't shy, and to ask questions and talk with people. Thus I got my armour answers (which weren't obvious from the exhibits) and, in a little, I'll get dinner. I got a sandwich for lunch, using the same amazing technique. And a smile from a dour bus driver when I found the right stop. I feel a bit underdressed, though - I'm wearing just a tank top and pants. UnGillianish, I know, but it was warm and I was celebrating summer and being unshy.

What else do you need to know? that the brambles won't ripen for weeks. That I can't sort out Leeds' architecture. That I have koalas for anyone who comes up to me during the next week and says "You don't know me but I need a koala." That I really ought to check my email.

Finally, the inflammation is going down. Air travel is not good for me - it's taken a week and a half to get halfway down. That's the real reason I'm wearing a tank top. I finally don't look entirely balloonlike.

I love staying in a student room again. It takes me back to when I was a ... wait. I'm a student. I belong here. How odd.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-09T19:06:00

I have 15 minutes free wifi on the train, so I posted the last entry and downloaded my email and now I feel frighteningly well connected.

I had a lovey two days just outside Nottingham. Elizabeth Chadwick let me have free run of her library. She has a lovely library... She also gave me two books. My luggage is getting heavier again, but in a happy way.

My next stop is Leeds. I still havent done that last draft on my conference paper because I was too busy eating fresh raspberries and talking to Regia Anglorum, so that's my afternoon's work, I suspect.

The temperature here today is the same as perth's yesterday. I have this from my supervisor, who has just got my progress report.

And that's it from me! We're stopping at Wakefield and it's important I take a moment to contemplate the Wakefield Plays as we pass through.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-09T19:00:00

I'm in between trains: too hyper to nap and too tired to work. I'm in that transit space between London and Nottingham. Things at the Nottingham end are a bit vague (except I'm being met by friends, so maybe the rest is moot) and I ought to be worried. I'm too tired for that, too. What I'm doing to occupy my mind is looking at travellers and guessing their country or region of origin by their dress and how they hold themselves and – most successfully of all – their capacity to smile. Australians, it seems, are always on the verge of smiling or actually smiling, even when grumpy. They are also the most likely to look like bright young things, which just says something about every Aussie traveller other than myself at St Pancras this morning. I smile, but I'm not a bright young thing. I'm a pastel middle-aged thing. And I'm not in a group. I am, in fact, an un-Australian traveller.
I needed one more day in London to do everything. The key stuff is finished, however, and my research is advanced. I saw all the people I intended to see in London save one. And I'm so tired that baggage-wrangling is exceptionally messy. A kind gentleman came to my assistance on the Tube – he gave me a seat and made sure that the other passengers let me out (they weren't going to) and so I am here, early. I allowed time for everything to go wrong. In Australia this would be cause for a coffee, but I have yet to find drinkable British coffee. The masterclass folks assured me it existed, and gave me instructions, but so far all I have found is liquid soap. Fortunately, Britain does a lot of things exceedingly well and its lack of coffee is a small problem amidst the many goodnesses. Still, I wouldn't mind a decent coffee. (also, I'm wide as a house here, in case you were wondering – this is the upshot of those first few days, which are settling down now – all in all, I'm doing fine, considering how sick I was last year. Some things are, however, just a bit annoying – baggage wrangling and the size of my waistline, for instance.)
Now my train is a mere 45 minutes away and I must see if the platform has been posted. It take me a long time to move my luggage (even though it's lighter than it was a week ago, by about 5 kilos) and these things take planning. When I have a seat, I can do that errant Leeds paper. Last night I unexpectedly ended at a class for Jewish conversion* and did no work. I learned some really cool stuff – the difference between the Babylonian and Palestinian Talmud on conversion issues, mainly, and I want to grab my copy of the Theodosian Code (in Australia, just barely out of reach) and compare the texts and see if my suspicion is right concerning the shape of Judaism in the Roman Empire as opposed to outside the Roman Empire. If you also want to know, prod me in a month.

*This does not mean I'm considering converting to Judaism. The class was a bit sad that I brought raspberry liquorice instead of Tim-Tams, though. Very civilised people who know about timtams!!!

I have now had a nice cup of tea and no longer regret coffee. The train is whizzing me into the north and I can't get over what a riotous season summer is here. My ticket has been clipped (which is more an imprinting than a clipping) and there's water everywhere. One train trip and I understand water meadows somewhat more than I did. Not only is summer riotous, it's wet. Not from stuff falling from the sky (strange feeling, having stuff fall from the sky) but just in general. Australia is a terrifying landscape, by comparison. We think we're the lucky country but I do begin to suspect that some of our fortune is simply hard work. Like my computer right now. Every few keystrokes it opens a new window. It and the train are holding a secret conversation. Time for me to admire the luscious landscape some more.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-07T00:52:00

There are 3 things I really, really, really wanted to do (one of which was visit the Geffreye) but my energies are all kind of faded and I've done the core stuff I came to London for, so I'm detouring via the BL to collect email and post this and then I'm taking an hour and resting before I look at my conference paper again. Tomorrow I'm off to Nottingham. This week has gone far too quickly. (Last night Kirsten and I celebrated my birthday - belatedly- with tea at the Ritz. This decade has started in such style, what with one friend and another.)

Email and phone have become real problems. I emailed my friends to let them know that they would have to leave messages for me at the hotel if they wanted to see me, but so far there are no messages. The work side of things is easy, but there are hiccups in the social side. This is only a problem for two friends – everyone else was at the masterclass or the BSFA function or I managed to get through to elsewise. This means I have no idea if I'm seeing two friends tonight or having a quiet night. Naturally, being me, I want both at once.

The trouble with travelling while not entirely well, is that I really need the down time – adrenaline is not sufficient. Last night finished about 11 pm and that extra hour at the hotel made today much easier. Also, yesterday was the day off I didn't get at the weekend, and I spent it with Kirsten.

We traced the decline and fall and migration of my father's family through walking the streets of Aldgate. Our timing was a bit off, because Bevis Marks was closed by the time we got there, so I never did get to ask the Crucial Family History Question (but Kirsten is going by there today, and may pose it for me). We also reached the Temple Church just after it closed, and so I paid my respects to William through its walls. I have very mixed sentiments about the church itself and the whole precinct, so this wasn't as worrying as I thought. In my mind, I really, really wanted to visit his grave. In my heart, I was relieved I couldn't actually go in.

I've done so much and reported so little. I have notes in my notebook and have sorted out some character issues for the novel but surprisingly little of the lifestyle stuff. I'm hoping Leeds and York and France will prove better for this – London museums are more glitzy than 20+ years ago, but have much less of the stuff I need, as a result. In terms of the telling of the Middle Ages (issues of narrative) I am much progressed. This was thanks to the Masterclass and chatting with ADM and with KJ Bishop. I really have a much better understanding of the relationship between our narrative assumptions concerning the Middle Ages and what historians actually know about the Middle Ages and how museums and other public bodies communicate the Middle Ages. There really is a whacking great gulf between the narratives readers expect and the actual history, also a somewhat smaller gulf relation to how the narratives of historians operate. I am, in other words, having a fine time and opening up many cans of worms. I do not intend to close those cans of worms – I'd far rather use them to go fishing.

I have mild identity issues this trip. Not only does everyone underestimate my age by a good decade or so, but I have been mistaken for a local. Given my accent and my clothes (which are declarative today – bright pink t-shirt and socks so that I look most touristlike, which is obviously why I keep being stopped and asked for directions) this is amusing. It empowers me to ask people things myself. This means I actually know where to go next – I think I need to finish here and actually get there.

PS All this time away from the computer means my typing is a lot better. Holidays. I need to take them. Or maybe lock computers away and deny myself access every few days.

gillpolack @ 2011-07-05T01:28:00

If you can read this, you'll know I have finally had time to sit down in a cafe with coffee and wifi and do a bit of catch-up. Right now, for me, it's late Sunday and I'm winding down after the masterclass. I want to detour (before I tell you about any of the rest of it) and say that the masterclass was totally, totally brilliant. People come back, year after year, and I can entirely see why. I'm still thinking about the implications of stuff I've learned. I need to read more of Paul McAuley's work and to re-read the stuff I already know, because two sessions with him have shown me a bunch about the way he works and thinks and also helped me think about how I work, both as a writer and as someone who thinks about writing. I need to read Mark Bould's work, because his insights into how politics and criticism can work together were simply wonderful. I need to sit down with Claire Briarley and talk and talk and talk. And that's just the beginning. All three teachers were great, and so were my fellow students. I want to keep in touch. I want more days.

Apart from new friends and a totally delightful time, what did I get from the masterclass? Contexts, mostly. An understanding of how I fit and who I am and what I can do and that this field is peopled with folks who I respect and like and want to spend more time with and learn from. Some of them even laugh at my jokes.

Every evening after class, we had dinner and then groups of us had drinks. I spend some of my birthday money on cider (for I am a class act) and some of that cider was drunk at the Spaniard's Inn (Turpin territory) and each and every evening was delightful.

Because the days were long and I have worked hard, I'm not precisely perfectly well. Tomorrow I shall exercise one of my options and do a bit less work, which is why I'm writing this blog entry late on Sunday night. You need to know that I'm very, very happy.
I'm hoping I did OK my first night here. I certainly had a fine time. The BSFA people are particularly cool, also very friendly and funny and welcoming. They laughed at all my worst jokes and laughed harder at my best jokes. We talked about lots of things. And some of them have read writing of mine. I hope they enjoyed themselves as much as I did. (I also hope certain Adelaide friends have forgiven me not recognising them when they turned up, entirely unexpectedly!).

If my language is not particularly Gillianish right now, this is due to fatigue. I don't need words tomorrow, although possibly they will return for Tuesday. My updates here won't depend on words, however, but on time. Tomorrow I'm looking at changes in room use and furnishings over time to test a suspicion I have about space and culture and contemplating how to write interior spaces, checking out the BL SF exhibition, meeting ADM, and doing various delayed messages. Tuesday I get a half day off (since I worked over the weekend) and am investigating family stuff and, in the afternoon, following up the room structures with luxury goods (at the V&A). Wednesday I'm checking out everyday materials (the shoes and ships and sealing wax day). Wednesday night I have to write it all up and sort it out, and on Thursday I leave London.

Before then, I have character decisions to make. I have now just 26 days to sketch them, fill them in, work out the stuff of their lives, and begin to sort out plot arcs. Here I have the resources to see if I can push my frameworks further and so here is where this work must be done.

In other words, I've finished my training and am back in research mode. Research and friends and SF and the Middle Ages: July is good and life is better.



I need to update. Getting online is – as so many people say when they travel – easier said than done. It's now Monday afternoon and I switched my program round. This morning I sorted out some of my issues with saints (though not the ones I expected – the exhibition at the British Museum doesn't have the focus I was hoping, but it's still perfectly amazing) and now know exactly which characters need development and their gender and their age and their basic personalities. The British Museum did all this. It means I have a lot of writing up to do late tonight and on Wednesday evening, but it's good stuff. I also sorted out some dissertation thoughts before the Museum, so, although I started early, it was afternoon before I knew it. I haven't done my mundane work yet – that comes between lunch (now) and the British Library.

The British Museum felt very odd. I haven't been there since the Library shifted out, and it was rather strange to be walking through exhibitions here once I used to read Medieval manuscripts. I would feel old because of this, but people kept guessing my age at 35 or 36 over the weekend, so I've decided to ape eternal youth.

There's a lot more I should say – especially how great it is to have met so many LJ friends (and how they're even nicer in person, albeit with more wicked senses of humour) but this is long and I need to do more work.

I still haven't resolved mobile issues. Each one I sort, another comes up. Such is the life of the telephone user…

PS This post was *finally* brought to you by the British Library and its free wifi.

gillpolack @ 2011-06-30T20:38:00

I am here and safe, though not very bouncy. It turns out that my body doesn't much like 26 hours of plane. The hotel is letting me check in early and I shall have a solid rest, to set me up for tonight and tomorrow and the day after and...

The bad nes is that this means I can't see me seeing Cheryl.

I knew I was in London, though, when I read the last of the masterclass books while sitting outside the Golders Green Library. I found it waiting for me, thanks to a kindly loan from a fellow masterclasser.

I am now in an internet cafe, catching up on the bare minimum. I need to crash and I shall crash and when I wake up I shall be...awake.

My moment of wonder on the flight was in the stopover in Bangkok (we had just enough time to walk the legnth of the terminal to get out of the plane and its vicinity, be checked again, and walk back the other way. I got to be polite in Thai. I can't asy much of anything else in Thai anymore (though i can still do odd steps of dances here and there, and those appallingly badly) but it's nice to know I can be polite in one language, at least.

I plan to keep a computer log this month, so don't panic if I don't blog every day (because that depends on time, energy and computer access) - you will find out the interesting things.

I typed a scad more, but it has mysteriously disappeared, so I will leave you with the entirely practical thought that the route into Europe took me over every single one of my ancestral areas, from Kishinev to London. Also that, even on strike, British border security people are fiendly and efficient. I'm afraid the nice lady letting me into the country and I were both guilty of smiling and joking.

I go to sleep! Also to unpack!!