'I am writing about, I am living in...' - glyn hughes, millstone grit.
'forget everything. open the windows. clear the room. the wind blows through it. you see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don't find yourself.' - kafka, journals, 19th june 1916.
another entirely written in the morning blogpost
(now let's see. where are his notes)
howard's letter has arrived (and very good it is too) containing horsemouth's copy of millstone grit by glyn hughes. as you know this is one of horsemouth's favourite books, and as he rereads it he can see why.
'I am writing about, I am living in...' great way to start.
'the pennines are marked by the more recent, less frequently romanticised brutalities of the industrial revolution.'
howard has, in his usual style, annotated the copy of the book. noting current house prices. and, being from not far away rochdale, noted the points of intersection with his own life.
horsemouth writes about where he is (the golden valley, herefordshire), where he lives (mostly), but he doesn't do it in much detail. you know that he goes attempting to learn bell-ringing, you know that he goes for walks on the common, you know that he sometimes goes down to unlock the abbey, you know that he makes use of the local bus services to visit hereford or abergavenny, you know that he makes use of the trains to visit london (the wen). he has mentioned the chickens, the garden, and such wildlife as he sees.
yesterday, whilst watering the garden, he surprised a frog. hopefully it will eat insects for him (but hopefully after they have pollinated the runner beans and marrows first).
he is away (tomorrow in all probability) up to the wen where, as he has told you, he plans to pack up as much of his library as possible and send it off with his brother to the wild.
mostly he tells you what he is reading and watching, the walks he has taken.
this morning a walk into ewyas harold to pick up a copy of the hereford times (local news and tv guide).
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