My last scribbles about St James were posted on 29th December but I managed to fulfil my promise to Duncan to deliver my triptych by the end of the year, on the 31st; phew! He’d organised a few bottles of Nozeco, a French non-alcoholic bubbly which is quite good, and that got around the issue of The Hope Café not having a licence to serve alcohol. As it was the end of the afternoon he’d asked a few of the Hope regulars to come along; Teresa was providing some Brazilian nibbles.
Apart from Mo, Robert and Anna, Sami was there but without Lisa, who was working on a piece for The Argus about Tony Bloom, the owner of the city’s Premier football club, who was awarded an MBE in the New Year’s Honours List and couldn’t make it. Libby had come in specially and brought her niece Susie, who’d just returned from Melbourne and was looking suitably jetlagged. Kate was manning the counter. I had been in the day before, marked the wall where the triptych would hang and banged six nails in, two for each canvas.
“So Richard, can we see it?” asks Duncan and I reach into my bag and put the three frames on the wall above the bench seating.
“Normally everyone takes photographs or paints the rows of beach huts along The Promenade from the sea side. I thought it would be good for its position on the wall here to take the eye through the rear of the huts out to the sea.”
Without wishing to blow my own trumpet (Note 1) I am pleased with my efforts and it was suitably admired! It was extremely good to see Susie back in the Hope and I went over to catch up. She gave me a big hug and smile.
“Hey! Good to see you; great painting – well done! Funny being back in late December. Everyone looks pale and tired and I’ve been living in the southern hemisphere summer. Why do people live here?” she joked! “Bit worrying about Josh, isn’t it; Libby had told me that on his arrival and, after some very basic training, he joined a unit on Israel’s northern border with Lebanon.”
“Yes. And I read the other day that since Christmas both sides have increased their random shelling and drone flights over the border. Some of the latter have dropped bombs.”
Israeli and Hezbollah skirmishes October and November 2023
“Love the candle on the counter for him; like, very thoughtful. My OE (Note 2) was wonderful but it’s good to be home. Those three months working for Margie in Hobart were challenging and eye-opening, so I’m going to explore opportunities in wholesale catering here. Temporarily, I will be back behind the counter; with Josh away in Israel we’re a little light. Good to meet Kate and hope she stays, although she tells me she thinks she’ll resume her bus driving come the spring.
I really had no idea what New Zealand and Australia are like, you know. OK you can watch documentaries and see television dramas set in either country but it’s not the same as actually being there. It was like, really, like another world, so divorced from Europe although you could see the influence of those European settlers everywhere.”
“Good to have you back and, if you’ll excuse me, I need to catch up with Sami. Maybe I can look at some of your photographs some time?”
“There are only about 1500! Sure. Next week?”
I see Sami chatting to Mo. Perfect, I think, as I want to find out what constitutes a trashy novel, as someone had challenged me the other day, saying I only read ‘trashy novels’, the unspoken jibe being they didn’t as they were intellectually more superior; that’s my perception and could of course indicate a little chip on my shoulder?
“Sami, as far as I remember, when I first saw you in here you were reading the latest John Grisham novel, Judge’s List wasn’t it?
“God! That’s almost two years ago, Richard, but yes, I read his new one each year. I love a good story and I don’t think there’s anything ‘trashy’ about Grisham’s art of creating a believable story.”
“My late father-in-law apparently never read a ‘novel’, trashy or otherwise, preferring books about his professional medical speciality or his passion for the Christian religion. And Mo, you were reading the Act of Oblivion by Robert Harris, which presumably appealed as I later learned you had taught history in a secondary school?”
“Absolutely! Historical fiction is my reading preference but I love watching good dramas on television, providing they’re not violent or horrific. We have been writing stories, imaginary or otherwise, since we understood how to chisel signs or hieroglyphics on stone or slate tablets. My school taught all the Greek classics ……
“Mine didn’t, neither a Homer nor an Ovid …. more’s the pity you might think?”
“…… and their heroes became imbedded into my memory. Clearly, they were important and from them individuals like Marlowe and Shakespeare adapted the basics for their Elizabethan age and sensitivity. Do you know there are only seven story archetypes?”
“Sorry! I don’t understand!” exclaims Sami.
Mo continues: “Christopher Booker argues in his book there are only 7 basic stories: ‘Overcoming the monster’, ‘Rags to Riches’, ‘The Quest’, ‘Voyage and Return’, ‘Comedy’, ‘Tragedy’ and ‘Rebirth’. For example, in the real world ‘overcoming the monster’ could be overcoming an addiction, beating an illness, getting out of debt etcetera.
The joy of understanding stories, through reading them, hearing them narrated or watching some screen director’s interpretation of them is a constant in my life. Their use in teaching morals, for instance in the wonderful book ‘Zen Flesh Zen Bones’ or indeed in the Christian gospels or in the Koran, is widespread. Sadly, for some the joy of reading has never been grasped, either through an inability to read or through a lack of education, but it’s never too late.”
We were in full flow when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Luke, Josh’s partner, come in and speak to Duncan, whose face pales. He announces to us all: “It’s about Josh …..
(To be continued)
Richard 5th January 2024
Hove
Note 1 Way back in the dim and distance past I passed my Grade 5 Music exam playing a trumpet, so blowing my own trumpet came naturally.
Note 2 OE is a New Zealand term for ‘overseas experience’.
postcards 