Sunday, March 08, 2009

All Quiet on the Manchester Front

Been back in Manchester almost a week and I haven't done a great deal. Went to see the Tom Stoppard at the Library Theatre (Rock & Roll) which I enjoyed but I'm not sure I "got" it all. There was a lot of philosophical stuff on Russia and Czechoslovakia (Jane will explain it all to you if you need more information) and I've never been a particular Pink Floyd fan...

Went to MRI (walked there and back - phew!) for a CT scan (to check out the fluid on the lungs issue) but am not seeing the consultant until 22/04 so can't let you know he outcome until then. Presumably though they'll call me if there are any urgent issues. Also went to Christies for my regular check up. Everything fine. Not sure if I told you (and too lazy to look back through the blog) but the growth thing on my tongue disappeared whilst I was in hospital - which means it responded to the antibiotics which in turn means it wasn't cancerous. Hurrah.

Also had a haircut (long overdue). I could virtually sit on it.

Not sure when I'm going back to work. My sick note runs until 20/03 but I'm feeling quite strong so we'll see. I definitely won't go back next week but may go back a week early. But then everyone's telling me not to be over-ambitious. We'll see how I feel next week.

Had various drinks with DD (natch) and also made my first soup. Tomato. Recipe from the BBC. It was really nice (and DD agreed). I recommend it - give it a try.

Booked tickets for the Rufus Wainwright thing and the 3 Bach performances as part of the Manchester International Festival this summer but not managed to get any Bartlett tickets yet. I think that's failure of the booking system though and I'll get the tickets at the box office next week.

I also joined Facebook whilst I was in Swansea but I'm thinking of giving it up because its not that good (IMHO) and I've got this blog which, whilst not exactly interactive (why does no-one comment anymore?), at least lets all my readers know what's going on.

Anyway, that's all. J x

2 comments:

NannyOggandGreebo said...

Perhaps people don't comment on your blog because (a) they are shy (b) feel their comments aren't interesting or (c)can't be arsed - none of which reasons apply to me, dear!

So glad you're feeling stronger and socialising as madly as ever.

Did you go to the Stoppard last night? If so, how did we miss you? Young Batey plus Mr Young Batey et moi all went and I agree with your comments, especially about Pink Floyd. An acquired taste, I suppose. The first act was such a jumbled mish-mash of things, it was confusing and so-o-o-o long. The second act was much better but I shan't be tempted to see it again, unlike Rosencrantz. But always a pleasure to see the Young Bateys.

You make me feel ashamed, you have so many intellectual events lined up.

But don't go back to work too soon, hon. Make sure you're 100% before you return to a life of toil and care.
Love
Nanny xxx

Anonymous said...

What ..you don't get pink floyd phillistines ..that album he thought was ruined with the cow on it was atom heart mother my first ever teenage gig (I has done the hollies and hermans hermits before that) let alone pink floyd gig ...1968 i can never forget as I was 12 and on holiday with a Chechoslavakian girl that August she was absolutley distraught when the Russians invaded ..Jan represented the views of Kundera and his mate the views of Havel ..Jan was Stoppard as in what if I had returned to chechozlavakia.. the music was brilliant I loved the short scenes and the Cambridge intellectual scenes

This guardian review is one of the best I have read...

Tom Stoppard's astonishing new play is, amongst many other things, a hymn to Pan. It starts in a Cambridge garden in 1968 with a piper playing the Syd Barrett song, Golden Hair. It ends in Prague in 1990 with film of a Rolling Stones concert led by Mick Jagger, who was in the Royal Court first-night audience.

And, although Stoppard's play deals with Marxism, materialism and Sapphic poetry, it is above all a celebration of the pagan spirit embodied by rock'n'roll.

In plot terms, Stoppard deals with the contrasting fortunes of two worlds: that of Czech freedom-fighters and Cambridge Marxists. The former are represented by Jan: an exiled Czech who returns to Prague in '68, at the time of the Soviet takeover, and who, although primarily a rock-loving non-combatant, finds himself inexorably drawn into dissidence and Charter 77. Meanwhile the Cambridge left is powerfully embodied by Max: an unrepentant Marxist don, as old as the October Revolution, who is still drawn to "this beautiful idea".

What is fascinating about the play is that there are no easy victories. Jan is no heroic martyr, but an observer more drawn to the subversive band, the Plastic People of the Universe, than to protest-movements: it is only the steady erosion of Czech freedom that turns him into a dissident. Stoppard treats Max's convictions seriously and allows him to score strong debating-points: he is, in fact, the first sympathetic Marxist I can recall in all Stoppard's work.

In presenting two worlds, Stoppard also suggests that, while the Czechs have fought strenuously for their freedoms, we are allowing ours to slip from our grasp. In a crucial second-act dinner-party scene, Stoppard brings together Max, Jan and various representatives of two different cultures. But it is Lenka, an expatriate Czech don who seems to voice his sentiments when she urges Jan not to return, saying "This place has lost its nerve. They put something in the water since you were here. It's a democracy of obedience."

But although Stoppard takes a pessimistic view of an England that seems to have lost any sustaining faith or principles, his play paradoxically finds hope in the liberating spirit of rock'n'roll. Each scene is punctuated by the sounds of legendary groups including the Stones, Pink Floyd and the Grateful Dead. Even though he acknowledges that they have given way to the blander effusions of today, he constantly uses music as a symbol of pagan ecstasy.


But the remarkable thing about the play is that it touches on so many themes, registers its lament at the erosion of freedom in our society and yet leaves you cheered by its wit, buoyancy and belief in the human spirit.

So there you are bebs I give you a stroke ...