8 December 2024

Some books I've read (relatively) recently

A few books I’ve finished over the past few months. All these were books we read in Book Group.

'When Breath Becomes Air' by Paul Kalanithi

Subtitled ‘What Makes Life Worth Living in the Face of Death’. An end of life memoir by American neurosurgeon Kalanithi, who died of lung cancer in 2015 at the age of 37.

Kalanithi’s parents were immigrants from India, who settled initially in New York City before moving to Arizona. Helped by an academically ambitious mother, he got into Stanford where he completed degrees in English literature and human biology. His decision to apply for medical school came while completing a subsequent masters in English literature. While waiting for the medical school application cycle to go through, he applied for and took a degree in the history and philosophy of science and medicine at Cambridge. After this, he started studies at Yale School of Medicine. The man was clearly a born student though I did find myself wondering quite how many years in total he’d spent in college.

Kalanithi’s cancer developed while he was still in residency – which I loosely understand as meaning you’ve left medical school but are still in training. He was in his final of six years as a neurosurgical resident and anticipating graduating at the end of the year. He was thirty-six at this point and married to Lucy, also a doctor. Kalanithi himself suspects that he has cancer “and not the good kind” before it is officially diagnosed. From the CT scans, he is able to spot himself what it is, and that it has already spread.

The second half of the book is Kalanithi’s reflections post-diagnosis, including on the switch to experiencing medicine from a patient perspective. He notes the passing from subject to object, and the becoming a person to whom things happened. There are some reflections on religion and a turning back towards Christianity, probably understandable from a man facing a premature death. I liked that he doesn’t claim to have had epiphanies through having cancer:

Severe illness wasn’t life-altering, it was life-shattering. It felt less like an epiphany – a piercing burst of light, illuminating What Really Matters – and more like someone had just firebombed the path forward.

Towards the end of the book, his reflections on tense are interesting: what tense is he living in now? Should he say “I am a neurosurgeon”, or, knowing that he will never return to duties, “I was a neurosurgeon”? What should he say when friends say that they will see him at some future event? The book ends with some words directed at his baby daughter Cady, who we learn from his wife’s epilogue was eight months old when he dies. Paul’s manuscript, written during the last year of his life, was unfinished, derailed by his rapid decline and death. The epilogue provides context and a concluding chapter to Paul’s story. (The foreword, written by a fellow doctor and author, is turgid – I think if I’d read that first, as I never do, it might just have put me off reading the book.)

This obituary in Stanford Medicine includes a video recording of Kalanithi talking about his diagnosis.

'Hamnet' by Maggie O'Farrell

I read (and enjoyed) this on Mum’s recommendation. It’s a fictionalised account of the childhoods and married life of William Shakespeare (henceforth WS) and his wife, called here Agnes. It’s set in Stratford in the late 16th century and framed (loosely) around the couple’s son, Hamnet, and on his parents' grief following his death.

Hamnet is eleven and has two sisters and lives with his parents on Henley Street, Stratford, next door to his grandparents’ house, where his grandfather John runs a glove-making business. The book opens with Hamnet trying to find medical help for his twin sister Judith, who has been taken ill. Judith has a fever and has developed ‘buboes’ – pale oval swellings under the skin. Hamnet’s mother has a reputation for being able to cure anything with her potions, but struggles to cure this one. In a twist, Judith recovers, but Hamnet falls ill with the plague and dies.

Hamnet’s mother Agnes tends a patch of land at the farm where she grew up. Local legend has it that Agnes’ mother emerged from the forest that bordered the farm, bewitching the farmer, who married her. Local people say that Agnes is a forest sprite and a sorceress. Hamnet’s father met Agnes when he was sent there to tutor the farmer’s sons in Latin. Agnes becomes pregnant, they marry and move in next door to WS' parents in Stratford. In due course, Agnes comes up with the idea of getting her husband to go away to London to find work, with a view to getting him away from his brute of a father; she would then follow him at a later date, with the children. WS’ father John is persuaded that it would be a good idea to expand the glove business to London; in the event, WS does make a great success of working in London, but as a writer leading a touring company of players, rather than in the glove business. WS spends more and more of his time in London, only returning home intermittently. O'Farrell explores Agnes' grief following Hamnet's death, and the shared understanding between the women - Agnes and her mother-in-law Mary have always had a fractious relationship, but both have lost a child, as very many women must have done then. In this fictionalised account, Agnes travels to London to seek her husband, and ends up at the opening performance of his new play, Hamlet.

In an Author’s Note, O’Farrell notes that only a limited amount is known about the Shakespeare family. The names of Shakespeare’s three children are known, and it is known that the boy, Hamnet, died young, but the cause of his death is not known. Having him die from bubonic plague in the novel is a fiction of O’Farrell’s, influenced, she says, by the apparent absence of any mention of the disease in any of Shakespeare’s literary output – her implication being, presumably, that this is odd given the time period in which they were written.

The suggestion in the novel is that WS named his play Hamlet after his deceased son. O’Farrell notes "Hamnet and Hamlet are in fact the same name, entirely interchangeable in Stratford records in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries" and cites this 2004 article The Death of Hamnet and the Making of Hamlet in the New York Review of Books.

Hamnet was published in 2020 and was O'Farrell's eighth novel.

'The Guest' by Emma Cline

Ruth’s choice for our November Book Group book. We read Cline’s first novel The Girls in 2018 and I thought that was well written and atmospheric.

The story opens with a young woman, Alex, swimming in the sea off a beach somewhere “out east” from New York City – we don’t know where, exactly, but it’s somewhere where rich people have second homes. She is there with her older boyfriend, Simon, who invited her there for the summer to amuse herself while he’s working and then to go to parties with him in the evenings. Alex is 22, Simon in his fifties.

It quickly becomes clear that Alex has got herself into a bit of a mess back in NYC – she seems to routinely pilfer other people’s painkilling (and possibly other) medication, she has run up bills on various men’s credit cards, restaurants and nightspots have blacklisted her, her flatmates have thrown her out for non-payment of rent (and pilfering their meds). What she does for a living is not entirely clear but she appears to be some kind of escort, though work has tailed off and she’s had to reduce her rates. We never discover anything about her background or why she is in the position of doing this kind of work. She’s being persistently chased, via voicemail and text, by an ex, Dom, from whose apartment she has stolen drugs and cash.

One evening Alex and Simon attend a party at the home of an acquaintance of Simon’s, where Alex gets drunk and makes up to the hostess’ younger husband, whom she teases to throw her into the swimming pool, which he does. Simon takes exception to this sort of behaviour – and to the fact that Alex dented his car the previous day and didn’t tell him – and buys Alex a train ticket back to the city, suggesting that they talk “in a week or so”. Alex manages to convince herself that Simon doesn’t actually want rid of her but just wants a few days’ space, and decides not to return to the city but to find a way to stay in the area for a few days, planning to surprise Simon by returning to his house on the evening of his upcoming Labor Day party. By then, Alex imagines, Simon will have calmed down and be pleased to see her again. Alex proceeds to inveigle herself into various other houses in the area via making up to a series of complete strangers. In the book’s final scene Alex does, indeed, present herself at Simon’s party as she planned, fresh from the scene of a car crash driven by a troubled teenager she seduced.

Discussing this book, Ali mooted the idea that the ending and the final single-word sentence “Now.” might indicate Alex's death from injuries suffered in the car crash, but that would be too unsubtle a device for Cline, who commendably avoids melodrama, both here and in The Girls. It's enough that Alex has now burned all her bridges, even throwing away her mobile phone on her way to Simon’s, and is now faced with the dawning realization that she has hideously miscalculated.

What is this fascination Alex has with people’s swimming pools? I did wonder whether there was some symbolism being used in the form of the various pools, and of water generally. Early in the story Alex gets carried further out to sea than she intends while floating on her back and manages to rescue herself by swimming parallel to the shore until the current becomes less strong and she is able to return to land. Towards the end of the story, when things are unravelling, there is another incident when sea swimming, but this time Alex mis-times a wave and is thrown to the sand underwater, cutting herself. Early in the story the swimming pools Alex encounters are pristine, well cared for; as the story progresses, one pool is “a little gray”; “the dirty pool, the water probably half beer at this point”; the final pool she encounters is unheated and freezing, the water dirty, “biscuit-colored foam floated on the surface, visible grit settled on the pool’s bottom”. This Guardian review of The Guest does indeed have it that water is used as a leitmotif. So there.

The Guest was published in 2023 and was Cline's second novel.

27 September 2024

Recollections of last year's Lakes trip, before this year's Lakes trip

25 March to 1 April 2023

Trip with Ray to the Lakes in 2023.

Where we stayed

Loughrigg Brow, a large 19th-century house on Under Loughrigg, a narrow winding road that runs alongside the river Rothay to the north of Ambleside. We stayed in the Windermere Suite, one of the second floor flats. The whole house is divided into flats, a number of which are probably holiday rentals. The house contains a lift, for use by the flat owners only. There was a note in the flat about the lift, to the effect that it's proved a complete money pit, breaks down constantly and that basically no one should use it.

We booked the property through Heart of the Lakes, which appears now to be trading as Lakelovers, with whom we have booked our upcoming stay in Ambleside starting tomorrow.

It was a very pleasant flat with a lovely sitting room. The only downside of the flat was the pervasive smell of drains in the ensuite to the twin bedroom, which persisted for the whole week despite my repeatedly chucking boiling water down the bathroom sink as per the instructions in the flat. I had generously persuaded Ray to have the king size bedroom, mainly because the ensuite to that had a bath and he doesn’t have a bath on his boat, and I know he enjoys a bath.

It was an excellent location – Ambleside was a pleasant walk down through the grounds and across Rothay Park; the only downside was the steep walk back up the drive on the way back.

Anticipation!
Loughrigg Brow

First evening

On arrival, we had a poke about the grounds and initially noted that some tree-felling appeared to have been done, before it dawned on us that an awful lot of tree-felling had been done and that the trees appeared to be lying in a more haphazard manner than might be expected had they been deliberately felled. On returning to the flat, I discovered a handwritten note from the owners that we hadn’t spotted initially, noting that the grounds had been devastated by Storm Arwen in late 2021. I didn’t remember the online entry for the property pointing this out – not saying it would necessarily have put me off booking but I had noted the 10 acres of grounds as a plus point, and in practice strolls around the grounds were restricted by the need to constantly shimmy over large tree trunks.

We also lugged our Sainsburys delivery up two flights of stairs. Not to be recommended.

The grounds
Fallen trees

We did walks on all the days except Day 3, which was very wet – though we also got pretty soaked on Day 4. At this time I was still using MapMyWalk to track walks – have now switched to using Strava via my Garmin Forerunner – and couldn’t figure out how to get MMW not to put the annoying mile markers on the map, and also never figured out why it would show part of the route in black. I’ve shared the stats from MMW at the top of each day’s entry.

Day 1: Rothay Circuit out of Buttle

A lovely circuit of Rydal Water and Grasmere. Route taken from Paul Buttle’s 15 Walks from Ambleside and Grasmere, which we found in the flat.

Setting off on the path that leads to Rydal Hall
Rydal Water from the Coffin Route
Grasmere from our lunch viewpoint
The route

Day 2: Wansfell Pike and Troutbeck

This was the sunniest day of the week. The ascent of Wansfell Pike from Ambleside is quite steep but not scrambly, so I was determined to nail it in an assertive fashion.

On the way up. In typical fashion, Ray had got chatting to someone
Me atop Wansfell Pike

Wainwright does point out that the ‘rocky bluff’ of Wansfell Pike is not actually the true summit of Wansfell. The true summit is a bit of an extra walk away to the NE. At 1597 to W. Pike’s 1581, we weren’t sufficiently bothered about the extra sixteen feet of height to bother walking over to it; plus it looked a bit underwhelming, whereas the views from the Pike are great. (Wainwright does indeed note that the lower Wansfell Pike is a better viewpoint.)

After reaching the summit of Wansfell, we descended its other side down into Troutbeck, where I think we sat on a bench for a bit having something from a café there.

Roadside well in Troutbeck

We walked back from Troutbeck to Ambleside via Robin Lane and later Skelghyll Woods.

Following the path to High Skelghyll Farm
Mossy wall in Skelghyll Woods
These gates again. They intrigue me. Can't find any existing house called Skelgarth.

Back in Ambleside we went for a cream tea at the Apple Pie Café.

Our route:


Day 3: Stock Ghyll Force and Ambleside

It was raining and looked set in for the day. We walked up to Stock Ghyll Force, a waterfall just up behind Ambleside, and then had lunch in a large pub near the main car park. I forget its name but I daresay we might go there again on the upcoming trip.

Looking a bit damp
Rain drove us inside

Day 4: bus to Coniston and circular walk


Extremely wet walk, we got lost at one point and almost missed the bus back due to waiting on the wrong side of the road.

Sticking in a purist fashion to our resolve not to drive in the Lakes once we were there, we took the Stagecoach 505 bus service that goes from the Ambleside bus interchange to the Crown at Coniston. I can’t remember how long the journey took, probably 40 minutes or so what with that stopping thing that buses do.

The Crown at Coniston

As the photos suggest, this was a grey day. On arrival we headed for the lake shore and walked along the lake southwards for a bit, passing Torver jetty where I think we stopped for a snack. We then headed inland across Torver Common to the road. Close to the road we passed the old trackbed of the Coniston Railway, which excited Ray mightily.

Coniston shore
Torver jetty
The old railway trackbed

We probably would have been better to follow the ‘Coniston Avoiding Road’ path back to Coniston village, but instead, to make it a longer walk, we crossed the road and headed up a footpath leading on to higher ground. This involved some very muddy paths and generally boggy ground. We ate our picnic near Torver Beck, which was looking pretty lively, and set out to walk back in the direction of Coniston – which we did eventually manage to do, but had quite a bit of difficulty discerning anything that could be called a path. Just as I was deciding I didn't relish the thought of being out there after dark, Ray decided on a direction and tramped off determinedly, and it did turn out to be the one we needed as we eventually did join a more discernible path.

Muddy path
Torver Beck
Bit lost at this point

Shortly after this wet wall picture, I seem to remember my phone decided it was too wet to continue, hence no further pictures. That probably also explains the straight section on the route map.

The horrible "stile"

We did, thankfully manage to catch the bus back to Ambleside. Our route below:


Day 5: Loughrigg Fell including summit of Loughrigg


This was a walk out of the useful little ‘Low Fells’ book that I’d purchased on our previous Lakes visit in 2020 and, annoyingly, can't now find - reaching the conclusion that I must have left it at Loughrigg Brow. This walk started by walking north along Under Loughrigg towards the A591, then taking the path that leads alongside Rydal Water and ascends towards Loughrigg Terrace. From Loughrigg Terrace you ascend onto the top of the fell.

Walking up Under Loughrigg towards Pelter Bridge
Grasmere from Loughrigg Terrace

A Wainwright book in the flat referred to Loughrigg Fell as “a sprawling, ill-shaped wedge” and as “having a bulk out of all proportion to its modest altitude”. It’s enough to give it body dysmorphia. I wouldn’t quite agree that “no ascent” is involved, but I agree it’s not much in the grand scheme of things. In fairness, Wainwright does concede further down the page that “Everybody likes Loughrigg”.

Heading up onto Loughrigg
The summit
On top of the fell

I can’t remember too much about the latter stages of this walk – the loop in the bottom right of the map below is reminding me that I think we went slightly off route at one point, before getting back on track, no doubt helped by this helpful sign in the wall at one point.

Old golf course possibly around here somewhere

On the way back down we passed a posh-looking house called Pine Rigg. Interestingly, this seems to have been built on the site of a former golf clubhouse.

Wainwright's map showing the road down off Loughrigg
Coming down the lane back to Loughrigg Brow (centre of picture)

Our route:


Day 6: bus to Elterwater and walk back


We took a bus to the village of Elterwater and walked past the lake and along the river Brathay to Skelwith Bridge. From there we followed a path up through a lodge park up onto Loughrigg Fell again and ate lunch by Loughrigg Tarn. Then across the fell and back to Ambleside. Ray had a bit more of a hunt around for the old golf course.

River Brathay above Skelwith Force
Ray down on the viewing platform at Skelwith Force
Loughrigg Tarn
Following a bridleway across Loughrigg Fell
Maybe a tee for the old golf course?

Route of the walk:

We went out in the evening for dinner at the Jintana Thai restaurant in Ambleside.

Last night dinner

Postscript

This was a lovely week. All the days except the Wansfell day were varying shades of grey and dampness, but it didn’t dampen my enjoyment much. The pic below was taken from the sitting room of the Windermere Suite. We had another quick circuit of the grounds and inspection of the tree carnage before setting off home.

Ambleside with Wansfell behind