(Before I start.I would really like it if you commented and put forward your opinions on this topic)
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No one owns art. I feel like the only accessible art form in 2020 is music and film. To most the books are left to collect dust on a high shelf’s out of reach to many and great paintings are ruined by the coffee stains of the class divide. Literature like classical music and fox hunting seems to be a possession of the higher classes. Believe it or not I don’t hate the church. The elite built me aside from school and my parents I was raised by the church. The psalms of the bible and the verses of the hymns helped me create poetry and write prose. The summer clubs helped tutor and nurture me. However I wasn’t on the same level as them. My mother dusted the pews and scrubbed the toilets whist the conservative Christians preached the pure word of God towering above us on their high podium.
At school I was always degraded siting in a third set English class I was bitter , but I made friends I will never forget despite walking along the narrow tightrope that was the poverty line. Clutching a pen for balance , one slip and I would of tumbled to my doom. Perhaps I already have. in fact I know I have. What I write is in vain , they will spit on my grave.
Survival of the fittest is interwoven into our society despite anyone taking into account the middle classes head start at the game. Yet to say this puts a black mark against your name. Artwork is too expensive to buy for many , words to extravagant to understand. , and if your a woman who tires to challenge this you may as well thump your fists against a brick wall until they are bloody and bruised , but perhaps I’m biased. No one owns art. That’s all their is to say.
A couple of days ago I was kindly nominated to do the ten feelings tag. However Im lazy a shit and couldn’t think of ten so heres five of my favourite feelings!!
1. My first favourite feeling is walking on the beach. In the scorching heat were getting in scotland theres nothing better than walking beside the calming water or chilling on the sand.
2. My second Fave feeling is spending time with loved ones. Wither its playing a game of cards with your mum or having a BBQ with your boyfriend. Nothing makes me more happier !!
3. For my third favourite feeling it has to be online shopping (or normal shopping which we’re sadly not aloud to do at the moment. ) There’s no better feeling than getting a Pretty Little Thing Package arrive at your door with lots of goodies inside. As vain as it might be Im a shopaholic.
4. Music. This has to be my forth choice I love to boogy!
5. My fifth choice has to be indulgences. Tucking into punnet of ice cream , smoking a wee bit weed while the sun goes down , having a cider on the beach. We all love a pit of pleasure in moderation.
1.The first book I have to mention is Masie goes to Morningside. I loved the Masie series when I was a child. Eileen Paterson was an idle to me and I believe my life and literary skills were moulded by her. I remember when I was five or six , sitting cross-legged on the worn out carpet in the hall above the library with a handle full of other children listening to Eileen reading the newest Masie adventure.
2. Hetty Feather has to be my second choice. Not only does it sound the same as my name or the fact my Nana gave it to me but for some reason this book holds a special place in my heart. I think Jaqueline Wilson books are underrated. As a pre teen I loved devouring her easy to read books with female protagonists but Hetty Feather Definitely stood out to me. Not only does it have similarities with the classic Jane Eyre but even on its own the book has a good story line. Based In the Victorian era we follow Hettys horrific journey as she is ripped away from her comfortable foster family and beloved brother Jem and dumped into a workhouse where she experiences many horrors.
3. A third choice for me is Goodnight Mr Tom. I studied this book in school. The story as a whole is a very warm one. When an evacuee is sent to live with Mr tom he gradually starts to grow into a healthy boy. Until he is sent back to London and to his neglecter mother. However, Mr tom manages to safe him.
4. The Woman In Black. I studied the woman in black at school for my National 5 English. It brings back fond memories for me. Sitting for hours analysing this novel and picking it apart. This book contains many themes such as loss, the battle between good and evil and fear.
5. Black and Blue. I read this book as a 16 year old when I was in a really dark place and for some reason the grittiness and reality of this crime novel resonated with me.
6. Jane Eyre. As an adult now 19(nearly 20) this classic love story connects with me. You feel Jane’s pain and isolation. As she suffers under the harsh hand of her aunt and cousins to then losing her friend at Lowood school. And then the passionate love affair.
Quarantine is boring and stressful. So Ive created a list of ten things to do to pass the time !!
- Watch TV ! Currently I making my way through the Twighlight series and Skins (both on netflix) If you dont know what to watch ask a friend or wiki a film or tv program. The Stranger and Safe are also very good.
- Listen to music. I enjoy anthing from Calvin Harris to A Day To Remember everyone needs a wee rock now and again.
- Have a smoke. Sit out in your garden and watch the world go by while inhaling nicotine (or something else) theres nothing more peacful.
- Pamper yourself. Go for a warm relaxing bath , paint your nails , wax your booty I dont know.
- Take a walk. I live by the coast and theres nothing more soothing than a walk along the shore.
- Read a book. Now is the perfect time to make your way through the classics or a good thriller. Currently Im devouring Jane Eyre. Theres nothing better than the imagery Bronte creates.
- Go on social media. Every one likes a good snoop now and then.
- Make a cup of tea. Theres nothing a good hot brew cant solve.
- Bake. I love baking even though its really unhealthy. Crack out the cooking book and whip up some biscuits or bannana loaf.
- Spend time with loved ones and try not to panic. These times can make you idle and uptight but you just have to remember it ends one day and all we can do is make every moment count as best as possible.
If I am being brutally honest with myself I would call myself a failure. I dropped out of school aged 16 which in some peoples eyes makes you only useful for collecting bins or scrubbing toilets. My grammar isn’t up to scratch my writing misspelt and disorganised. Would I preach to the gods that this is the best way to live your life. No I wouldn’t. Poverty is brutal and takes its tole on you. If you want to spend your life on the couch watching Come Dine With Me and Primark hauls and hanging around the bus station all day filling your lungs with god knows what to numb your reality out then by all means follow in my foot steps.
If you want to drive around in a BMW and go shopping for fruit in Waitrose. Then maybe stay in school. However I suppose our experiences make us who we are. I for example am probably a chav who roams the streets in a hoodie and leggings. I am the definition of slipping through the net. Although I’ve made good friends and art from the depths of hell which would never have happend if I didn’t make the choices I did…. I suppose.
Perhaps In some ways failure is good for us It makes us more humble. It gives us a different perspective. You look at a homeless person on the street and instead of judging them your like Jesus Christ Im one away from being them !! And hastily hand them your months benefits (Jks)
Just go easy on yourself If you find yourself at the job centre your among thousands of people in the same boat. Dont live alone with your fear of failure.
1.sometimes people are wrong. Wither its your parents or proffesionals sometimes it better just not to listen.
2.Stay In School No matter how hard it gets. When people say you’l regret it you honestly will. Dont give in to opression. As the quote goes education is our greatest weapon.
3 Avoid psyciatric hospitals at all costs. You know when you hear about writers being depressed its kinda a sterotype.Honestly being admited to hospital will make your health so much worse as no one wants to be degraded and treated like shit the way they do in hospital.
4.Its ok not to be ok- Sometimes you have to give yourself a break. No ones perfect and you probably are doing your best. Minus the breakdown.
5.Remember who the real enemy is – You may have had a bad experience in life that turns you bitter. You may look for someone to blame your family , your friends , yourself. You have to remember that its not these peoples fault. Its just the fascist society we live in. If anything its moneys fault because the world revolves around it.
6.Go easy on the chocolate – As nice as it is. You will gain weight.
7.Smoking isnt always bad – All you see over the packets of ciggerettes are warnings not to do it. Honestly though I think smoking has helped me. It helps mask panic attacks , gets me to go outside more which elievates depression , helps me mentain my weight and can be used as inspiration. Most of my ideas for poems and prose pieces have happend over a fag. To be honest I wish Ide started it sooner.
8.Its hard being a young woman – I know. Its hard being a woman. Its hard being second best. If your poor and a woman its hard being like 10th best. Try and do things that empower you and help convince you your not just scum of the earth. Read books by female authors watch films with female actresses , listen to music sung by females. Go to clubs with other woman. Just know that we all feel the same.
9.ts Natural to worry about the future – Will I ever get a job? Will I be a bad mother? Will my partner leave me ? Its natural
10.Dont let other people bring you down – This kinda ties into my first suggestion. Dont listen to nasty people. Dont listen when your called a bum , dont let it get to you when people at the Job centre look down their snots at you. You are great, you are you!!!
Ann lay with the sheets pulled up to her noes so that it covered her cheeks which were numbed from the cold. The darkness hung around her the silhouettes of what little objects she possessed lit up by a stream of pure light that slunk through a gap in the lace blinds that covered her window. She reached out running her slim fingers over the shaped holes in the yellowed material. A musty smell cast off them filling her lungs and making her splutter her throat burning. When she was little she’d had, the same sounding cough a great whooping one, one that made her father awaken from his sleep in the dead of night and run through to her bedroom to see if she was alright. Coughs weren’t the same when you were a child, it could have been scarlet fever or polio it sent her father into a state. If she ever had one he would run himself down accusing himself of not feeding them well enough, when in reality it was never the fault of an individual. Now her cough came from the city smog, the pollution off the factories that stuck to your skin and hair or the damp that grew from the walls where she was housed.
She rolled over, turning her back to the light and staring into the pitch black. She could feel the cold nip at her legs as she lay in only her thin vest, the thick blanket over her shoulders the only thing covering the vulnerability of her bare flesh. Not that long ago she had lay in this bed with another body whose strong arms had wrapped around her chest and whispered bliss into her ear with his warm sweet breath. She had caved in, in those moments safe in a gentleman’s arms. Just outside had lay the cruelty, poverty, decay and the selfish desperation of her fellow humans. Survivors only at the expense of another. No. She wasn’t good. No number of acts could make her pure. As no human was. We are simply animals run on fear and instinct, poisoned and diluted by intellect. No one individual was evil. Only a society could be that. A facade of the masses that hid the cruellest acts of torture, oppression, and evil in plain sight.
That night had been a one-night stand with a high ranked man in the forces. Not a working man from the pit or the site. He was not one who would be drinking in a pub around her bit. He wasn’t their “kind”. He had fair skin and hair along with clean manicured figure nails, and polished boots. A white-collar boy. He’d lured her to him. Slid up to her at the bar and made her laugh easily. Had her in the palm of his hand from the first sentence. It made her feel special that he’d picked her. She was nothing. He’d paid for her drinks and joined her at her table filling her with lager shandes after a Friday shift. They’d chatted and laughed for hours about the cold weather, his work and politics. She wasn’t very aware of politics. She’d heard rumours of the suffrage movement going on in the cities although had not seen much in the newspapers they tended to ignore it, didn’t like to give it the attention even if it be negative treated it as a disease they feared would spread. Here in a small industrial town most woman lived in the dark over the topic. She knew her older brother voted liberal the party in power at present. And whenever he talked about it he would swear a lot. This man was a member of the conservative party and said for a fact there was to be a war. She’d dismissed it as guff. They’d never be a war. Not now with all the new technology, bombs and artillery they had nowadays. They weren’t that stupid. They’d kill us all. At eleven the pub was closing up and they had been thrown out by the barman with the other late-night stragglers. A group of men from the pits, a lone chubby man, and a thin ragged alchy. Outside the rain had been pissing it down and they’d made a spur decision to seek shelter at the bookies. He’d placed a bet on one of the horses in her name chucking on ten pound the equivalent of three months’ wages. “It will win” he’d announced. He’d a confidence and asserted way to him she’d marvelled at. He held himself up straight. There seemed to her no doubt that plagued his mind. Not like them here where they doubted themselves constantly wither they could put food on the table or heat their frail bones, constantly straining to not sink to the bottom.
I’ve never done a TBR before and I thought perhaps now would be a good time to start as where getting into autumn and can get excited about so many horror stories. So get your cup of tea and cosy blanket and curl up with some really good books.
The first book on my list is :
THE WOMAN IN BLACK – I studied this book at school and would love to reread it and do an analysis of it for you. The story follows Arthur kips a soliciter who goes to settle afairs at Eal Marsh house. However he does not know that the house and town is haunted by The woman In black who lost her son and now kills other peoples children to seek revenge.
DRACULA – This is just a clasic that I would love to read as I know so little about it.
JANE EYRE – Im currently in the middle of reading this book and just like dracula it is a classic. It was also written by the greatest woman author of all time. Ive read it once before and cried at parts thats how muich emotion it stirred up in me.
Thats it for my autumn TBR. reveiws of these books should be going up on my blog soon !!
1. I love irn bru diet and full fat
2. I love Edinburgh the city of literature and am lucky to live right next door to it.
3. I love batters sasuasage and chips from the chippy ( Can’t beat it)
4. I love the Edinburgh dungeons and the Edinburgh museum especially the veiw you get for the veiw top terrest.
5 I LOVE our literature we still hold top place in the world I love scottish poetry especially Norman MaCciah and Robert Burns.
6 I love how friendly we are how you can go out for a drink and get chatting to anyone
7 I love the fourth just walking along tbe beach starring out into the forth is the closest you will get to heaven.
9 I like shortbread and fudge and tablet and haggis all the stereotypical foods.
10 I love Hogmany and burns night