Have read both the above this month and they make a good juxtaposition.
I better start by explaining the title: The Remainder Biscuit.
“O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
They have the gift to know it; and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm’d
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms.” (As You Like It)
It’s an apt title from a speech by Jaques. William Hazlitt in the 19th century elucidated.
“Jaques is the only purely contemplative character in Shakespeare. He thinks, and does nothing. His whole occupation is to amuse his mind, and he is totally regardless of his body and his fortunes. He is the prince of philosophical idlers; his only passion is thought; he sets no value upon anything, but as it serves as food for reflection. He can “suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs”; the motley fool, “who morals on the time”, is the greatest prize he meets with in the forest.“
Robert Hartman wrote his auto b in 1964, when he was seventy. He writes dispassionately about his service in the trenches – an account of immense interest. He writes too about horsemanship – he was in the cavalry. I had not thought about it but cavalry regiments still had horses in the First War. When they were deployed into action the horses were left behind. His book is well written and like opening a time capsule. I am grateful to TB for bringing it to my attention.
Jamie Blackett was born in 1964. He, like Hartman, served in the army and went on to run the family estate in Galloway. He writes in 2018 in the aftermath of Brexit and the febrile atmosphere of Scottish politics. He vents his spleen unconstrainedly – I’d say if you read The Telegraph you will find yourself wholly in agreement with him. But much more of his memoir is about the agricultural cycle on his mixed farm and his observations on nature, conservancy and biodiversity. He lives on the Solway Firth in a house aptly named The House on the Shore. It’s an enticing B&B and I’m contemplating a visit. Can I have black pudding for breakfast, please.
Andy Fairweather Low, a great talent and a longer career as a producer, session musician and backing player on guitar and vocals.
When I had another look at Hartman I found within a letter he wrote to my Father in 1965, thanking Dad for what must have been a complimentary note, and helping to source a copy of “On fishing”. There’s glory for you.
I try and avoid The Daily Telegraph (because I find its opinions tend to be irritatingly predictable) but join you in singing the praises of Jamie Blackett’s book – an easy and entertaining read.