Still, it’s not all bad. The Health and Safety course I’m on is taught by an ex-military man, who retains the forces ethos of knocking off early as long as the work is done. We’re finished by 3.00 pm each day, so by 3.30 I’m enjoying the sunshine and a pint of Wensleydale Brewery‘s Semer Water ale at the Bolton Arms, Leyburn, in the gorgeous Yorkshire Dales.
I’m sorry, but it’s time for a personal whinge. I’m going to tell you the story of a particularly painful and ludicrous Army admin procedure.
I’m currently staying in Catterick Garrison in North Yorkshire for my final resettlement training course before leaving the Army. When I booked myself on the course, I also had to arrange for some accommodation. I wasn’t looking forward to it, as I’d had dealings with Catterick accommodation before…
In an earlier post, I was bemoaning the level of aggression, conflict and franchising which dominates the current Lego marketing strategy, after seeing an old Lego advert from a better time.
Here’s that advert again:
Right. I’ve ranted about this before (see The Hate List 13.26) but I’m going to do it again.
The way Lego is currently marketed is a disgrace.
Last week the Defence Secretary Philip Hammond shambolically announced the Future Reserves 2020 white paper, outlining new proposals for the Territorial Army (to be renamed the Army Reserve).
The success of the expanded TA is crucial to the overall changes in the Army. The new size of the TA, increasing by 20,000 from its current 10,000 to 30,000, is supposed to counter the reduction in the regular force from 102,000 to 82,000. On paper, the total number of regulars and reservists remains the same, so that the United Kingdom maintains the same military capability while reducing costs.
The first post in my promised series on Paul Scott is about the Raj Quartet. Not the novels themselves, but their covers. I make no apology for the niche topic. It may be of interest to you if you’re a Scott obsessive, an amateur bibliographer or a book design geek. If you’re none of those things, I won’t be offended if you decide to skip it.
The most frequent argument I have with my girlfriend is over the monarchy: her passionately against, me vaguely in favour, but provoked into a stronger defence by her attacks. The latest outbreak of our perennial debate started with this amusing but flawed diatribe by Tanya Gold in the Guardian.
As republican rants go, it’s one of the least convincing I’ve read.
I want to talk about Paul Scott.
If you’re thinking, “Who’s Paul Scott?” don’t worry. You’re in the typical majority. If I say, as I usually do, “he wrote the Raj Quartet – you know, The Jewel in the Crown,” you might now be experiencing a tiny flicker of recognition. You’ve at least heard of the title, and can guess it’s about British India, but you don’t know any more than that. If you’re a bit older, you might be doing better, remembering the 1984 TV series. But that’s about as far as it goes for most people. Even among the educated and well-read, he’s now faded well into obscurity.
Paul Scott
That seems a shame for someone who was both a Booker Prize winner and the author of an acknowledged masterpiece of historical fiction, the Raj Quartet. Those are the relatively objective claims. Personally, I would add a few more. Firstly, that the Raj Quartet is the definitive literary statement of the final days of British rule in the subcontinent, a time of epochal political and social change, and therefore has lasting significance. Secondly, that he is a writer of astounding psychological insight and depth, on a par with more widely recognised writers of human drama such as D. H. Lawrence. Thirdly, that even his now totally forgotten earlier novels are works of brilliance, worthy of greater attention.
In short, I believe Paul Scott is one of the most under-rated British writers of the 20th century.
Over the next few weeks, therefore, I’ll be writing a few more blog posts about Scott and his works. Please keep reading.
Describing the Mughal system of revenue collection on page 179 of The Cambridge Economic History of India – Volume 1, c1200-1750, Tapan Raychaudhuri calls it:
“a vicious circle of coercion helping to maintain a machinery of coercion.”
Never mind the Mughals; this is as succinct and clear a description of statehood itself as I’ve ever seen. And more accurate every day as the machinery of coercion improves in sophistication and reach.
I haven’t set myself any particular target with regard to the frequency of posting to this blog. I hope I do better than the Desert Island Discs archive on BBC Radio iPlayer though.
