Ringing out the old year and ringing in the new

Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s very popular poem Ring Out, Wild Bells describes a ritual in which the bells in English parish churches are rung at midnight on New Year’s Eve to mark the departure of the old year and the arrival of the new one. 

It is a way of saying both ‘good riddance’ and ‘welcome’!

The words speak for themselves; I find them inspiring but also depressing: new beginnings seem possible, but the golden age he wished for is still not here after 170 years. 

Ring Out, Wild Bells was first published in 1850, the year Tennyson was appointed Poet Laureate. It forms part of his elegy In Memoriam.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

This poem is in the public domain and can be found online in many places, including Project Gutenberg.

The poetry and the poet:

Public libraries past

This is the time of year when people take stock and look both backwards and forwards. This makes it an appropriate occasion to publish articles about the past history of and future prospects for public libraries.

After realising retrospectively how fortunate I was to have had so much good-quality free reading material, I went on to think about the people of the past and wonder what they had in the way of public libraries. 

There is a lot of information about the libraries of the past available online. I now know that the public libraries I used were preceded first by libraries that charged their members then later by free libraries that were established by Victorian social reformers primarily for the improvement of the working classes. 

Predecessors of public libraries
As books were an expensive luxury, for many centuries only people at the higher levels of society had their own private libraries. 

Ecclesiastical, vocational, social and educational establishments also had collections of books, semi-private libraries that only selected people had access to.

Circulating libraries, or lending libraries, were established in the 18th century. It was just the books that circulated: these were not mobile or travelling libraries! 

Circulating libraries were run for profit, so subscriptions and borrowing fees were payable. Although there were costs, borrowing a book was very much cheaper than buying it would have been. By joining a circulating library, even people who could afford to buy books would get a lot more reading material for their money.

John Masefield’s Box of Delights & Terry Pratchett’s Hogfather

This time last year, John Masefield’s Box of Delights was featured.  The story ends on Christmas Eve, which makes it very suitable reading for the holiday season.

Now it is the turn of Terry Pratchett’s festive fairytale Hogfather (1996). 

The Hogfather is a Discworld character. He is similar to Father Christmas: he is a mythical fat and jolly bearded man who wears red and white and brings presents for the good children of Discworld on Hogswatchnight (December 32nd). He travels by sleigh; it is drawn by pigs rather than reindeer though. 

Although some readers say that Hogfather is Terry Pratchett’s best book, it is not at the top of my list: that place is occupied by his books about the Discworld witches!

There is not much in Hogfather that inspires commentary, however I noticed some interesting similarities and common themes and elements in these two very different seasonal stories and decided to list a few of them.

A few common features
A big metaphysical battle is a major theme in both books.

In The Box of Delights the battle is between good and evil; in Hogfather it is between rationality and belief. It is about logic and rules versus magic and mythology.

In praise of public libraries

The previous article mentions the great debt owed by writers such as Terry Pratchett to the public libraries that they used as children. 

They are not alone; public libraries helped to make me what I am today. I briefly mentioned the key role that they played in my early life here; the recently-quoted endorsements have inspired me to cover the subject in more detail.

Libraries in my early life
Going to the library was a major part of life when I was growing up - just as going to school and going to the sweet shop were! 

I did have some books of my own and I also used the school libraries, but this was not nearly enough for me: I always wanted more and better reading material.

I lived 'by chance' close to some very big public libraries as a child. I know that small buildings appear large to small children, but I revisited some of them and found them just as imposing now as they were then.

They gave me a never-ending supply of high quality books. 

I saw libraries as treasure troves; the books on the shelves offered me escape, distraction, education and entertainment. They helped to fill some gaps in my life and gave me things I couldn’t get in the real world. They gave me far more information than I was getting at school or from the people in my life.

I joined the huge local library when my family moved to London. Even though it was very well stocked and I also found many good books in the school library, this still wasn’t enough to feed my insatiable appetite for food for my mind and fuel for my imagination.

The great and positive influence of public libraries

This post was inspired by a quotation from Terry Pratchett that I found recently. He said this in his introduction to Dragons at Crumbling Castle: And Other Stories:

“... I taught myself how to write by reading as many books as I could carry home from the library.“

Many people do indeed learn to write by extensive reading, although obviously not all voracious readers go on to become published writers. Who knows what wonderful works might never have existed if their authors had not had access to large numbers of good-quality library books as children! 

Isaac Asimov is another writer to acknowledge his debt:

"I received the fundamentals of my education in school, but that was not enough. My real education, the superstructure, the details, the true architecture, I got out of the public library."

From his memoir I, Asimov

I like to see people giving credit where it is due! 

These quotations have given me the idea of creating a series of articles about public libraries, covering both my personal experiences and those of some of the writers mentioned on here. There will also be some background and general material. 

This exercise will help to pay off the huge debt that I owe to the library books that educated, inspired and entertained me as a child – and still do.

I hope that this dragon doesn't drop his book in the bath!

L. M. Montgomery on Rudyard Kipling and writing to order

It came as no great surprise to learn recently that L. M. Montgomery was familiar with the works of Rudyard Kipling: as mentioned in previous articles, she was a great reader. 

What was unexpected was that she singled out Kipling’s Barrack Room Ballads for special praise - perhaps this was because she was given the poems as a Christmas present. 

Her actual words about the poems surprised me too:

“They are capital — full of virile strength and life. They thrill and pulsate and burn, they carry you along in their rush and swing, till you forget your own petty interests and cares, and burst out into a broader soul-world and gain a much clearer realization of all the myriad forms of life that are beating around your own little one. And this is good for a person even if one does slip back afterwards into the narrow bounds of one’s own life. We can never be quite so narrow again.”

From The Complete Journals of L. M. Montgomery: The PEI Years, 1900-1911

I certainly know what it is like to be thrilled and taken out of myself and swept into another, wider, world by certain poems, Rudyard Kipling’s in particular, but the Barrack Room Ballads are not among them. They have on the whole a negative effect.

This enthusiasm was so surprising that I went to Project Gutenberg to refresh my memory of the Ballads in the hope of understanding why L. M. Montgomery felt this way about them.

Napoleon Bonaparte and the crumbs of hope

Napoleon Bonaparte must be one of the most written-about people on the planet. However, although he got a brief mention in an article about Benjamin Disraeli, who was a great admirer of his, I would not have expected that he would ever be the subject of an article on here.

I was reading about Napoleon recently, and I unexpectedly came across some material of interest. 

I was surprised to learn that after his final defeat, Napoleon had wanted to come and live in the UK. In exile, he even learned some ‘Englich’ in preparation for the life that he still hoped to have. 

He pinned his hopes on various members of the royal family in turn, only to be disappointed. He may even have lost the will to live when he realised that he would never return to Europe.

I never thought that I would have anything at all in common with Napoleon, but there are some familiar elements in a few of his letters. I know what it is like to live for some years on crumbs of hope, clutching at straws and desperately casting around for possibilities in the form of anything or anyone that might help to provide a way out of an unacceptable situation. 

Wishful thinking predominates, and ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ become major preoccupations. 

Living in such suspense is very painful; it is even worse when the last crumb of hope disappears.

Hope, the loss of hope and the absence of hope are major unseen influences in some people’s lives.

Violet Needham, Pandora, and Mr Papadopoulis

Violet Needham wrote some high-quality books for children. They were published between the years 1939 and 1957. 

Apart from a brief mention in the article about Anthony Hope, whose fictional country Ruritania may well have inspired her fictional Empire and surrounding countries, Violet Needham has not previously been featured on here.

Some of her books, the Stormy Petrel stories in particular, are full of exciting and romantic adventures in glamorous settings and some even have supernatural elements, but most of them are not relevant to this blog. 

While working on articles about John Buchan's books, I was reminded of some characters and scenes from one of Violet Needham’s books. I decided to take another look at Pandora of Parrham Royal (1951), which I last read many years ago. 

I bought a copy online and renewed my acquaintance with the material that I vaguely remembered. In the light of what I have since learned about unseen influences, parts of the book seem much more significant now than they did when I first read it. 

Pandora of Parrham Royal may not be one of Violet Needham’s best books when it comes to the characters and storyline - I much prefer the Stormy Petrel series - but it has inspired an article because it has some elements in common with John Buchan's books and it provides yet another example of someone who uses occult powers to get what they want.

Much of the plot and most of the characters in Pandora of Parrham Royal are not relevant to this article. 

The main character of interest is called Themistocles Papadopoulis. 

He has attributes in common with some really horrible black magicians who have been featured on here, although, unlike Stella Gibbons’s occultist Esmé Scarron and Robin Jarvis’s appalling warlock Nathaniel Crozier, he is not really evil nor is he involved with black magic as such.

About Mr Papadopoulis
Mr Papadopoulis has a touch of the typical Luciferian hero/villain about him. He is a man of mystery. He has dark hair and melancholy black eyes that sometimes smoulder with passion; he sometimes gives an impression of great power and arrogance; he is magnetic and charming; he smiles ironically and has a compelling gaze; he also hypnotises people. He makes people like him whether they want to or not.

More magic and witch wisdom from Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett’s comic fantasy novels about the Discworld are a goldmine when it comes to definitions of and ideas about magic and witches.

The points he makes and the warnings he gives have a much wider application than just to his imaginary world and characters. 

What he says is not always what some people expect or want to hear, but it is all worth considering and putting to the test. 

Material from his books has appeared in several articles, and I have found a few more wise words to quote. 

Using magic
Miss Tick gives more lessons to the young witch Tiffany Aching:

“’But can’t you use a keeping-warm spell?’ said Tiffany.

‘I could. But a witch doesn’t do that sort of thing. Once you use magic to keep yourself warm, then you’ll start using it for other things.’

‘But isn’t that what a witch is supposed to--‘ Tiffany began.

‘Once you learn about magic, I mean really learn about magic, learn everything you can learn about magic, then you’ve got the most important lesson still to learn,’ said Miss Tick.

‘What’s that?’

‘Not to use it. Witches don’t use magic unless they really have to. It’s hard work and difficult to control. We do other things.’”

This is not an easy lesson to learn. It may not at first make sense; it may not be acceptable. Despite that, a wise person will take it to heart. The senior witches in Terry Pratchett’s books know what they are talking about.

More about Rudyard Kipling’s Daemon

There is a little more Daemon-related material of interest in Rudyard Kipling’s autobiographical work Something of Myself.

His anecdotes provide some recommendations and guidance that other writers might find useful.

Give the Daemon the tools it wants
When it comes to writing, the best approach is to use tools and materials that attract and encourage the Daemon and avoid anything that the inner companion says it dislikes.

Kipling’s Daemon had a strong preference for deep black ink:

“For my ink I demanded the blackest, and had I been in my Father's house, as once I was, would have kept an ink-boy to grind me Indian-ink. All 'blue-blacks' were an abomination to my Daemon...”

It is strange what a big difference these little things make. It is definitely good practice to humour whatever it is that makes the ideas flow. It is merely a matter of doing what feels right; it is easy to sense when the Daemon is comfortable and when not.

Do your share of the work
One thing the writer can do that the Daemon can not is to research and check some basic information. Not only does this improve the quality of the work and the authority of the writer, getting started may attract the attention of the Daemon and encourage it to make its own contribution.

In Rudyard Kipling’s own words:

“In respect to verifying one's references, which is a matter in which one can help one's Daemon. Take nothing for granted if you can check it. Even though that seem waste-work, and has nothing to do with the essentials of things, it encourages the Daemon. There are always men who by trade or calling know the fact or the inference that you put forth. If you are wrong by a hair in this, they argue 'False in one thing, false in all.' Having sinned, I know. Likewise, never play down to your public--not because some of them do not deserve it, but because it is bad for your hand.”

Rudyard Kipling and his Daemon

This article was inspired by a short anecdote in Rudyard Kipling’s autobiographical work Something of Myself (1937).

This is where he tells us about his Daemon, a kind of personal muse who he says inspired his writing. He tells us some very interesting and significant things about this supernatural being.

The inspirational anecdote in summary is that a man told Kipling a horror story that he said was a personal experience. Kipling wrote it up but something stopped him from sending it to a publisher. He was really glad about this when, ‘by chance’, he found the story, identical in every way, in an old magazine. He gives credit to his Daemon for preventing a charge of plagiarism, which would not be good for such a famous writer’s reputation and would have been very stressful for him.

This may sound far-fetched, but other people have had similar experiences although they may not attribute helpful inner promptings and warnings to a daemon but, for example, to Providence, the Universe or their subconscious minds. I have given examples of such positive inner guidance in various articles.

Cults: an overview of the main articles to date

As my articles about cults are attracting a respectable number of readers, I thought that, while this blog does have Labels and a Search facility, a summary of the main cult-related articles to date together with some links might be useful.

I intend to keep this article updated with links to any new cult articles of significance.

I noticed retrospectively that many of the articles can be grouped according to their main cult-related theme; this is how they are referenced here.

Attributes of cult members

Most important are the basic informational articles. These give general warnings about what to expect when dealing with cult members. For example:

They will lie to you and may leave you stranded.

Their ‘friendship’ will be conditional and could end at any time.

They will sooner or later behave as if you are theirs to command.

They will expect more and more from people and give less and less in return. 

Their values may be inverted.

Independent and analytical thinking is discouraged, so discussions with cult members can be frustrating as they just mindlessly repeat robotic slogans and the official party line. Their access to reading material may be restricted, so discussions may also be difficult and unrewarding because of their ignorance. 

The cutting of connections by cult members is a topic that has generated a four-part article. 

In addition to all that, be prepared to deal with the sole supplier syndrome, the unpleasant and unjustified superiority syndrome and, worst of all, the dreaded attack-dog syndrome!

Never forget that, as Alexander Herzen said, they will commit all kinds of crimes in the name of their cause.

And never forget either that they are all in on it!

Writers: three views from L. M. Montgomery

Previous articles have covered some of L.M. Montgomery’s thoughts about reading and writing.

Her short story The Waking of Helen (1901) is a depressing account of a doomed girl. It is of interest because it contains a good summary of three possible ways of looking at well-known writers.

We can view them as elite, fortunate and noble people who are far above the masses; we can respect, admire, even worship them for their achievements and envy them for their position, popularity and immortal names.

We can view them with disappointment, disillusionment, disapproval and disgust when we become aware of their real characters and read about some of the appalling things that they believed, said and did.

We can feel sadness and pity for their unhappy lives when we learn what they had to endure and realise that for them, fame and fortune were no compensation for what they lost or never had.

These ways of looking at writers are not mutually exclusive.

Here are some relevant extracts from the story:

100 years of John Buchan’s Mr Standfast

This day, August 26th, is John Buchan’s birthday. This article marks the 144th anniversary of his birth.

This year, 2019, is the 100th anniversary of the first publication of John Buchan’s spy thriller Mr Standfast.  

Mr Standfast is the third book in the series of five Richard Hannay adventures; it follows Greenmantle and precedes The Three Hostages.

I think of Greenmantle and The Three Hostages as being the best of the Richard Hannay books; I find Mr Standfast and The Island of Sheep the least enjoyable to read; I put The Thirty-Nine Steps in the middle of the two groups.

The main problem with Mr Standfast is the effect that it doesn’t have. I find it less enthralling than other books in the series. To me, Mr Standfast is more of the same; it is The Thirty-Nine Steps with World War I scenes added.

Although most of the small amount of inspirational material that Mr Standfast contains has already appeared in two previous articles, there is still a little more to say about the book. I want to highlight a few quotations and scenes that I particularly like.

Lost in Fairyland: Kenneth Grahame and J. M. Barrie

This article is a short addition to the recent one about Fairyland, in which mention is made in general terms of people who remain stuck in Fairyland and never grow up.

This topic was inspired by Terry Pratchett’s amusing fantasy novel The Wee Free Men. The chapter in which the young witch Tiffany Aching meets two boys who are trapped in Fairyland is called Lost Boys.

This reminds me of J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan and the Llewelyn Davies boys. J. M. Barrie and the Lost Boys: The Real Story Behind Peter Pan is the title of a book by Andrew Birkin.

Kenneth Grahame is the second specific example of an eternal boy that comes immediately to mind.

Barrie and Grahame immortalised their names, created magical worlds and enhanced the lives of millions with their works, but all was not well behind the scenes and below the surface.

More occult-related damage to August Strindberg’s family

This is yet another article in the series inspired by the Swedish playwright August Strindberg’s autobiographical novel Inferno.

As described here, Strindberg made two of his older children very ill when his attempt to influence his little girl by the use of psychological black magic missed its mark.  

This article highlights two more examples from Inferno of the harmful effects that occult activities had on his family.

The two dabblers in the occult

Inferno has many references to the occult and its practitioners.

It is not always clear what aspect of the occult Strindberg is talking about. He could mean mediums and spiritualism or even just metaphysical books rather than ill-wishing, cursing and other forms of black magic in the case of two women connected to him who ‘studied occultism’.

Strindberg says this about his mother-in-law and aunt:

“Both starting from a neutral point of view as regards religion had begun to study occultism. From that moment onwards they suffered from sleepless nights, mysterious accidents accompanied by terrible fears, and at last, attacks of madness. The invisible furies pursue their prey up to the very gates of the city of refuge—religion.”

Attacks of madness? This sounds remarkably like what happened to the friend of Strindberg’s youth and his family, not to mention Strindberg himself.

Sleepless nights, terrible fears and mysterious accidents? These come with the territory.

Being hounded by invisible furies is a very good description of what happens to people who attract the attention of malevolent forces.

Some people contaminate everything and everyone they touch. 

Were the two women’s unwise activities and the devastating results caused or influenced by bad energy and malign forces that surrounded Strindberg?

We can’t be sure, but it seems likely.

Terry Pratchett, L. M Montgomery and Fairyland

Terry Pratchett’s description of Fairyland in The Wee Free Men has reminded me of a passage I came across recently in one of L. M. Montgomery’s books. She too has something to say about the place.

Their views and descriptions are very different. Terry Pratchett is all negative while L. M. Montgomery is all positive.

Terry Pratchett describes a kind of hell universe that people are relieved to escape from while L. M. Montgomery describes a heavenly paradise that produces an unbearable sense of loss in people who have been banished from it forever.

Terry Pratchett’s Fairyland is an actual world than can be visited by a few select people while L. M. Montgomery’s, although not open to most people, is an inner world.

Terry Pratchett’s Fairyland drains real worlds and has nothing to give while L. M. Montgomery’s world is a wellspring of wonders that can be brought out into our world and shared.

L. M. Montgomery’s description of Fairyland leaves out something important that Terry Pratchett highlights.

Two home truths from Terry Pratchett

Lucy Maud Montgomery, Stella Benson and August Strindberg have inspired many articles to date, and there are still more to come - eventually.

Although it was very interesting to find more independent confirmation of some of my ideas and familiar features and scenarios in their lives and works, it was very depressing to read about the suffering they endured, self-imposed or otherwise.

I needed to take a break from these people as it was all getting too much. Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels were one of the best antidotes that I could think of.

I decided to take a second look at the books featuring the young witch Tiffany Aching and her little friends the Nac Mac Feegle. In addition to distraction and entertainment, I hoped to find some more wise words about magic and witches.

I soon found some article-inspiring material in The Wee Free Men, the first book in the Tiffany Aching series. Terry Pratchett makes some good points here.

He says that doing is better than dreaming in that working, thinking and learning are more beneficial, productive and effective than just wishing for things and repeating vague motivational phrases about following our star.

He also says that getting what we need is usually better for us than getting what we want.

Doing is better than dreaming

There is a scene in The Wee Free Men where the senior witch Miss Tick gives the young witch Tiffany some very useful advice:

Miss Tick sniffed. “You could say this advice is priceless,” she said. 

“Are you listening?”

“Yes,” said Tiffany.

“Good. Now…if you trust in yourself…”

“Yes?”

“…and believe in your dreams…”

“Yes?”

“…and follow your star…” Miss Tick went on.

“Yes?”

“…you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy.”

This is very true. I have seen it for myself.

Stella Benson and L. M. Montgomery

This article summarises a few common elements in the lives of novelists Lucy Maud Montgomery and Stella Benson.

They both had something to say about the feeling of being innately different from the people around them and the horrors of having to live an ordinary life. They both came to realise that their marriage was a terrible mistake.

Shared feelings of being different
Feeling fundamentally different is so common in creative people as to be almost a cliché. I have quoted Kathleen Raine on the subject. 

This feeling usually goes with the territory, although they don’t all go as far as Stella Benson did and believe that they have the souls of snakes!

As previously mentioned, Stella Benson felt different in kind from the throng of ‘real girls’ who surrounded her. Sometimes she felt superior to them. She wrote, “I know I have something infinitely more important which these giggling girls have not.“

L. M. Montgomery too felt this way. I mentioned in a previous article that, like many others of her kind, she felt that she did not fully belong in this world. She seems ambivalent about this:

“It was really dreadful to be so different from other people…and yet rather wonderful, too, as if you were a being strayed from another star.” 

From Anne of Windy Poplars

Stella Benson's diaries

I came across this quotation from L. M. Montgomery recently:

“Only lonely people keep diaries.”

She kept a diary from the age of nine, and this is where she wrote the above words. I think that they are probably true in some cases but definitely not in all.

Sometimes diaries are kept primarily for record keeping purposes, to be used for reference in the future if necessary. Isaac Asimov for example kept detailed but mainly factual diaries for much of his life.

Journalling is a possible outlet for creative people who must write. It provides a way of exercising writing skills and keeping them honed; it keeps the channel of inspiration open.

The quotation made me think of Stella Benson, who kept a diary from the age of ten until shortly before she died. It is certainly applicable to her. In Stella’s own words:

“To set down a record of my contact with people...is most necessary to me. Because my most continuous sensation is a feeling of terrifying slipping-away from people - a most devastating loneliness - I have to place on record the fact that I was human and that even I had my human adventures.”

More words about writing from L. M. Montgomery

This article contains a few more hard-hitting quotations on the subject of writers and writing from L. M. Montgomery.

She seems ambivalent about the whole business of being a writer, seeing it as both a gift and a curse:

“You'll never write anything that really satisfies you though it may satisfy other people.”

From Emily Climbs

This may be true in some cases - artists often feel that their works fall far short of their visions - but the converse also applies: some writers may be proud of their productions while their readers may not think much of them.

Disapproval, criticism and discouragement

People who read a lot are often criticised for it, and people who try to write are often discouraged. L. M. Montgomery obviously experienced much disapproval herself:

“’I think this story-writing business is the foolishest yet,’ scoffed Marilla. ‘You’ll get a pack of nonsense into your heads and waste time that should be put on your lessons. 

Reading stories is bad enough but writing them is worse.’”

From Anne of Green Gables

Although this disapproving attitude does a lot of damage, that last line seems quite funny to me.