News

There was no avoiding the book news this week - Puffin is seeking to reissue the Roald Dahl books with amended text after being read by sensitivity readers.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on this - Salman Rushdie, the Prime Minister, the Queen Consort. Matt the cartoonist quipped that the title of one classic was to be changed to 'Charlie and the Quinoa Factory'. The debate filled page after page in the newspapers, day after day, with both serious and wry comments.

Then it seemed some sort of resolution was found as Penguin decided to keep both the original and revised editions in print. Commercially, a winner.

But there was another development today. Ian Fleming Publications, publisher of the James Bond novels, has engaged its own sensitivity readers so will be issuing new editions with references to racism, particularly, removed.

Where will this end? It's a worrying trend, it has to be said. And surely it's better to look at ensuring current and future fiction isn't offensive rather than seeking to revise past publications? As Philip Pullman commented, better to let inappropriate texts slip out of print if they are no longer relevant? And aren't we informed and intelligent enough as an educated nation to realise that times have changed and language and social norms evolve?

However, Roald Dahl revised his books himself. 'And Then There Were None' wasn't the original title of Agatha Christie's novel. An illustration of Peter Rabbit's dad baked in a pie did not appear in the second edition. 

Sometimes it is right to amend works with the knowledge and sensitivities we have today. The trouble with the recent reworking of Dahl (and the Bond books from what was reported today), is that many of the changes are just plain silly. How can it stop bullying in the playground by changing the word 'fat' to 'enormous' for example? 

Thank you for reading.

Increasingly people tell me that they're unable to watch or listen to the news these days because world affairs are so bleak and, even reading the newspaper, I find that I am skimming pages, only taking in the headlines.

With so much doom and gloom, conversations with friends and family have adopted a certain refrain. When it all gets a bit much, someone will say 'Any good news?!' And we hope to rise to the challenge.

This week, then, I was cheered by a story on local tv about a husband and wife from Colchester who had succeeded in rowing the Atlantic together.

After three months and 3,000 miles they were very shaky on their feet as they stepped out of their boat. They had both lost a considerable amount of weight and didn't have much to say to their interviewer, but the scenes of jubilation as they reached land were wonderful. The relief and sense of achievement was palpable and the joy expressed through the flares and the cheers gave me goosebumps.

I wonder how an epic voyage like that changes you? For months on end your sole focus is survival, at the mercy of the elements, while witnessing the wonders of the natural world at close hand. 

A few weeks ago I interviewed marine scientist Hannah Rudd about her book exploring our own coastal waters. It was amazing to learn how they are no less awe-inspiring than the more exotic locations we associate with marine research, yet we take them for granted. She hopes that by telling us something of the extraordinary creatures to be found and also the eco-system on which we all rely so completely, we may be inspired to learn more and to be involved in helping preserve them for the future. It's an uplifting, enlightening and energising read and I urge you to take a look.

But finally, just a reminder that the end of the month is in sight so please let me know if you are thinking of coming along to book group on Monday 27 February. Scroll down for more details about this month's meeting. I hope I'll see you there.

Thank you for reading.

Events over the past few years have led many to feel that we've been living out the plot of a science fiction novel, a political satire or...a black comedy?

Lockdowns, 'partygate', a merry-go-round of prime ministers - "it's beyond  belief", "you couldn't make it up"...

It's no wonder book sales soared as we all looked for an escape from real life. And fiction is a great way for stepping into other times and places, challenging our prejudices and preconceptions.  

The titles I've picked up by chance recently have all been entertaining and escapist, but they have at times felt frighteningly real and rather unsettling!

First there was 'Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons' which I mentioned last week. Though beautifully done, it challenges us to think about how we use our words and what we might do if they were restricted.

Then I read a recently published novel called 'The Library Suicides' (not the greatest title, but I'm often drawn to stories about libraries or bookshops!). This is an odd and bleak thriller, set in an imagined near-future in the National Library of Wales. It's rather intriguing in that it explores how we assess and value literature, and the written word in general.

But I also read 'End of Story' by Louise Swanson, due out in March. A bestselling writer is effectively under house arrest as a new regime has declared that all storytelling is banned. Novels have to be destroyed and the only books that are acceptable are those which present facts, the 'truth'. It's a gripping and thought-provoking thriller, with a brilliant twist. 

All well and good, then - some great entertainment with interesting, provocative themes. But in the New Yorker this week there was an article about schools in Florida where they are banning books, clearing the bookshelves and papering them over. 

These are strange times. How do we respond to such actions? At the least, let's keep supporting our bookshops, our libraries and our school reading programmes. And as our own bookshelves groan, let's not take books for granted!

Thank you for reading.

Strikes disrupted daily life again this week but in Woodbridge there was an additional issue in the closure of the A12 for maintenance work. With traffic redirected through the town, there were times when the roads were gridlocked.

Although most vehicles were following a diversion, some tried to take different routes to avoid the closure and resulting congestion. Unfortunately the driver of one huge lorry came unstuck when he approached the one way system and realised he couldn't get through. His subsequent attempt at turning back resulted in him blocking the whole of the historic Market Hill.

While many of these lorries seem far too big for our roads, we can't fail to sympathise with delivery drivers who are often under huge time pressure. If their routes are compromised, they have to make difficult decisions on how best to reach their destination. But we all know the dangers of blindly following the instructions of sat nav systems.

Indeed, I had a bit of a surprise earlier this year when I thought I was being taken on a short cut to north Norfolk. Congratulating myself on how I was avoiding hurtling along A roads and was instead enjoying big skies, sunshine and windmills, I turned a corner to hear my sat nav suddenly pronounce 'take the ferry'. Fortunately, despite being in the middle of nowhere (on the edge of the Norfolk Broads), the chain ferry was operating, and my journey continued, but if I'd studied a map beforehand I might not have had such a shock.

Of course it was lack of planning on my part that, on this occasion, I hadn't looked at all my options on a road atlas before starting my journey.

But how many of us are losing the skill of reading a map? On a recent episode of 'The Apprentice' on BBC One, the candidates revealed that they didn't know how to use a paper map. And this wasn't a case of not being able to read contour lines or decipher the symbols in the legend, they didn't know how to use a street atlas!

Wouldn't it be sad to lose the skill to read maps and appreciate our immediate environment? And how important it is to understand where we are in life, where we've come from and where we're going! Let's keep using road atlases, street guides, nautical charts and OS maps. Besides, you don't always have the power or signal for an electronic device, particularly in Suffolk!

Thank you for reading.

A play has just opened in the West End, quirkily titled 'Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons, Lemons' (that's five 'lemons'). Starring 'Poldark's Aidan Turner and 'Victoria's Jenna Coleman, it is described as 'a tender and funny rom-com' but it's so much more than an evening's light entertainment.

The premise of the play, written by Sam Steiner, is that a law is proposed, and then passed, where each citizen is limited to speaking only 140 words a day. 

The two characters, Oliver and Bernadette haven't long been a couple. They think they've told each other all the important bits about their lives before the law is passed, but of course things are never that simple. So how do they cope with this limit on their conversation? What are the words they choose to say to each other? What does this limit on communication mean to the balance of power in society? When do you use up your words to avoid dealing with the difficult 'stuff', and when do you just start singing?!

This was just the most amazing tonic. It was lovely to be at a London theatre again for one thing, but it was so refreshing to watch a warm, funny, lively play which also had moments of poignancy and quiet, and which left us all with so much to ponder and discuss.

Very often deep and difficult issues are presented in gritty, dark, angst-driven rants on the stage, I find, which may be creatively formidable but leave me wrung through and despondent. This was exciting, energising and stimulating while also making some interesting and challenging points about communication and power. Go and see it if you can - or buy the book!

Thank you for reading.