Blog | English Literature | York St John University
I’ve been angry about this election ever since it U-turned its way into the public’s mind. Since Trump’s election, I’ve been very politically engaged. Whilst politics is a pretty negative space at the moment, the countless injustices have served one benefit: motivating the public to fight back.
By George Alexander Moss
The Royal Shakespeare Company’s latest take on Julius Caesar is a pulse-pounding production that bloodily blurs the line between good and evil.
By Rachel Atkin
York International Shakespeare Festival works to bring worldwide celebrations of Shakespeare and his plays into one city, where England’s most recognisable writer can be experienced through a diversity of cultures.
On Monday 15th and Tuesday 16th, I had the
pleasure of being invited to see an Iranian production of Coriolanus, performed by the Titus Company from the University of Tehran. Though the company themselves were absent, due to the British Embassy’s decision to not provide visas, we were provided with a recorded version of an alienating, experimental, and yet hugely emotive piece of theatre.
Continue reading “York International Shakespeare Festival: Coriolanus”
Review by Tilly Martin
Setting her story in the decaying environment of a post-apocalyptic earth, Emily St John Mandel details the journey of several characters, all somehow intertwined, who are trying to make it in this new world. One of the most interesting aspects of the novel is that, unlike the custom in books of this genre, most aspects of the story are very realistic. There are no zombies and no individuals with semi-magical powers to save the day; every character is a hero in their own way, surviving on their own.
Continue reading “Review: Station Eleven, by Emily St John Mandel”
Review by Joseph Wright
Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is a modern English masterpiece. Published in 2004 
and set in nineteenth-century England, the novel tells an inverted version of history where magic exists and magicians are very real.
Continue reading “Review: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke”
Anyone in York St John’s Quad South Hall on the 5th May (and possibly a few days after) will have noticed the soulful smell of fresh, exotically spiced food lingering in the curtains of the chapel: a perfect metaphor for the cultural synergy explored in the Culinary Cultures event held by Dr Sarah Lawson Welsh. The event was filled to the brim with excellent speakers whose papers and presentations all seemed to complement each other and help attendees develop a well-rounded understanding of food in literature, advertising, feminism, as well as every other facet of life. It did seem towards the end of the event that food permeated every aspect of existence, of course it would be hard not to think that when discussing the problematic masculinity of barbeque culture over the loveliest fried plantains I have ever eaten.
The day began with an eye-opening look at barbeque culture in America, focusing mostly on the one word that will pop up multiple times in this post as it did throughout the event: authenticity. You may have seen signs on restaurants claiming to deliver true flavours of their cuisine’s country of origin, or even claiming that they have the most authentic ingredients, we have all definitely been to an Italian restaurant that makes use of their mother’s/grandmother’s/any matriarch’s recipes from back home. But as the day progressed those of us in attendance began to unpack the problematic nature of these claims, making many of us simultaneously want a barbeque and not want a barbeque!
Thankfully after all this talk of food, we actually got to eat some! Food educator Sharmini Thomas cooked up a feast of wonderfully spiced foods for us to sample over lunch, whilst patiently answering any question thrown her way. Throughout the cook-up Sharmini chatted about spices and where they come from, the origins of certain dishes, as well as some interesting Indo-Caribbean history we definitely weren’t taught in school. But most interestingly, whilst chatting, we touched back on the idea of authenticity. When someone asked about whether or not coconut should be added to rice and peas Sharmini silenced us all by reminding us those cooking would cook with what was available, if there was coconut growing nearby, it would go in, but if not the recipe would go without. This begs the question: can the authenticity of these recipes really be replicated? And even should recipes made for survival be appropriated and lay any claim to authenticity in the face of luxury?
The answer is: yes probably. It’s unfortunate, but true, that some post-colonial cultures are in danger of dying. After lunch we explored the food of Palestine. Although the promotion of Palestinian agriculture through fair-trade as a means of raising awareness was fascinating, I found myself drawn to the discussion about Joudie Kalla’s cookbook Memories From my Mother’s Kitchen as a means of preserving Palestinian culture. As a literature student I find myself looking for importance in books, primarily in fiction, but cookbooks offer an insight into life just as deep as those in fiction, and they should definitely be allowed more close readings. Food, after all, is the point that our lives revolve around, so why should books dedicated to it not have an important place in our society?
Whilst discussing recipes and cookbooks, during in one of the many coffee breaks, I noticed quite a few attendees were speaking about family recipes that have somehow never found their way onto paper and as a result are cause for argument at family gatherings. Spookily, this was perfectly mirrored in the final discussions on the nostalgia of food, and maternal inheritance in the culture of family recipes. And it is there, with everyone fondly remembering their mothers and grandmother’s kitchens, that one of the best events I have attended at YSJ came to a close. Full of food for both body and mind, we all went home remembering the lingering smells of the spices.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank Dr Sarah Lawson Welsh for organising one of the most academically fulfilling events I have attended throughout my degree. Those wanting to attend any more of these food related events should drop Sarah an email to get on the mailing list, it will definitely be worth it.
An invitation for YSJU students to volunteer for the Bradford Literature Festival, 30th June – 9th July.
The Festival writes:
Bradford Literature Festival offers a programme of events like no other, creating exceptional discussions and debates and inviting audiences to engage directly with world renowned authors and speakers to share thoughts and opinions. Our Festival wouldn’t be possible without a group of dedicated and enthusiastic volunteers. From the 30th June – 9th July, over 100 volunteers will help us run and deliver our festival. Whether you have a passion for literature and the arts, are looking to gain real working experience, or you’re simply an outgoing person looking for a fun way to spend your spare time, we want to hear from you!
The roles we have available include:
Venue Assistants
You would be an essential part of the Bradford Literature Festival. The role will involve assisting the Venue Manager in all aspects of event co-ordination including greeting the audience, taking tickets, assisting with seating and audience requirements as well as a whole host of other tasks.
Festival Runners
Reporting directly to the core team, Festival Runners are the problem solvers and key support network of the Bradford Literature Festival, so therefore vital for the Festival! This role is varied and can involve anything and everything from standing in for other volunteers and setting up events to transporting equipment and even escorting festival guests.
Guest Assistants
Stationed at one of our partner hotels, Guest Assistants will manage a dedicated guest liaison desk, assisting guest authors, speakers and artists. You would help guests check in and provide any information about the festival or Bradford itself. You would need to know Bradford excellently and a passion for literature is a must, you never know which esteemed guest you might meet!
If you are over the age of 16 and can make our training meeting on the 16th June at Bradford University, we would love to hear from you!
If you are interested in volunteering, please visit our website www.bradfordlitfest.co.uk/volunteers
Life after university can be a daunting prospect, as the challenge of securing employment and developing a career looms large. Thankfully, plenty of support is available from the Careers Team at York St John.
The team provides students with careers guidance and connects them with employers in Yorkshire and beyond. In this post, two third-year students explain what motivated them to attend the Yorkshire Graduate Fair in Leeds on Wednesday 3rd May 2017. Below are details of two more sessions being run by the Careers team, as well as details of how you can sign up.
Niamh Meehan
I decided to attend the Yorkshire Graduate Fair as I can say, with the collective unease of all students about to embark the minefield of adulthood post university, I don’t really know what I want to do. What I do know is that I want to keep all of my options open in the next few months, and henceforth apply for everything and anything that strikes me as a possibility. So the next step was to get informed about the opportunities out there, part of which included a trip to the University of Leeds, where the Yorkshire Graduate Fair was being held.
As over 90 companies were due to attend, the fair was spread across 2 large sports halls on the campus. At first it was overwhelming, but I had come to the fair with a few companies in mind, so I planned my route around the rooms and took advantage of the freebies available. Often the thought of networking is worse than it actually is and I found this to be the case throughout the fair; many of the employers were open, friendly and welcomed my questions. I came away from the event with a greater insight into the opportunities around graduate schemes, internships, full-time and part-time roles and postgraduate courses. I managed to make a few contacts in the companies I was interested in and got a better understanding of what those companies are looking for in their potential employees.
I would encourage anyone who is in doubt about attending careers fairs to go for it and stay informed – the Careers team will tell you when the next events will take place. I had a really positive experience and hope others will too.
Holly Pawlitta
In the midst of writing my final assignments, and the aftermath of my dissertation, I found it difficult to gather the courage to search for a job. However, when I found out that the Careers team at university were offering a trip to Leeds for a graduate jobs fair, I felt that I finally had a starting point in my search for employment.
Prior to attending the fair, I felt nervous about meeting so many professionals, but my fears disappeared when I arrived at the fair. There were many employers at the fair, each offering exciting job opportunities for graduates. All of the employers were friendly and more than happy to answer my questions regarding the jobs they had available for English Literature graduates. The atmosphere was casual, yet informative. Many employers explained what job roles they typically offer to those with degrees in English Literature, for instance publishing, editing, marketing and consultancy. Some employers offered to look at my CV, whereas others asked for my contact details.
Attending the fair really put into perspective how valuable my degree is in the eyes of employers. Having the opportunity to meet so many employers in person was a much more informative and enriching experience than searching for jobs online. I now feel that I have the confidence to speak about the skills and knowledge which attending university has given to me. I highly recommend that other graduates make the most of such opportunities.
Upcoming Events
It’s the Final Countdown! (15-18th May)
We are filling the last week of term with a series of workshops designed to help students develop their core job-seeking skills, including Kickstart Your CV, LinkedIn Lab, Interviews and Assessment Centres and Personal Branding. We’ll also be running transferable skills workshops on Commercial Awareness, Project Management, Negotiating and Influencing and Personal Effectiveness, to make sure our graduates are absolutely ready to hit the ground running.
Leadership Bootcamp Open Badge (15-18th May)
Students who attend all the transferable skills workshops and at least one careers skills workshops will be able to complete the Leadership Bootcamp Open Badge. This includes a full-day’s project management training run by Sarah Wilson of 54 Degrees.
The Leadership Bootcamp and Final Countdown sessions are aimed at final years, but open to all years. Please point them out to any students who you think will benefit!
The claim that we are living in ‘unprecedented times’ is itself becoming disconcertingly ‘precedented.’ This is perhaps to be expected when we live in a world where Britain’s Foreign Secretary hosted Have I Got News for You and the White House is occupied by the presenter of the American Apprentice.
In 2010, a coalition government seemed unprecedented. So too did the gradual corrosion of health-care services, the dismantling of the arts and culture sectors, the commercialisation of higher education, the rise of foodbanks and record levels of homelessness. Then there’s the close results of the Scottish Referendum, the heady triumph of Jeremy Corbyn, the widely-reported implosion of the Labour party and, of course, the vote for Britain to leave the European Union. Unprecedented is the new precedent.
And now, three years ahead of schedule, there will be a General Election, due to be held just six weeks after it was announced. Not only will this be a challenge for the politicians involved, faced with the unprecedented challenge of condescending three years’ worth of planning into less than the amount of time it takes to broadcast a season of Broadchurch, but this also presents an unprecedented challenge for voters.
Since we all seem to be living in a particularly demented episode of Black Mirror it might be easy to feel like there’s nothing to be done. You may feel like you never get what you vote for. You may feel frustrated and disillusioned. You may feel like it isn’t worth voting because there’s no point. If you feel this, ignore that feeling. You should feel frustrated and you should feel disillusioned, but the only way to assert your will upon government is to vote.
But why keep voting, and who should we vote for anyway? These are good questions, and (as ever) the eighteenth century has the answers.
Eighteenth-Century Guidance on How to be a Good Citizen
Cards on the table, all my research is on the relationship between citizens and the state, and on how that relationship is articulated (and effected) by literature. I work on the long eighteenth century and as part of my PhD I spent a lot of time working on a periodical called The Freeholder, written by a man named Joseph Addison.
Addison too lived in ‘unprecedented times.’ The execution of Charles I by parliament, the Glorious Revolution and the Hanoverian Succession all remained in living memory and each raised serious structural, institution and existential questions. The emergence of cheap print meant that there was plenty of advice out there on how to vote, and The Freeholder offered just such advice. Published twice a week across 1715-16, Addison’s paper sought to tell property-owning gentleman (the only demographic allowed to vote at the time) what to think about when completing their ballot. Much of this advice remains extremely pertinent today, so here are three things to bear in mind as you march down to your local memorial hall on polling day.
From the very first issue of The Freeholder Addison refers to his vote as being his ‘remote voice’ in parliament. He writes that ‘the House of commons is the representative of men in my condition. I consider myself as one who gives my consent to every law that passes.’
Addison’s MP represents him. He needs to choose an MP whose interests and agendas closely match his own so that he can then trust this MP to vote and behave in parliament as he would himself. That MP is his ‘remote voice’, making a case in Westminster on Addison’s behalf whilst Addison is at home writing his periodicals.
Crucially, contrary to the way that it is often portrayed in the media, the party who win power during a general election cannot do whatever they want. Everything needs to be debated with everyone else that we voted for, and if they can’t get a majority vote they can’t move forward. We’ve seen a lot of this in the last year. Some people have even suggested that the main reason we’re having a snap election is because the party in power can’t get what they want with the house in its current configuration…
If you vote for a party that doesn’t win, that party doesn’t just disappear. If enough people vote for them they will be represented in the House, which means that they form part of the opposition. They offer an alternative opinion to the party in power and they’ll have to vote, on your behalf, on all these big decisions.
Vote for who best represents you so that those views can be aired in parliament. You’re choosing your own ‘voice’, so choose carefully.
In Addison’s Freeholder, the ‘happy tribe of men’ who make up a political party (a slightly loser affiliation that we know today… for now at least) are more important than the person leading them at the time. The principles of the ‘party’ will persist far longer than the individuals representing them at any given time, and this is perhaps useful to bear in mind today, given that in neither Labour or the Conservative currently have the same leader that they had going into the last general election in 2015. As Addison says in The Freeholder, all politicians are but ‘blossoms in the wind’ whilst government itself is an oak, rooted in the earth.
Again, vote for the party that best represents you and try not to get embroiled in ‘personality politics’, another twenty-first phenomenon that Addison warned us about three hundred years ago:
When a man thinks a party engaged in such measures as tend to the ruin of his country, it is certainly very laudable and virtuous action in him to make war after this manner upon the whole body. But as several casuists are of opinion, that in a battle you should discharge upon the gross of the enemy, without levelling your piece at any particular person so in his kind of combat also, I cannot think it fair to aim at any one man, and make his character the mark of your hostilities.
The Freeholder, No. 19 (1716)
This was the big one for Addison, who explains that ‘the great crime of omission is an indifference in particular members of society.’ He explains throughout The Freeholder than it is in fact worse to not do something right than it is to do something wrong. Addison’s overarching argument is that all citizens entitled to vote have both a duty to remain politically engaged and a personal responsibility to ensure that their MP are representing their interests. Again, this is because according to Addison he has lent his own voice to his chosen MP. He wants his voice using properly. As Addison puts it:
A freeholder is one remove from legislator, and for that reason ought to stand up in the Defence of those Laws which are in some degree his own making.
The Freeholder, No. 1 (1715)
It is stated throughout the Freeholder that it is this connection between citizen and state that constitutes the greatest ‘privilege’ of living in a democratic society. It is, for Addison, what gives the governed power over those who govern and, as we all know, with great power comes great responsibility.
If a citizen chooses not to be involved in the process and turns away from the business of politics then they no longer have any stake in who represents them in government. Their views, thoughts, attitudes and opinions and lost. As Addison highlights, this is not only their loss, but the loss of anyone else who shares their outlook, who similarly would have benefited from their vote.
What about this snap election?
Quoting Addison is all very well and good but he died in 1719, so what good does it do to read his work now?
Well, you need only look at the Gothic buildings that house our parliament to see that the one thing we can count on to remain unchanged, even in unprecedented times, is the mechanics of government. Addison’s advice to voters, then, remains relevant.
What would Addison want us to remember? Be engaged. Think about who best represents your thoughts, opinions, attitudes and interests and vote for them. Think more about who you want to represent you in parliament than who you foresee as the party in power. Look at the party more closely than you look at the people inside the party and remember, your vote is your voice. If you choose not to vote you have no voice, but if you vote wisely, your voice will be heard in government.
Disclosure notice: Joseph Addison was affiliated with the Whig ministry, a party opposed to the Tories.
This post originally appeared on Adam’s own blog, ‘The View from the Coffee House’, where you can find out more about his research:
https://adamjsmith18thc.wordpress.com/
Read Addison online for free at Project Guttenberg:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12030
Register to vote:
https://www.gov.uk/register-to-vote
After four years as an English Literature student at YSJ, last week I learned that an application I’d made for an intensely competitive PhD scholarship at the University of Nottingham had been successful. I was informed that I will be paid around £15,000 a year to conduct my research, my tuition fees will be waived, and that I can apply for further funding to help organise conferences or for research abroad. I will also be provided with opportunities to teach undergraduate seminars, and because the scholarship is provided by a Doctoral Training Partnership, I can make use of facilities and training across six universities in the Midlands. As I read the email, I scanned for ‘we regret to inform you’ that was surely contained within the response, and couldn’t quite believe it when (after the second time of reading it) I realised I had been successful.
After finding a real passion for Literature during my undergraduate, I applied for an MA in Contemporary Literature at YSJ. Having become part of such a welcoming academic community at the University, and not being sure of which aspect of Literature I wanted to specialise in, the course offered the flexibility of studying a range of genres and theoretical approaches. After what seemed the quickest year of my academic life, I realised that the British Literature module had completely transformed my outlook on the study of fiction and, after choosing to study it further through my Dissertation, my specialisation quickly became clear. We studied a range of British writers from around the country: from the Yorkshire Moors to council estates in North-West London and back up to a care home in Scotland for good measure. The geographical focus of the module was fascinating, and my research in this area formed the basis of what is now my PhD proposal.
Upon finishing the MA with Distinction and a range of appropriate experience under my belt, it seemed too good to be true when a PhD scholarship in British Literature was advertised at a university in the Northeast for the next academic year. I eagerly began work on drafting an application, but when I applied, I wasn’t even called for an interview. At the time I felt as though I had completely overestimated my potential, and had no intention of applying for a PhD again. If I hadn’t, however, I would never have received the offer I’ve just accepted (and a second I’ve since turned down). Since last summer, I’ve been working with academics whose work I studied during my MA (who still feel so famous that I get nervous every time I email them) to develop my proposal, which admittedly, is far more exciting than my original application the previous year.
If I could go back and tell my undergraduate self that this would happen in a few years’ time, I wouldn’t believe it. My aspiration to work in academia has always been shadowed by a doubt of whether I could afford to attend conferences, to take time out of my studies to submit to journals, and support my life away from home, while still maintaining the results I need in an increasingly competitive industry. I now realise that confidence was the only thing that could get in the way of achieving my goal, so if you’re considering a similar career but don’t know where to start (believe me, I had no idea!), book that tutorial with your seminar tutor or dissertation supervisor, ask for their advice, and find out what kind of opportunities are available to you. There’s tonnes out there, but it’s a bit of a minefield if you’re encountering the world of academia for the first time! Everyone at YSJ has been through the process one way or another, and I can say from experience that they are incredibly helpful and happy to provide advice – they are there to support you after all!
I can now say that I am being funded by the AHRC to research a topic I am extremely passionate about. As I prepare for my journey from Masters to PhD student, I am reminded of the unique community I was a part of at YSJ, and of the words of Jeanette Winterson, ‘fictions can change, it’s only the facts that trap us’ that unfailingly remain true.
If you turned on your TV on Tuesday morning, the chances are you weren’t expecting to meet the news of an impending general election. But alas, here we are, in the political minefield of 2017.
As students of literature and creative writing, it is our responsibility not only to react to the changing landscape of UK politics, but to inform it. Today we fear the rising tensions between North Korea and the US, we fear Donald Trump’s clear negligence of the working class, minorities and women of America, we fear the consequences of Brexit. But there comes a time when fear is simply not enough, concerns are not heard, and pessimism holds no impact.
News of the opportunity to vote on our leadership should be met with enthusiasm, rather than fatigue. This is a chance to change the way our country is headed, and potentially to sway away from the sort of politics we consistently see making cuts to the arts, cuts to the disabled, ramping up tuition fees and discussing mental health in regard to company productivity and the economy, rather than individual human beings.
When we study a text, we learn about the time that it was written in and what political events influenced the author. One day, students may well be reading our work and thinking about how Brexit, Trump, the Syrian refugee crisis and Chechnya’s LGBT concentration camps have impacted on our writing. Instead of letting the impact of these times on our writing be deciphered, make them clear. Make them stand for change. Use your platform to hold elected officials accountable for their actions, for their silent disregard of atrocities, of minorities, and of the arts which are so vital not only to us, but to those that will be affected by them.
Use your writing and literary criticism to show that change is needed. And make that change. Register to vote in the next election, and write, whether in allegory, article or essay. The arts are needed now more than ever.
Register to vote here: https://www.gov.uk/register-to-vote
I started applying to universities several years after finishing my A Levels, and one of the biggest concerns for my friends and family was that I’d be forking out nine grand a year to be here. If I’d gone straight after college, I’d have paid nine grand for the full three years. For many, the stark contrast in what students pay for their tuition has brought into question what exactly it is we’re paying for. Well, I’ll tell you.
I’m currently wrapping up the second year of my English Literature and Creative Writing course, and one of the modules I’m finishing this semester, Publishing, Production and Performance, is exemplary of the practical skills you can gain from a literature degree. As part of one of the module projects, I’ve spent the last couple of months organising the launch of Beyond the Walls, an anthology of York St John University student writing. The event was a success and completely sold out. Everyone on that module now has a book they can slap on the desk of potential employers, while they proudly say “I helped craft and create that product, and I have the skills to do it again”.
It seems to me that the anxieties surrounding arts degrees are the result of a widespread lack of awareness for the diversity of the creative industries. Using Beyond the Walls as an example, the text would not exist if its production relied solely on the efforts of writers. It needed to be curated, edited and designed, and it needed a showcase event to launch it to the public. The event needed planning; it needed live music, food, booze, projections and lighting. All this was done by creative writing students, and none of it had anything to do with writing; it was done for the sake of the writing.
The English Literature and Creative Writing course, shockingly, is not always about writing, and its student body is not made up of dreamers, hoping to become the next J.K. Rowling. We are members of the literary community, we are merchants of culture, and we understand that the best way to learn how to do something is to do it. My colleagues and I now know how to publish a book because we’ve done it, and we look forward to doing it again. I can tell my family and friends to put their anxieties at ease; creative writing is a commodity, and the industry has never been more exciting than it is in this bewildering modern age.
On Friday the 24th of March, the day after his talk at York St John’s University, Andy Owen kindly allowed me to interview him about his novel “East of Coker” and about the importance of literature and storytelling in conflict writing and more generally in our society.
Q. I found it really interesting both as a reader and as creative writer the fact that you chose to write from the point of view of a woman. Why the choice of that point of view? How difficult was it?
A. My previous novel was written from the point of view of a young man and I think that was very much in my comfort zone, having been a young man. And it is about someone who is excited to go and trying to find adventure and explore the world and I have felt that way myself, so I was very much in my comfort zone. So, I have deliberately tried to challenge myself to see how I could write from someone else’s perspective and, as I said last night, for me a big part of literature is trying to increase empathy. As a writer, if you are not doing that yourself, how do you expect your readers or your audience to do it? So, it is kind of trying to do what you preach, in a way. And I have no idea if I succeeded in doing that but I have certainly learned from trying to put myself in other people’s shoes, trying to think differently, trying to think if I was I woman how would I feel about these issues, which are probably traditionally seen as very male issues although increasingly now that is not the case with female serving in the army forces, writing from the frontline etc.
Q. There is a sentence in the ending of “East of Coker”: “I must tell my story and I must encourage others to tell their stories”. I was wondering if you feel that there is a moral responsibility in storytelling, in sharing these stories?
A. Yes, I think there is. I think it is a really good question. When you are trying to increase empathy you are trying to capture people’s stories and share those stories for people to understand. And, as you are asking, there is secondary responsibility there which is recording those stories, especially trying to record stories and voices that perhaps aren’t heard that widely in society and also, as a writer, trying to find your voice but also trying to find other voices. I think it is in important thing to do, I don’t think it is something every writer needs to do or has to do but I think it is a good thing to do. If you have got that ability to tell a story, then perhaps you do have a duty as well. There has been a tradition in conflict writing of people trying to help each other tell their stories and I think with those they did feel they had to help people who couldn’t perhaps tell their stories
Q. I found very interesting how in your book you talk about how war is life-changing, how people wonder if they will still be the same ones when they come back from war. I was wondering if, even for people who do not suffer of very serious cases of PTSD, is war still life-changing? Do every soldier feel that he/she will never be the same when he/she comes back?
A. I think so, and I think it can be on different levels. I think if you experience an extreme environment and learn nothing from it that would have quite a poor reflection on you. I think everyone should be changed in some way and hopefully for the positive by learning through your experience and being able to share your experiences and maybe look at life in a different way. I think one of the biggest things I took away from the times when I have been to places where I have been to is how fragile life is in some places and how hard people have to work just to survive in some places and I have been trying not to take things for granted as I did before and it has changed my attitude towards life. In a negative way, with people being shaped by those experiences, suffering from things like PTSD, even with people not being diagnosed, how they are haunted by memories, all of that happens but I think one of the things that I am trying to do in the book is to challenge people to see that it is up to you in a way how these things affect you, it is your way of thinking about these things and you have the choice to think differently. There is a lot going on, certainly in the US military about teaching soldiers to focus on what they can control and become comfortable with what they can’t control and I think there is a lot of similarity between some of stoic thoughts and some eastern thoughts as well, about acceptance of the way things are, coming to a comfortable acceptance which is why in the end I turn to the myth of Sisyphus and I challenge us to imagine Sisyphus being happy and I think that is one of the points of the book: you can still move on, you can still be happy if you choose to be.
Q. In “ East of Coker” you wrote: “It has always struck me that what we do has changed so little over the centuries”. Is it for this reason, for the fact that we still have not learned enough from the past, that you feel that we have to tell these stories, so maybe we could one day reach the point of learning something from it?
“Now culture becomes moribund, so God returns.”@owen_andy reads from East of Coker at @YorkLitFest #YorkLitFest pic.twitter.com/8SV4yn8MnZ
— Dr Adam James Smith (@elementaladam) March 23, 2017
A. I am probably not overly optimistic that we will get to that point. I think that is the practical element of soldiering that hasn’t changed in centuries and probably millennia. The technology has, we have different technologies now, which has maybe changed the directness of it, because you lose that personal element, if you are not the person being there, seeing it, smelling and being in the context, you are perhaps a thousand of miles away doing almost a nine to five job, going home to see your family after it. There is a lot of interesting aspects about that and I know that they have put MRI scans on pilots when they are making these decisions and it is parts of their brains, compared to a soldier on the frontline, which are a lot more rational rather than emotional that control those decisions. In a way that is also a metaphor for the wider aspect: we are still doing as a society the same things that we have always done. Someone who has always influenced me is an English writer called John Grey who talks about this myth of progress that we have in which whilst we are making clear advances in technology we are still the same creatures and we still have the same emotions that we did have two hundred years ago, thousands of years ago. As creatures, we have not changed that much even though we use different technologies.
Q. There is an interesting part in the book about how civilians perceive soldiers, in a scene in which you describe the soldiers arriving in a house full of women and children and they looked at them as if they were rapists. I think it communicates very well the feeling of being hated for what you represent and not for who you are, of being hated by someone who doesn’t really know you. How do you feel about it?
A. Yes, definitely, I think the point is that the misunderstanding across cultural boundaries works both ways and I certainly felt as an individual going to the places I went to that I was incredibly naïve. We had some hours’ worth of cultural training which wasn’t in any way enough, we knew very little about the countries we were going to and the cultures we were going to encounter. And I think that people who were there knew very little about our culture and what we thought we were doing so the misunderstanding was from both sides and I think it is fascinating to try and find out more about how some of the people that live in the countries where we have been to have understood us and seen us and I think, certainly in Iraq and definitely in Afghanistan as well, we were often used as tools in local conflict which were completely unaware of. I think the idea of how cultures keep history alive and deal with history is really interesting looking at Iraq and Afghanistan. In Afghanistan people saw a direct continuum from last time we were there whilst we did not see that continuum at all, we were very unaware of what we had done in the country before. The average soldier on the ground had very little knowledge of the British role in Afghanistan, that was a lot of ignorance around it but of lot of Afghani people knew that and that was almost modern history to them because they saw history in a different way to how we saw it. There was not only a cross cultural confusion but also almost like a temporal confusion and you couldn’t help it, driving through some places in Iraq, but feel like you had gone back in time, in history.
Q. I feel like the most powerful message in war literature is that while wars are perhaps decided to change borders or keep borders, when you read about the human experience of war you realize that there are no borders because people who actually experience war they experience it in the same traumatic way. Would you agree with that?
A. Yes, definitely. And I think it is easier to get that in Second World War literature, it was times where soldiers from both sides felt that they had a lot more in common with each other than they did with the people back home that they were representing, those shared experiences they were having, the shared hardships. I think it has been less evident in some of the recent wars because the differences in cultural have been greater. If you look at differences in cultures between Russia, Germany, Italy, France back in that time, they were at pretty similar points in their developments and as European culture they had a lot more similarities I think. But I think definitely it has been interesting for the current book I am working at to look from a soldier’s point of view at what actually motivates them, what it is important to the soldier, how quickly any sort of ideology that you might have gone to war with because you believed in it and a lot of people do it becomes it is actually me surviving with this tiny group of people in this tiny bit of land and it becomes about a hill, a wood or a trench rather than a nation and a city and wars are fought for the most part in small bits of territories. In the current book, it has been interesting going through the official war diary that might have a one line entry describing an incident and yet in someone’s diary you find described in two chapters that one line because for that individual it was such a momentous happening in their life.
Q. Do you feel that the projects you support with your writing, like the war writers campaign, the fact that is about supporting people telling their stories, connects with what we have said before about the moral duty of storytelling?
A. Yes, I think so and I think it is in the concept of having associative duties so all of us, by being in a community or by being in an army unit, have duties to the people who we live with. And that sense of duty becomes really heightened in an army environment in which you have specific duties to your comrades and for most people those duties do not end when you leave that operational tour or even when you leave the forces, you maintain those duties. I think that for all of us in the wider society, we have duties to each other and I think we are all narrative beings, we need to tell our stories. In that way, putting all that together, we all have the duty to help each other tell our stories and I think that goes for each individual with their families and friends helping them telling their stories, keeping those stories alive, having those private conversations and what happened to people reach a wider audience.
I would like to thank Andy Owen for his availability, his kindness and for answering all of my questions and Dr. Fraser Mann for setting up the interview, for introducing me to Andy Owen and for having supported me during the interview.
Andy Owen served in the Intelligence Corps of the British Army reaching the rank of Captain. He completed operational tours in Northern Ireland (2003), Iraq (2004 and 2005) and on intelligence duties in Helmand Province, Afghanistan in 2007. He published his first novel, “Invective”, in 2014.
On Thursday the 23rd of January, as part of the York Literature Festival, Andy Owen presented his second novel, “East of Coker” (2016), about the personal aftermath of conflict. Interviewed by Dr. Fraser Mann, he explored the themes of his novel, which uses TS Eliot’s “The Waste Land” as a structural and thematic starting point, asking challenging questions about our responsibilities to those that have seen and experienced war. He explained how Eliot’s poem has influenced him both for its use of language and for the way he uses myth to relate contemporary events to past events, showing the cyclic nature of history. Owen uses myth in own novel for the same reasons, and also uses references to a whole range of literary texts creating an intertextual layer that makes his novel fascinating and engaging. He believes that, has TS Eliot himself said, “good writers borrow, great writers steal” and that writer, when starting a book, finds himself in stream where all that is been written before washes upon him, making intertextuality in this sense an unconscious process of awareness.
.@FraserYSJ kicks off this evening’s @YorkLitFest event at @YorkStJohn with author @owen_andy #YorkLitFest pic.twitter.com/bEdzAM4p83
— Dr Adam James Smith (@elementaladam) March 23, 2017
Andy Owen also reflected on the importance of literature and storytelling in creating empathy. Sharing stories of people suffering of PTSD because of their war experiences can help people to better understand how it feels to suffer the aftermath of conflict, increasing understanding and helping to fight the stigma that surrounds mental health issues, especially in the military environment. Regarding the importance of storytelling in dealing with trauma, Andy Owen also spoke about his collaboration with the War Writers Campaign and their work with veterans and PTSD professionals. The aim of this charity association is, through written awareness, to change the social perception about veterans’ issues and to promote mental therapy through the literary world and through creative writing. It is possible to find out more about War Writers Campaign at
http://www.warwriterscampaign.org/ and more about Shoulder to Shoulder, another association that helps veterans with mental health issues in Glasgow and with which Andy Owen collaborates, at http://timebank.org.uk/shoulder-to-shoulder .
Read Nicoletta’s interview with Andy Owen tomorrow on Point Zero.
On Wednesday the 22nd of March, as a part of York Literature Festival, Dr. Adam Smith guided the audience through the life and poetry of James Montgomery delivering an engaging performance combining readings of Montgomery’s poetry with interesting insight of the biography of this complex historical character.
Trailer for Adam Smith's performance on Montgomery at Sheffield's "Festival of the Mind" in 2016.
Montgomery was born in Scotland, the son of missionaries of the Moravian Brethren. He was sent to be trained for the ministry at the Moravian School at Fulneck, near Leeds. At Fulneck, secular studies were banned, but James nevertheless found means of borrowing and reading a good deal of poetry and made ambitious plans to write epics of his own. Failing school, he was apprenticed to a baker in Mirfield. After further adventures, including an unsuccessful attempt to launch himself into a literary career in London, he moved to Sheffield to work at the Sheffield Register, directed by Joseph Gales. At the Register, a newspaper of radical ideas, Montgomery rediscovered his passion for literature and started to write inflamed poems in the poetry section of the publication, the “Repository of Genius”, regarding themes such as the abolition of slavery and the conditions of the working class. In 1794, Gales left England to avoid political prosecution and Montgomery took the paper in hand, changing its name to the Sheffield Iris. These were times of political repression and Montgomery was charged with sedition and treason for the publication of a poem that he never wrote and imprisoned in 1975 at York Castle prison for three months. He continued to write poems that were sent to the Iris and to which readers responded. A pamphlet of poems written during his captivity will be published in 1796 as “Prison Amusements”. After his release, Montgomery is charged again in less than a year for criticizing a magistrate for forcibly dispersing a political protest in Sheffield. After this experiences James Montgomery’s life started to change. He turned away to politics and activism and turned to business. He carried on writing poems and started to write hymns. He later was decorated with the title of Poet Laureate and became a Tory MP.
Did James Montgomery become the establishment he was fighting against? Did he turn his back to his ideals? He was definitely a complex and fascinating character and, as Dr. Adam Smith reminded us, even though his political views changed the theme of slavery always remained extremely important to him and Montgomery definitely never turned his back to literature and poetry.
The performance that Dr. Adam Smith delivered at York St John’s University as part of the York Literature Festival is part of a wider research regarding the connection between poetry and radical protest in Sheffield between 1790 and 1810. The focus on James Montgomery is one of the results of this broader research ending in “The Wagtail Poet Prison Project”. It is possible to find out more about this project at https://yorkwagtailpoets.wordpress.com and it is also possible to respond to James Montgomery’s prison poems either creatively or critically getting in touch with Dr. Adam Smith at a.smith3@yorksj.ac.uk .