The Little Bookroom

Eleanor Farjeon

Out of all everything that I’ve ever wanted in life, near the top of the list would be my own private library.  I imagine a room with floor to ceiling bookcases and a moving ladder so I can reach the top shelves. There’s a desk in my library and of course, an old brown chesterfield so that I can laze the day away with a good book and a curled up cat. My library consists of classics and travel books so that I can continue to pursue the classic writers I’ve fallen in love with over the past 49 years. There’s a special place for my sacred blog books and the sun streams through the window in the afternoons.  It might sound cliché to you, but to me, this is paradise.

If we leave my private library and go into an attic with piles of dusty books that have not been arranged in any logical order, we enter the childhood of Eleanor Farjeon. I can only imagine how wonderful it must have been to spend time rummaging for something that introduces you to new characters and places you’ve never been, in a private world of your own.

At the age of five, Eleanor Farjeon’s father encouraged her to start writing. She has been described as a timid child and was known to her family as ‘Nellie’. Farjeon suffered poor eyesight and ill-health and spent a lot of her time in the attic reading. Her inspiration for her most famous book, Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard, came not from that quiet attic, but from family holidays.

A compilation of Eleanor Farjeon's favourites

After World War I, Farjeon earned a living as a poet and if you don’t think you know any of her work then think again.  Eleanor Farjeon is responsible for the lyrics to the Hymn Morning has Broken. The correct title of the poem is ‘A Morning Song (for the first day of spring)’. This was also made popular in the 70’s by Cat Stevens and was number one on the US charts. There is a link at the end of the blog for your entertainment

Eleanor Farjeon was born in 1881 and passed away in 1965.  I’ve seen some changes throughout my life, but coming from the Victorian age to the Swinging Sixties must have been a whirlwind of an adventure. Throughout those years, she became friends with writers such as D H Lawrence and Walter de la Mare. Although she loved children, she never had any of her own, which is kind of a shame because it’s always nice to read the stories that you’ve written to your own children.

Farjeon's grave in the Churchyard of St John-at-Hampstead

In the little attic book room, Eleanor Farjeon developed a ferocious appetite for words and literature.  She knew how to reach children with her writing and created incredible adventures that make you want to dance in a barn. 

 Like Eleanor Farjeon, I love to read and I love to write. One day I’ll have that library that I’ve dreamt of for so long now, but at the moment I’m happy to be inspired by a girl from Victorian England whose imagination developed Once upon a time in a dust filled attic full of stories and adventures.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0TInLOJuUM

And he himself was tall and thin, with sharp blue eyes, each like a pin.

Robert Browning

Of all of the poetry that I’ve ever read, I must admit that there is one that stands out from the others. The poem is Robert Browning’s rendition of The Pied Piper of Hamelin. I’ve read the story on several occasions, but I like the poem best.

Robert Browning was a master of verse.  He was born in Camberwell in 1812 and was lucky enough to be raised in a house with incredible literary sources. Browning’s father encouraged his interest in literature. Although he had inherited a sizable musical ability from his mother, Browning pursued his interest in poetry and his father paid for the publications.

You might remember that I blogged about Elizabeth Barrett Browning a few weeks ago and Robert is the contributor of the latter name.  They married in 1846 and travelled to Italy for Elizabeth’s health. After her death, he returned to London and became part of the London Literary scene. His poetic style was favourable and he was a serious contender for Poet Laureate in 1850 when Wordsworth passed away.

Browning’s poetry wasn’t really aimed at children, but the legend of the Pied Piper became a children’s story and Browning’s poem is quite witty.

The poem as a book,

 

There are several different theories as to what actually happened to the children of Hamelin. I find it difficult to believe that they were swallowed up by a hillside cave never to be seen again, but the story is kind of creepy.  There are some who actually believe that the Pied Piper was some sort of psychopathic paedophile who led the children away for his own devices. There is also the idea that all people of a town are the town’s children and that these particular folk left Hamelin to settle parts of Transylvania.  To me, it’s almost like a game of Chinese whispers where as the story gets passed along it gets a little foggier and harder to interpret.

Robert Browning is buried in Poet’s corner in Westminster Abbey.  Unfortunately, photography is forbidden, but it’s worth a visit if you’re ever in London.  He was an amazing man who could turn anything into a poem, and all of this happened Once upon a time in the 1800s.

 

 

And yet to every bad there is a worse.

Thomas Hardy

London is a busy place.  Trying to push your way along Regent Street on a Sunday is ridiculously difficult, not to mention annoying.  I guess it’s like every big city – they get busy.  At the beginning of the year I moved from busy London Bridge out into the western suburbs of the city where it’s a lot quieter and the view a little better. It’s still noisy of course and at certain times it’s still busy, but not so much on the road where I live. I’m not saying I don’t like central London though; in fact, it could be a lot worse.

I once read a book called Far from the Madding Crowd. The story is rurally set and focusses on the characters and their lives working their farms.  It’s all about the lives and misfortunes of these particular characters and how they overcome them, and it’s written by a man called Thomas Hardy.

Thomas Hardy lived in Trinity Road Wandsworth

Unlike a lot of the writers that I’ve researched, Thomas Hardy’s education ended at the age of 16.  In Dorchester, his father worked as a Stone Mason and local builder. His family couldn’t afford University so Hardy became an apprentice and trained as an architect in Dorchester until he left for London where he enrolled himself in Kings College. Thomas Hardy won prizes in architecture and he was in charge of the excavation of the St Pancras old church graveyard when the railway was built. This unenviable task included the removal of bodies and tombs and there is a particular tree in the churchyard there called the Hardy tree where the headstones have been arranged around the trunk. Although Hardy was a great architect, nobody can deny that he was a brilliant writer.

The Hardy Tree - St Pancras old church graveyard

In Far from the Madding Crowd, Gabriel Oak has his own property until one night one of his dogs rounds his sheep up and they all end up over a cliff.  Oak then has to work for other farmers in the district, but this guy always seems to be in the right place at the right time, kind of like Superman.  I know it’s only a story, but when you read it and think about how he could have ended up, it kind of makes you believe that no matter how bad things seem, it can always get worse.  In the case of Gabriel Oak, his life was full of ups and downs, but it got better. I could wax lyrical about the story until the cows come home and I’m pleased that Hardy tried his hand at writing and didn’t just stick to architecture.                 

Thomas Hardy was born in 1840 in Dorchester and passed away in 1928 in Dorchester. He is now buried in Stinsford parish church.  His birthplace and his home Max Gate are both owned by the National Trust and I am sorry to say that I have not yet visited either.  To say that he loved London would be a lie, but what I can honestly say is, Once upon a time in the 1800’s an Englishman followed a path that led me Far from the Madding Crowd. I urge you to go there!

How do I love thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

When you think about how times have changed and the way writers used to be the comparison is quite significant. In a time where a gentleman would read poetry to his lady and never call unannounced, poets used their skills to enhance life and even help you fall in love. This still goes on of course, but the idea of reading a poem to someone in a garden is slightly cheesy and if there is poetry of any kind, it’s usually inside a greeting card purchased in February.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Born in the Victorian era in 1806, Elizabeth Barrett Moulton-Barrett was the eldest of 12 children. A studious child, she read constantly and was clearly advanced for her age. Elizabeth was home schooled and spent her childhood at Hope End in Herefordshire. At the age of ten, Barrett Browning had already started writing her own poetry and her father called her the poet laureate of Hope End.

During her teenage years, this young poet read Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman and became a passionate supporter of Wollstonecraft’s views. Knowing that she had no chance of the type of education that was bestowed upon her brothers, she still persisted. She also opposed slavery and published two poems on the subject, although, much of her wealth came from slave labour and her father believed that the abolition of slavery would ruin his business. But it was in Wimpole Street in London that she wrote her best poetry and in 1844, her volume of poetry made one of the most popular writers in England.

The dedication in Wimpole Street London.

 

Robert Browning was an admirer of her work and wrote to her of it.  Thus began their relationship. After a secret courtship and a private marriage, they honeymooned in Paris where they probably spent hours reading poetry to each other.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning passed on in 1861. Her Sonnet XLIII or How do I Love Thee, is possibly one of the most romantic poems to date and the envy of greeting card poets everywhere. It came to light Once upon a time in an age where education was somewhat elusive to women and romantic poetry was a man’s forte. But this work will outshine others in its genre in many ways, you can count them if you like.