Rosemary Sutcliff reader Charlotte Higgins on Samuel Johnson non-fiction shortlist | The Guardian

Under Another Sky by Charlotte Higgins has been nominated for the short-list for the Samuel Johnson non-fiction prize. She has in the past written of her re-reading of Rosemary Sutcliff’s The Eagle of the Ninth, ‘a childhood favourite‘. In the Guardian she has written briefly about her encounter with Roman Britain.

My academic training is as a classicist; but during my education, and for a long time afterwards, I wasn’t interested in Roman Britain – it struck me as a rather unglamorous, somewhat dreary outpost of the empire. Everything changed when, one spring, I went walking on Hadrian’s wall. I began to think about how the remnants of Roman Britain formed part of our mental and physical landscape. What had those who lived among these remains made of them? How had ideas about Britain’s Roman period shaped ideas about nationhood and empire?

The journey I took was a literal one: two summers were spent trundling around in a VW camper van in search of the physical remains of Roman Britain. I certainly revised my old, ignorant views of them when faced with such sites as the magnificent coastal military installation of Burgh Castle in Norfolk, or Hardknott in Cumbria, a spectacular fort perched on a steep mountain pass. I spent many months in libraries and archives; it was a particular pleasure seeking out antiquarian accounts of Roman Britain, from William Camden in the 16th century to writings by the learned and eccentric scholars of the 18th century.

I also became intrigued by the notion of Roman Britain as a generative place for art and ideas. Figures such as WH Auden, Wilfred Owen, Edward Elgar and Benjamin Britten had been inspired by Roman Britain, not to mention authors such as Rosemary Sutcliff, but it had also sparked apparently humbler encounters: the Bristol builder who recreated a Romano-British mosaic in 1.6m tesserae; the amateur scholar who cracked an academic conundrum while running his children’s bath; the Newcastle seller of kitchens who became a full-time centurion, working in the modern heritage industry.

Under Another Sky is a book about the encounter with Roman Britain: my own, and that of others who came before me. I found Roman Britain to be an elusive, slippery place and time, offering up more anxieties and doubts than certainties. Above all writing the book was, for me, a way of trying to understand our present, by looking it at it through the lens of long ago.

via Samuel Johnson non-fiction shortlist: From the Romans to Thatcher | Books | The Guardian.

Another Roman eagle rises again in London after 2,000 years

Roman eagle rises again in London after 2,000 years – Architecture – Arts & Entertainment – The Independent.

Because the Badgers are moving the goalposts … and the Bustards have broken the bank.

I have been away  from this again, as regular followers will have noticed. Moving house, and  trouble at my new employment (now ex-employment) have kept me away; not least because all my books and files to do with Rosemary (Sutcliff) are in store as we sort out our new home. But I am now warming up again to both reading and writing. So here, somewhat randomly, not  something specific to Rosemary (Sutcliff), but an excellent poem from Carol Ann Duffy published this weekend in The Guardian. They reported that “it (has taken) the pile-up of recent political controversies including the badger cull and the bedroom tax to lure her back into verse.”  The inanities of political and managerial clichés too perhaps? And Rosemary was always counselling me when writing to avoid both unnecessary commas and clichés …

22 Reasons for the Bedroom Tax

Because the Badgers are moving the goalposts.
The Ferrets are bending the rules.
The Weasels are taking the hindmost.
The Otters are downing tools.

The Hedgehogs are changing the game-plan
The Grass-snakes are spitting tacks.

The Squirrels are playing the blame-game.
The Skunks are twisting the facts.

The Pole-cats are upping the ante.
The Foxes are jumping the gun.
The Voles are crashing the party.
The Stoats are dismantling the Sun.

The Rabbits are taking the biscuit.
The Hares are losing the plot.
The Eagles are kicking the bucket.
The Rats are joining the dots.

The Herons are throwing a curveball.
The Shrews are fanning the flames.
The Field mice are sinking the 8-ball.
The Swans are passing the blame.

And the Pheasants are draining the oil from the tank-
but only the Bustards have broken the bank.

Eminent historical novelist Rosemary Sutcliff made big change to Tristan and Iseult story in 1971

Inside cover of retelling of Tristan and Iseult by Rosemary Sutcliff

Rosemary Sutcliff wrote in the foreword to her “starkly simple” retelling of the story of Tristan and Iseult (OUP, 1971) about “one big change” she made in the story:

… In its far-back beginnings, Tristan is a Celtic legend, a tale woven by harpers around the peat fire in the timber halls of Irish or Welsh or Cornish chieftains, long before the time of chivalrous knights and fair ladies and turreted castles in which it is generally set.

The medieval troubadours took it and enriched it, and dressed it in beautiful medieval clothes, but if you look, you can still see the Celtic story, fiercer and darker, ad (despite the changes) more real, underneath. In this retelling I have tried to get back to the Celtic original as much as possible, and in doing this I have made one big change in the story.

In all the versions that we know, Tristan and Iseult fall in  love because they accidentally drink together a love potion which was meant for Iseult and her husband King Marc on their wedding night. Now the story of Tristan and Iseult is basically the same as two other great Celtic love stories, Diarmid and Grania, and Deidre and the sons of Usna, and in neither of them is there any suggestion of a love potion. I am sure in my own mind that the medieval storytellers added it to make the excuse for being in love with each other when Iseult was married to somebody else. And for me, this turns something that was real and living and part of themselves into something artificial, the result of drinking a sort of magic drug.

So I have left out the love potion.

Because everybody else who has retold the tale in the past eight hundred years has kept it in, it is only fair to tell you this. I can only tell the story  in the way which feels right to me in my own heart of hearts.

“No-one could ever give Rosemary Sutcliff an E. Only ever an A+!” | Katy Moran

There are various posts on this blog about spelling Sutcliff (sic) without an E. I have been on one of my trawls through twitter for the rogue E, as in Sutcliffe.  The mistake is not only in occasional tweets  – even sometimes her own publishers get it wrong. However,  I just love a  tweet today in response to one of my nudges. Thank you Katy Moran!