Shiver me timbers

The Ghosts of Lynn

Goodnight, sweet prince,

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

Hamlet

 Act 5, Scene 2

The town of Lynn, once Bishop's Lynn and then, thanks to Henry VIII, King's Lynn, might possibly be related to Dublin and Lincoln, through their connection with pools of water, which may have been used to collect salt. It probably isn't related to Linford Christie, Gary Winston Lineker, my old cock linnet, or Der Lindenbaum, 

Am Brunnen vor dem Tore,

Da steht ein Lindenbaum;

Ich träumt’ in seinem Schatten 

So manchen süssen Traum,

But those are other stories.....  What you may be surprised to know is that there is a very plausible connection to William Shakespeare, probable author of such witticisms as:

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest 

Act 4, Scene 1

And what, I hear you cry, is this? The Swan of Avon, washed up on the banks of the Great Ouse?

Sweet Swan of Auon! what a sight it were

To see thee in our waters yet appeare,

And make those flights vpon the bankes of Thames,

That so did take Eliza, and our Iames!

Ben Jonson

Yes, well, the likelihood is giant. And its footprint is in King Street, in St George’s Guildhall, which is owned by the National Trust and managed by King’s Lynn Borough Council and which is now confirmed to be the oldest working theatre space in the country.....

Until recently the interior of St George's Guildhall looked like this:

Currently, it looks like this:

And you may visit it any day (except Sundays) until August 31st to see and hear about the history of the building (built in 1419 and containing the largest area of 15th century timber floor in the country).  

So, what's this got to do with his Bardship, you moan? Well, this is the thing. Tim FitzHigham, Creative Director of the archaeological project to restore the theatre, has this to say: These are the boards used by Shakespeare’s company during the plague closures of 1592/3, making it a site of international cultural significance.....

And for proof we have....?  Well, this is what the Guildhall's website has to say:

There has been a long tradition that Shakespeare played at the Guildhall in King’s Lynn. People in King’s Lynn were told this by their parents who were told this by their parents and grandparents. This is not new. For example, in 1766 the pub next to the Guildhall (now called Shakespeare House) was named the Shakespeare Pub and had a picture of Shakespeare on the front of it to reflect these links. There are several things which support the oral tradition of the town. In 1592/3 the company associated with Shakespeare, the Earl of Pembroke’s Men, were paid to play in King’s Lynn when the theatres in London were shut due to the plague. At this time Shakespeare was an actor as well as a writer according to a work by Robert Greene of 1954 [1594?   Ed.] calling Shakespeare an ‘upstart crow’ [Not to be confused with D Mitchell's creepy smug TV stuff.  Ed].

Shakespeare’s comedian Robert Armin [Not to be confused with his grate nuncle, Idi.  Ed]  was born in King’s Lynn one street from the theatre..... Armin was a very close collaborator of Shakespeare’s and was the first person to play many of the most famous comedic roles Shakespeare created ['Til Deaf us do part; Dad's Barmy; Faulty Powers; et al. Ed]. Documents from Shakespeare’s lifetime reference an event that occurred in the theatre in ‘Linn, Norfolk’ which is said to have inspired Shakespeare to write part of the plot of Hamlet....

So, it is more than a random chance that Shakespeare actually ducked through this doorway (notwithstanding the semblance that they could be bricked up - Crollalanza era un mago!):

And maybe even this one:

Peered out of this window:

Stepped through this passageway:

And took the air (or had a pipe) in this courtyard:

Which includes an Art Gallery in memory of Lord Fermoy, whose wife provided for the until recent theatre seating, thereby ensuring the survival of the building through the latter part of the twentieth century and into the current secolo..... 

If it be now, ’tis not to come: if it be not to come, it will be now: if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.

Hamlet

Act 5, Scene 2

All the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players.

They have their exits and their entrances; 

And one man in his time plays many parts.

As You Like It

Act 2, Scene 7

So, what else was there in Lynn 400 or so years ago?

The Minster and Priory Church of St Margaret, St Mary Magdalene and all the Virgin Saints was founded as a Benedictine Priory in 1101 by Herbert de Losinga, the first Bishop of Norwich. For 400 years it was the monks’ home as well as the Parish Church for the town. It was always known as St Margaret’s and would not have been very different, despite efforts by H8 [You mean Henery the Eighth; not hate, surely?  Ed] in Shakespeare's time from what we see now:  

I am one who loved not wisely but too well.

Othello

Act 5, Scene 2

[No.... that's a different story....Ed.]

So we also have the largest chapel-of-ease in England, St Nicholas Chapel (rebuilt between 1380 and 1410 but currently closed because of a problem with one of the roof beams [Elf and Safety gone mad?  Ed]) which would have been architecturally (if not from a glassware point of view) much as it is now.

Another building that was definitely here in the time of WS, is the Red Mount Chapel. It was built in 1485 as a wayside chapel for pilgrims landing at King's Lynn; a place to stop and pray before undertaking the overland journey to Walsingham, or to pray before leaving England after a visit to the shrine. It was/is known as the Chapel of Our Lady of the Mount, and is to be found in The Walks.

Then, although wrecked and suppressed (in 1538) by Enery and his 'enchpeople there would have been at least the Tower of the Greyfriars' Priory:

And while in the late 16th century the Trinity Guildhall housed a prison, the finely windowed first floor would have been there.....

And below stairs in several of the riverside buildings there were cellars which originally may have had direct access to the quayside or even to the river with the potential for rewarding import/export businesses.....

And all compacted into a relatively small area alongside the Great Ouse, making Lynn one of the most important ports in England.  From the 13th century Lynn had been a part of the Hanseatic League, and, though trade had declined by Shakespeare's time it was (and still is) an active port.

With narrow lanes leading to the riverside.

Out, out brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Macbeth

Act 5, Scene 5

Back in the undercroft of the St George's Guildhall, it isn't hard to sense the spirit of Crollalanza in the blind arches and niches, in the ancient timbers and hand-made bricks. Is that the ghost of Banquo?

Prithee, see there. Behold, look! How say you?

Macbeth

Act 3, scene 4

Or does King Hamlet lie there?

Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I’ll go no further.

Hamlet

Act 1, scene 5

So....  What does this add up to?  Does it matter?  Well, in my 'umble opinion, yes it does.  We need to recognise our past and to learn from it.  Without history and heritage we are lesser creatures, with little reference by which to gauge our actions. Whether William Shakespeare himself ever actually drew breath in Lynn is, in itself, not necessarily going to alter what we do or think, but to register the continuity of human endeavour and to recognise the achievements, and the mistakes, of our forebears, inevitably makes us richer in many ways.  And had St George's Guildhall been pulled down and turned into a car showroom, for example, we would all be, in some ways, poorer.

Is this nothing?

Why then the world and all that’s in’t is nothing:

The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing,

My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings,

If this be nothing.

Leontes

The Winter's Tale

 Act 1, Scene 2

So, if you can get to see the exposed timbers and be guided round St George's Guildhall you won't regret it. Then, perhaps in 2028, we will all be able to enjoy performances in the restored oldest working theatre in England.  

The rest [For now. Ed] is silence.

Hamlet 

Act 5, Scene 2

*****

For further information, please see:

https://stgeorgesguildhall.com/heritage/

Dedicato alla memoria della nonna di CJS 

(ed anche a CJS stessa)

Memory: Loss

 A short walk along the Norfolk Coast.....

Well.... Here goes.... Back down memory lane for a moment.....

Amanda with Henry Moore's Large Figure in a Shelter.

Last year, in January, shortly before Amanda died, I walked from our home in Snettisham, via Amanda in her care home, then along the Norfolk Coast Path to Wells-next-the-sea (a total of 32 miles in two days). This raised £4,568.96 + £739.00 Gift Aid for The National Brain Appeal....

{....and should you wish to know more about that, please see: https://www.richardpgibbs.org/2024/01/fundraising-for-national-brain-appeal.html}

Amanda at Wells-next-the-sea in 2004

Amanda died, however, on February 1st last year, and so, starting on the anniversary this year, I aim to complete the Coast Path from Wells to Great Yarmouth, a distance of approximately 60 miles.  I hope to reach Weybourne on the first day....

Then on to Mundesley for the second night, Ingham for the third, and, if the stars align and god wills it, I shall stumble into Great Yarmouth on the fourth day.

It is going to be quite tough, I think, partly because the weather forecast isn't great, and partly because, having just topped 74 years, my knees aren't quite as good as they were, and I have recently been diagnosed with wear and tear in my meniscuses..... [Any old iscuse.... Ed]

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold - W B Yeats

However, driven on by my memories of loss, I am eager to raise money for The National Brain Appeal, which provides much-needed funds to support The National Hospital for Neurology & Neurosurgery and the UCL Queen Square Institute of Neurology {– together known as Queen Square (London). This is one of the world’s leading centres for the diagnosis, treatment and care of patients with neurological and neuromuscular conditions. These include stroke, multiple sclerosis, brain cancer, epilepsy, Parkinson’s disease, and dementia.}  

Queen Square supported Amanda and me throughout the twelve or so years of her dementia, and, given that there are 14.7 million people affected by neurological conditions in the UK, that 600,000 people are diagnosed with a neurological condition each year and that currently at least 850,000 people act as carers for those affected, I believe the NBA is a really worthwhile cause.

But, sadly, we have moved on, and as Gertrude reminds her son:

..... all that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.

William Shakespeare

Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2

We have to deal with our memories, and our losses.  Life is not, despite what some will have you believe, a competition, so we must not fall into the trap of being sore losers (nor seek pardon).  Years ago I resolved never to make New Year Resolutions, but, if I were to make one now, it might be to make the most of the infinitely expanded present.....

*****

Should you wish to contribute to the National Brain Appeal, sponsoring my walk, please follow this link:

https://www.justgiving.com/page/richard-gibbs-1735565578129

*****

Come, see

real flowers

of this painful world.

BASHO

Road to Utopia

 Pretty Poison(s)

Years ago I saw a film called Pretty Poison starring Anthony Perkins and Tuesday Weld.  It was released in 1968 so maybe I saw it round about then....  It has stuck in my mind, partly because Anthony Perkins (Norman Bates: Psycho) was most effective as the disturbed young man (Dennis Pitt), and partly because I clearly remember the scene where they sabotage a factory which was pouring coloured effluents into a river.  

In my mind that was what the film was about - industrial pollution - and I can still see those pipes of bright fluids spouting into the river water. But now I look it up I find that it's actually about alienated youth, not unlike Terence Malick's wonderful Badlands (1973).

But the title still resonates.  And it tinkles like ice in a glass every time I fix a drink..... which is perhaps why there is the resonance?

A dry martini on a roof terrace overlooking Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome at sunset.....

A gin and tonic in my new home in Norfolk......

A glass of pink wine on a hotel terrace in rural Lazio....

Or a beer and an Arehucas chaser of an evening in the Canaries.....

Yes folks, this is the Road to Utopia.....

Wherever I go I am attracted by the phrase, What's your poison?  Even if it's a rhetorical question, or one whispered by a six foot rabbit (called Harvey) in my ear.....  

And strangely, perhaps, these attractions all have one ingredient in common, which is CH3CH2OH or C2H6O, or ethanol, which, according to my interweb,  has a role as an antiseptic drug, a polar solvent, a neurotoxin, a central nervous system depressant, a teratogenic agent, a NMDA receptor antagonist, a protein kinase C agonist, a disinfectant, a human metabolite, a Saccharomyces cerevisiae metabolite, an Escherichia coli metabolite and a mouse metabolite. It is a primary alcohol, an alkyl alcohol, a volatile organic compound and a member of ethanols. It is a conjugate acid of an ethoxide.....

So gimme a lemonade.....  In a dirty glass.....

I blame my mum and dad....

Or, rather, I thank my mum and dad.  For just about everything.  They never made me drink, but dad's occasional bottle of Tolly Cobbold on the Sunday lunch table, with its enticing neck label of a scantily clad lady, may have influenced me.

Or perhaps it was living in Europe?

That undiscovered country from whose bourn

No traveler returns, puzzles the will

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

I know it's bad for me.  

But let us be honest, the one thing that leads to death is life.

O for a beaker full of the warm South, 

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, 

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, 

And purple-stained mouth; 

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, 

And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

 

I find great solace in these pretty poisons.  For me a pleasant evening pastime is to sit with a glass and a book.  A pleasure that is redoubled with two glasses; in this case, one of white wine and one with a peach steeped in red wine.  

Aaahh.....

I do not wish to make light of suffering or illness.  Moderation is almost certainly a good thing, and I am not convinced by Blake's Hellish Proverb that: The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom... Though there is sense in his rider that, You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.

On August 26th this year my friend Truman would have been 109, had his long lease of life not run out a little while ago.  In celebration of his contribution to our collective happiness, friends and family will raise a glass to his memory on that day.  Unfortunately, with Covid and other complications, not everyone can make the trip to Trevignano, but glasses will be raised.  

Just as he raised a good many himself.  Pretty much to his dying day he enjoyed a tumbler of Jack Daniels Number 7, with ice and water, in the evening.

As the song goes:

Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, 

If the women don't get you, the liquor must....

But if you make it to 108 past a few empty bottles of these pretty poisons then there must be worse things?

But back to the film.  Alienated youth is one thing.  Industrial pollution is another.  Neither are good. Both are major headaches.....

Just thinking about it makes me want a drink.....

Cheers....!