City of Dreaming Spires
Notes on a Visit to Oxford
Before I begin my notes on a visit to Oxford, writers will be interested to know that my publisher Linen Press are seeking submissions for a new anthology of poetry and short-form prose, title, Don’t Look Now, that bear witness to what for many have been difficult times - the world of 2024 and 2025. The editors want your despair but also your hope. Details can be found on the Linen Press website, under the option entitled - the latest - (apologies for the lack of link, I’m doing this on the hoof - hence the ‘Notes,’ of the title) Will include a direct link in my next post.
It’s been very cold and very damp in Oxford but I’ve loved being here among the dreaming spires, wandering from college to cafe, from bookshop to museum, catching up with family and meeting old friends who came up from London especially to see us. Walking, forever walking as you do in the city.
My partner John, my brother and his partner and myself, made a pilgrimage to the beautiful village of Iffley where fifty years ago tomorrow friends were married in the stunning Norman church with its John Piper window. It was here, at this wedding, that John and I first connected, here that we began our fifty-year relationship. Yes, fifty years. It would have seemed unthinkable then…
On Saturday we went to hear Jerry Douglas, Transatlantic Sessions, which comprised a group of the finest folk and country musicians from Scotland, Ireland and across the pond. But for me, it was the guest appearance of Loudon Wainwright the third, at 78 the oldest man on stage, who stole the show. He tore it up. Although written some years ago, his song - It’s Only the Middle of the Night - delivered with such vigour and passion became an anthem of hope for what he called these, ‘dark times.’
Oxford is full of good places in which to write, though you need to be out early to grab your space. I brought a printed copy of my manuscript with me and have been slowly working through an on-the-page edit. I find, as I often do, that many pages need only micro editing, but that one or two need rewriting and that there are several gaps or blunt transitions where entirely fresh writing is needed.
On Monday I took the manuscript to Cafe Nero in Blackwells bookshop. I bagged a spot, bought my americano and croissant and settled down to work. An hour and a half later when I decided to take a walk and find another writing spot, just as I was leaving, a guy also leaving, asked me how my work had gone. We got into conversation and it was then he told me he’d been drawing me while I worked. I had no idea, not having noticed him at all. He showed me the sketch.
Being vain, I thought it made me look very old. But then I guess I am old. I’m not sure it looks much like me but what a beautiful drawing. He was a really interesting and charming man who I discovered afterwards was also incredibly modest. He is in fact the renowned watercolour artist - David Paskett and you can find him, along with many of his extraordinary and beautiful paintings, at davidpaskett.co.uk
As we walked along Broad Street together, we talked about literature and art, about drawing, writing by hand, about poetry and line. He told me I looked very fierce when I was writing; perhaps concentration I said, or perhaps in this case the subject matter of the memoir. I guess it was serendipity that we met like this. It’s not everyday you meet someone who you think in another situation might become a friend, or who has been surreptitiously sketching you while you work.
I will be returning from Oxford with an edited manuscript of Handmade, a new copy of Angel Hill - a collection of Michael Longley poems, a moleskin sketchbook which I’d bought before I met the artist because I sometimes like writing in a landscape sketchbook. And, last but not least, a new poem - about Loudon Wainwright 3rd - and when I’ve polished it up, I’ll publish here.
I think it’s looking like I’ll publish my memoir, Handmade, here in April - I hope I will have it ready by April at the latest.
Thank you again, so much, all of you who are supporting my new year venture of contributing everything I earn ( though it won’t be much) through writing in 2025 to the charity Medicins Sans Frontieres. I will give an updated donation total next time round. If you are new here and would like to join me, please update your subscription to paid ( you can do it for just a month and then unsubscribe, in which case it will cost a mere $5 )
As always thanks for reading
Avril x
Here we are in Iffley church - 50 years on !
