Redhead - Ian Cook

I recently read Redhead by Ian Cook. It’s a supernatural thriller and I would describe it as something of a cross between a Dan Brown novel and The Wicker Man. As the title would suggest the focus of the book is red hair and people with it. Given that I have a website about red hair it was right up my alley.

I really enjoyed the book and I would recommend it to redheads and non-redheads alike. It’s very visual and cinematic. In fact it would make a great movie - if there’s anyone from the British film industry reading I would buy a copy (it’s about time we started making esoteric, science-fiction again).

The story itself centres around a journalist’s investigation into the seemingly worldwide ritual murder of redheads that’s taking place. It begins in Carthage with visions of human child sacrifice and builds towards a dramatic climax amidst the Neolithic stones of Scotland - taking in ancient Egypt and Easter Island along the way. The book plays upon the palpable ‘otherness’ that’s often associated with red hair and ups the ante a fair bit. I’ll be really interested to see how the book is received by people who don’t have red hair.

And by people with red hair for that matter. It should be interesting.

John Wycliffe was a Teessider

I’ve just found out that John Wycliffe, the instigator of the Lollard movement, was a Teessider! He was born in Ipreswell (modern Hipswell), in North Yorkshire, not far from the river Tees. (Interesting to note that we helped give birth to the Reformation.) Wycliffe was also responsible for the first ever translation of the Bible into English.

I came across this little titbit when I was searching for links between Yorkshire and the Bible. Someone recently pointed out to me that Yorkshire folk speak in quite a biblical manner - thou hast, I tell thee, etc. Last of the Summer Wine is a good example - I tell thee Nora Batty! Anyhow, good to know that a local boy played such a big part in defeating the Antichrist. Long live Yorkshire.

The Two Pence Piece Value

The current scrap value of the copper in a British 2p coin (minted pre-1992) is now 3.7p. 

The scrap metal value of a 2p coin (pre-1992) is now 3.7p, 9.4% less than at this time last year.
And the value of the (cupro-nickel) 5p coin is now 2.3p, 17.8% less.

The Hypnerotomachia Poliphili

Finally finished reading the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. This was a very strange book. It was written in the 15th century, supposedly by a friar named Francesco Colonna. It concerns the tale of Poliphilo - a young lover desperately obsessed with a blond haired girl named Polia. The book is very dreamlike and Poliphilo’s adventure takes him to strange lands where he meets various nymphs and gods, and views strange exotic gardens and wondrous architecture.

The version I read was the modern translation by the writer Joscelyn Godwin. The reproduction is excellent and comes complete with the 174 woodcuts that have fascinated people for the last five hundred years. In fact, the Hypnerotomachia is probably more widely known for these beautiful woodcuts than it is for its text. It’s now more an object of wonder than a literary sensation really. Personally, I really enjoyed reading it, although the endless descriptions of architecture were a bit of a struggle at times. In summary, a really unique work - the illustrations alone making it well worth owning. Thoroughly recommended.

Below is a scanned in snapshot from the book (my apologises for the quality).

The Two Pence Piece Value

The current scrap value of the copper in a British 2p coin (minted pre-1992) is now 3.7p.

The scrap metal value of a 2p coin (pre-1992) is now 3.7p, 11.4% less than at this time last year.
And the value of the (cupro-nickel) 5p coin is now 2.4p, 15.2% less.

Sex and Swearing in Shakespeare

Over the years as I’ve been working my way through the works of William Shakespeare I’ve came across a lot of passages that are…well, let’s say, risque. Swearing, sauciness, filth, that sort of thing. Very much out of keeping with the Shakespeare we were forced to read and learn about at school. In fact, more akin to Carry On movies, or even the comedy of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore.

Anyway, in this post I thought I’d simply catalogue what I’ve came across so far.

Twelfth Night

Believe it or not, in the play Twelfth Night, Shakespeare actually makes a joking reference to the word cunt. (My apologies to anyone offended). In the play the character Malvolio speaks the line “these be her very c’s, her u’s, and her t’s, and thus she makes her great p’s” when speaking of a letter supposedly received from the Countess Olivia. The word 'and', between the ‘u’ and the ‘t,’ apparently representing the letter ‘n’ - spelling out the word, C, U, N…you get the picture.

Hamlet

Another reference to the C-word comes in Hamlet, of all places. In this play Hamlet speaks of “country matters” when trying to lay his head down in the lap of Ophelia. A clear pun on the word.

Henry V

Yet another pun on the word comes in Henry V when Katherine laughs at the word gown because of its similarity to the French word con. It would seems that Shakespeare was quite fond of the word. (Actually, I should point out that thus far I haven’t actually read this play, so I’m not entirely sure about this particular one. When I finally read it I’ll give an update.)

Cymbeline

This rather risque passage comes from the play Cymbeline. It concerns the character Cloten who is trying to woo the character Imogen by having music played outside her bed-chamber.

Cloten. I would this Musick would come: I am advised to give her Musick a Mornings, they say it will penetrate.
Enter Musicians.
Come on, Tune; if you can penetrate her with your Fingering, so; we’ll try with Tongue too; if none will do, let her remain: but I’ll never give o’er.

The Shakespeare Apocrypha

Now onto the Shakespeare Apocrypha - the plays once attributed to William Shakespeare, but now thought to be the work of other writers. A lot of this stuff will have already appeared in my other posts, but I’ll repeat it here as well.

The History of Sir John Oldcastle

This passage from Sir John Oldcastle concerns the servant Harpool, a Constable and a character named Doll, the mistress of a priest. The language is a little opaque but you can’t fail to get the general sense of it.

Harpool. Welcome, sweet Lass, welcome.
Doll. I thank you, good Sir, and Master Constable also.
Harpool. A plump Girl by the Mass, a plump Girl; ha, Doll, ha. Wilt thou forsake the Priest, and go with me, Doll?
Constable. Ah!, well said, Master Harpool, you are a merry old Man i'faith; you will never be old now by the Mack, a pretty Wench indeed.
Harpool. Ye old mad merry Constable, art thou advis'd of that? Ha, well said Doll, fill some Ale here.
Doll (aside). Oh, if I wist this old Priest would not stick to me, by Jove I would ingle this old Serving-man.
Harpool. O you old mad Colt, i'faith I'll ferk you: fill all the pots in the House there.
Constable. Oh! well said, Master Harpool, you are a Heart of Oak when all's done.
Harpool. Ha Doll, thou hast a sweet pair of Lips by the Mass.
Doll. Truly you are a most sweet old Man, as ever I saw; by my Troth, you have a Face able to make any Woman in Love with you.
Harpool. Fill, sweet Doll, I'll drink to thee.

The Tragedy of Locrine

This passage, from one of the comic scenes in the play Locrine, concerns a character named Oliver who tries (with his son William) to force the character Strumbo to marry his daughter. It would seem from the following dialogue that Strumbo already knew her quite well.

Oliver. [...]will you have my Daughter or no?
Strumbo. A very hard question, Neighbour, but I will solve it as I may; what reason have you to demand it of me?
William. Marry Sir, what reason had you when my Sister was in the barn to tumble her upon the Hay, and to fish her Belly?
Strumbo. Mass thou say'st true; well, but would you have me marry her therefore? No, I scorn her, and you, and you: Ay, I scorn you all.
Oliver. You will not have her then?

If I come across anymore of this sort of stuff over the coming months I’ll add it to the list.

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In The Merry Devil of Edmonton (another apocrypha play) we also find the word firke, which is said to be a variant of the word f*ck.

Sir Ralph. ...if I doe find knavery under cowle, Ile tickle him, Ile firke him..

More on that topic can be found here;

https://birkhallsmiscellany.blogspot.com/2014/10/shakespeare-apocrypha-merry-devil-of.html

Shakespeare Apocrypha: The Tragedy of Locrine

Just read ‘The Tragedy of Locrine,’ another play from the apocrypha body. Again, the general consensus is that this play wasn’t written by Shakespeare, although some commentators accept the possibility that it may have been ‘revised’ by him. The play is centred around the mythical Trojan founders of the English nation - king Brutus and his sons, Locrine, Camber and Albanact.

The main focus of the play is Locrine, who becomes king after his fathers death. Firstly Locrine has to fight off the invading Scythians, killers of his brother Albanact. Then, having fell in love with Estrild, wife of the defeated Scythian king, he has to face the wrath of his spurned wife, Guendoline, and her accompanying army. Defeated, both he and Estrild kill themselves in classic Shakespearean fashion.

To my untrained eye this play feels very much like a Shakespeare play and I see no reason to doubt that it is. However, Wikipedia describes the play’s verse as ‘stiff,’ ‘formal’ and ‘un-Shakespearean.’ Personally, it doesn’t seem anywhere near that bad to me. Although, of course, it clearly isn’t a classic.

And lo!, what’s this? Yet more Shakespearean filth. This scene, one of the comic scenes from the play, concerns a character called Oliver who, along with his son William, tries to force the character Strumbo to marry his daughter for having, let’s say, relations with her.

Oliver. [...]will you have my Daughter or no?
Strumbo. A very hard question, Neighbour, but I will solve it as I may; what reason have you to demand it of me?
William. Marry Sir, what reason had you when my Sister was in the barn to tumble her upon the Hay, and to fish her Belly?
Strumbo. Mass thou say'st true; well, but would you have me marry her therefore? No, I scorn her, and you, and you: Ay, I scorn you all.
Oliver. You will not have her then?

Would this in itself be enough to de-Shakespeare it? I wonder.

Actually, in an earlier post I wrote;

“It seems that anything earthy, set in contemporary England and full of social commentary is generally consigned to the non-Shakespeare pile.”

Perhaps I should add risque innuendo to that list as well.