This last hour and some that I used in reading your story were some of the best spent minutes of my day. You have the very rare ability, a gift actually, of effortlessly transporting this reader into a world an ocean away, a place where I could easily visualize Dartington, the Bear and Shipley.
I sincerely hope that you never lose this talent for storytelling as it’s becoming ever more rare in today’s flattened world.
I’ve read this generously shared cats-and-Dartington excerpt probably twice (?) before, but am never able to resist, even if other missives have been filed for later as the Inbox must-be-emptied so one can finally breathe easier.
Between one long-gone, but never forgotten vocal and determined cat of one’s youth -
who laid claim to this one, her room & bed, variously lap or hip, curled before stomach or nuffled into her back…within hours of arrival -
to a couple of summers spent a couple decades ago in modern and ancient dorm rooms & classes at Balliol College -
as a colonial bouncing from bedsit to bedsit for 3 years mostly in London & turning umpteen obscure corners while temping in the City, one was often momentarily spellbound, sensing only the thinnest of spaces vibrating between solid evidence of a centuries-ago then, and now -
this particular piece of writing resonates in me, bittersweet, in ways I clearly cannot efficiently articulate.
But it does.
Heartfelt and grounded in a sui generis magic of its own.
Wonderful piece, Tom. I had to read it in pieces cuz my brain is having difficulty staying focused (I’m old). When I read your pieces you sometimes turn a phrase in a way that is so quintessentially British…I’m a barbaric uncouth Yank so at one point in my head I was labeling these phrases as the British version of “Yoda-isms”…crass I know but for me it helps deepen my understanding since I am a barbaric uncouth Yank. I love the Narnia feel, when I was 13 I saved up all the pocket money I could get my hands on and one by one I bought hard copy versions of all seven of the Narnia books. This was in 1964 and I still have them…somewhat the worse for wear.
While I was reading, at one point I thought to myself “here in the states we just don’t have the magical places like in Great Britain.” However, as I’ve done more thinking about the piece and the places that I call “woo-woo”, I realize we do have multitudes of these places. I lived in Flagstaff, AZ for many years and the high desert/red rock country in the southwest is rife with woo-woo places. I have spent a lot of time in Appalachia (for me it was southwestern Virginia and western North Carolina) and that area is also full of woo-woo places. I have never been to Louisiana or New Orleans but I’ve read a lot about that area and it seems to also be inundated with woo-woo places. I could go on and on but will stop there.
So yes, the crass, barbaric US has lots and lots of woo-woo places. In my opinion ours are very different than those in Great Britain…more wild, reckless, and unpredictable and consider us lowly humans as inconviences to be disposed of when we intrude. Yours are wild and dangerous but seem to have more willingness to embrace human beings. Forgive my prattling…your piece inspired me to reflect.
Thank you for being my guide through the season you and your feline coterie thrived in the Magic House. I was charmed by the thought of your ghostly avatar occupying this space for eternity. I hope all of us have such a presence in the spots we loved.
Awk that's just lovely. I really got a little feel of the place. I regularly use Shipley's swear phrases, eat my furry fucktrousers being my favourite.
I absolutely love Ring the Hill- I’ve been wondering recently if it might be time for its first re-read, and having begun near the end this lovely, evocative repost, I may have to leave it a little longer. I’d forgotten how very poignant this last section is.
Weirdly, my cat Alfie (who only made it to 17) had the same sequence as The Bear of awful ear infection then ENT tumour quite close. He had some surgery and a bit of an Indian summer after that, having coped very well with it (though if we’d known about the malignancy we might not have put him through it). Alfie habitually conversed in laconic, hoarse quacks, which- if you replied satisfactorily- he would continue for impressive lengths of time. He also, when he got a bit arthritic, used to do a lot of sleeping in front of the Aga. Other animals, sometimes visitors, used to come and lie down beside him, but this never bothered him. Every couple of hours he would wake up, apparently feeling a bit stiff, and would stand up, shuffle through 90 or sometimes 180 degrees on the spot, carefully fall over again and resume sleeping in that changed orientation.
Wow. I loved wandering around Foxhole in 2014 when it was all dilapidated and empty. Lots of old gig posters up in the rooms and a general feeling of ghosts. There’s a bit in Villager which is essentially me imagining what parties might have been like there in the 60s.
Your description of the dark spot made me think of pilots of small aircraft, flying into a dense cloud and coming out upside down without even being aware they had inverted. Terrifying.
I loved every second of reading this. Sitting here leisurely sipping coffee, I felt transported to another time, another place, a magical time and place. I laughed, I cried, I wondered at all the beauty I’ve missed by not being present - present for the joy and wonder and the pain that is part of life, a part we too often try to resist. You have a way of touching my soul and I thank you.
Thank you for sharing such a long excerpt about the Magic House. It feels, indeed, like a magic place. How could you ever bring yourself to leave?? And yet, as you said, it is a place that will stay within you forever.
Oh,Tom...this piece is now a favorite of mine...beautiful,lush,funny,sad...full of stories about your cats,which I never get enough of.So sorry to hear about the deaths of Shipley and The Bear...the Shipley dialogue was great!You're so right;Dartington was such a magical,alchemic place for you and your cool kitties.My cats and I will be reading this piece again tonight before bedtime...loved it so much... and the sweet pictures of your kitties.Thank you again for sharing with us...
This last hour and some that I used in reading your story were some of the best spent minutes of my day. You have the very rare ability, a gift actually, of effortlessly transporting this reader into a world an ocean away, a place where I could easily visualize Dartington, the Bear and Shipley.
I sincerely hope that you never lose this talent for storytelling as it’s becoming ever more rare in today’s flattened world.
How lovely to hear. Thank you!
I’ve read this generously shared cats-and-Dartington excerpt probably twice (?) before, but am never able to resist, even if other missives have been filed for later as the Inbox must-be-emptied so one can finally breathe easier.
Between one long-gone, but never forgotten vocal and determined cat of one’s youth -
who laid claim to this one, her room & bed, variously lap or hip, curled before stomach or nuffled into her back…within hours of arrival -
to a couple of summers spent a couple decades ago in modern and ancient dorm rooms & classes at Balliol College -
as a colonial bouncing from bedsit to bedsit for 3 years mostly in London & turning umpteen obscure corners while temping in the City, one was often momentarily spellbound, sensing only the thinnest of spaces vibrating between solid evidence of a centuries-ago then, and now -
this particular piece of writing resonates in me, bittersweet, in ways I clearly cannot efficiently articulate.
But it does.
Heartfelt and grounded in a sui generis magic of its own.
Thank you so much!
Wonderful piece, Tom. I had to read it in pieces cuz my brain is having difficulty staying focused (I’m old). When I read your pieces you sometimes turn a phrase in a way that is so quintessentially British…I’m a barbaric uncouth Yank so at one point in my head I was labeling these phrases as the British version of “Yoda-isms”…crass I know but for me it helps deepen my understanding since I am a barbaric uncouth Yank. I love the Narnia feel, when I was 13 I saved up all the pocket money I could get my hands on and one by one I bought hard copy versions of all seven of the Narnia books. This was in 1964 and I still have them…somewhat the worse for wear.
While I was reading, at one point I thought to myself “here in the states we just don’t have the magical places like in Great Britain.” However, as I’ve done more thinking about the piece and the places that I call “woo-woo”, I realize we do have multitudes of these places. I lived in Flagstaff, AZ for many years and the high desert/red rock country in the southwest is rife with woo-woo places. I have spent a lot of time in Appalachia (for me it was southwestern Virginia and western North Carolina) and that area is also full of woo-woo places. I have never been to Louisiana or New Orleans but I’ve read a lot about that area and it seems to also be inundated with woo-woo places. I could go on and on but will stop there.
So yes, the crass, barbaric US has lots and lots of woo-woo places. In my opinion ours are very different than those in Great Britain…more wild, reckless, and unpredictable and consider us lowly humans as inconviences to be disposed of when we intrude. Yours are wild and dangerous but seem to have more willingness to embrace human beings. Forgive my prattling…your piece inspired me to reflect.
Thank you for being my guide through the season you and your feline coterie thrived in the Magic House. I was charmed by the thought of your ghostly avatar occupying this space for eternity. I hope all of us have such a presence in the spots we loved.
Awk that's just lovely. I really got a little feel of the place. I regularly use Shipley's swear phrases, eat my furry fucktrousers being my favourite.
I absolutely love Ring the Hill- I’ve been wondering recently if it might be time for its first re-read, and having begun near the end this lovely, evocative repost, I may have to leave it a little longer. I’d forgotten how very poignant this last section is.
Weirdly, my cat Alfie (who only made it to 17) had the same sequence as The Bear of awful ear infection then ENT tumour quite close. He had some surgery and a bit of an Indian summer after that, having coped very well with it (though if we’d known about the malignancy we might not have put him through it). Alfie habitually conversed in laconic, hoarse quacks, which- if you replied satisfactorily- he would continue for impressive lengths of time. He also, when he got a bit arthritic, used to do a lot of sleeping in front of the Aga. Other animals, sometimes visitors, used to come and lie down beside him, but this never bothered him. Every couple of hours he would wake up, apparently feeling a bit stiff, and would stand up, shuffle through 90 or sometimes 180 degrees on the spot, carefully fall over again and resume sleeping in that changed orientation.
‘having begun near the end *with* this…repost’ FFS, sorry
♥️
Your relationship with cats brought a tear to my eye. I love felines but have never had one as a pet. Thanks for this wonderful post. 🐈⬛
My daughter was a student there in 2003-5ish and lived in Foxhole for some of that time. The whole place was very “other” but very lovely too.
Wow. I loved wandering around Foxhole in 2014 when it was all dilapidated and empty. Lots of old gig posters up in the rooms and a general feeling of ghosts. There’s a bit in Villager which is essentially me imagining what parties might have been like there in the 60s.
So beautiful. I hope The Bear and Shipley are still watching over the place.
Your description of the dark spot made me think of pilots of small aircraft, flying into a dense cloud and coming out upside down without even being aware they had inverted. Terrifying.
That was pretty much the sensation!
I loved every second of reading this. Sitting here leisurely sipping coffee, I felt transported to another time, another place, a magical time and place. I laughed, I cried, I wondered at all the beauty I’ve missed by not being present - present for the joy and wonder and the pain that is part of life, a part we too often try to resist. You have a way of touching my soul and I thank you.
Thanks Sally!
Thank you for sharing such a long excerpt about the Magic House. It feels, indeed, like a magic place. How could you ever bring yourself to leave?? And yet, as you said, it is a place that will stay within you forever.
This is beautiful.
Thank you, Rachael.
This was wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you, Candy.
One of my favourite things I've read recently, I think I'll have a gander at the audiobook for my next read.
Cheers Juliette. It was fun to record (despite my cold)!
Oh,Tom...this piece is now a favorite of mine...beautiful,lush,funny,sad...full of stories about your cats,which I never get enough of.So sorry to hear about the deaths of Shipley and The Bear...the Shipley dialogue was great!You're so right;Dartington was such a magical,alchemic place for you and your cool kitties.My cats and I will be reading this piece again tonight before bedtime...loved it so much... and the sweet pictures of your kitties.Thank you again for sharing with us...