Thursday, 14 July 2011
Ways with Words: from the Dartington Hall gardens
It feels like the sky is falling down this week in London. I've still got a bronchial bug -- a chest infection as the lingering after-effects of vile flu virus -- and have finally admitted defeat, and retreated to bed (doctor's orders, with strict admonition about incipient pneumonia). But hacking cough is as nothing compared to phone hacking scandal, which seems to have reached a tipping point. The Murdochs summoned to Parliament, the Guardian at war with the Prime Minister on who is telling the truth about the warnings issued over Andy Coulson, and the whys and wherefores of Cameron's friendship with Rebekah Brooks ... I veer between rage and disbelief and consuming obsession about the details of this vastly significant narrative.
Aside from all of that -- if it can be put aside, which I doubt -- I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who came to see me at Ways with Words in Dartington (and apologies to those who queued for books, only to discover that Waterstones had sold out). The gardens at Dartington were as beautiful as ever; a serene, green oasis in what sometimes looks like an ugly world. Actually, the world still seems beautiful to me... more so, even, when it surrounds such hue and cry...