Tag Archives: Hamlet

I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be

I encountered T.S. Eliot when I was about 17;  Shakespeare I’d known a little longer.   Lines like these – allusions which I could actually catch (and Eliot was hugely allusive, especially in his earlier work) – played a part in the thrill of recognition I felt on first reading him.  I still, vividly,  remember starting to read the Four Quartets for the first time – at home, in the ‘front room’ as we called it (a whole socio-economic digression possible in that term.  I will resist). Continue reading

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We are such stuff as dreams are made on

I don’t believe in ghosts.  But once someone has died, I think they continue with us.  They continue in our memories and through their children (if lucky enough to have them): a tilt of the head or a look suddenly … Continue reading

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Quick now, here, now, always.

Moving to London meant leaving my job – obviously – and I am searching for work.  Writing applications is laborious (oh, the irony that hunting for work is itself hard work) and disquieting.  I cannot know how long this process … Continue reading

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