Stranger than fiction: the true story behind Kidnapped

A very interesting piece in the Guardian today about the true story that is, according to a new book, the inspiration behind Kidnapped and several other novels. I have often wondered where the inspiration for some of the works of great writers comes from and how they draw on elements of real life in their narratives. The true story is quite something, though the ending - like many true things - seemed to lack the justice we'd have liked to see for the protagonist. While he won his case in the courts it was post mortem and he didn't benefit.

On another note, the story also reminds me in some ways of Son of Fury, a 1942 film starring Tyrone Power and the quite wonderful Gene Tierney. The question is was the film influenced by one of the novels or directly by the true story?  It's interesting to see how entirely different stories (such as Kidnapped and Son of Fury) can both use recognisable elements from one real story.

"You were given the choice between war and dishonour. You chose dishonour and you will have war."
-Winston Churchill to Neville Chamberlain.

I've just finished watching Winston Churchill: The Wilderness Years, picked up in HMV last week for a rather bargainous ten of your English. It's a television series originally filmed in 1981 dramatising the events of Winston's decade long political exile in the 30s. What is striking about the show is how much Churchill, even starved of position, achieved during this time. Having studied history I knew about the period but having an excellent and well acted dramatisation really makes it sink in how vital what Churchill achieved in the pre-war years was. Without his constant and committed work to make people aware of the Nazi threat and the need for defences Britain would not have been able to go to war when we did; we were under-prepared in 1939 but left to his own devices Chamberlain would have had us so far down the path of disarmament and appeasement that it could have been irreversible.

I think what really summed up the events of the series is when Chamberlain is told towards the outbreak of war that he needs to bring back Winston Churchill and he refuses and says that Churchill has his own cabinet in exile. It's pretty accurate; Winston worked ceaselessly with all those who were like minded about the threat of Hitler and had a wide reaching network of sources and allies in the military, intelligence and political worlds that kept him in the know. There were even things that did not make the film itself; such as his work with Claude Dansey's Z organisation which gathered intelligence for Churchill from all over Europe in the 30s. Churchill knew war was coming and he was certain that, even if he had to do it single-handedly, Britain would not be left at the mercy of Hitler.

Robert Hardy, he of Seigfried Farnon in All Creatures Great and Small, played Churchill excellently. It is rare that an actor can play a well known character so well that you forget you're watching an actor but Hardy does it here. His diction and accent are superb and he takes on the character in it's completeness. The whole cast was brilliant but particular mention should also go to Siân Phillips whose Clementine worked as a convincing and believable foil to Hardy's Churchill. 

For the duration of this series - compromising eight fifty minute episodes - you see the political giants of another age and the hard work of the widely acclaimed greatest Briton. What makes this show so watchable is that the story of what happened is both powerful and real. It's worth it just for the sheer, stirring, stubborn nature of Churchill who refuses to relent but stands by what he believes destiny has called him to do.

"Who’s your favorite author that other people are NOT reading? The one you want to evangelize for, the one you would run popularity campaigns for? The author that, so far as you’re concerned, everyone should be reading–but that nobody seems to have heard of. You know, not JK Rowling, not Jane Austen, not Hemingway–everybody’s heard of them. The author that you think should be that famous and can’t understand why they’re not…"

Booking Through Thursday 

Good question. I tend to be a little contrary; if everyone is reading someone it's usually a good reason not to bother with the exception of classics which not everyone is reading and even if they were they've mainly stood the test of time for a reason. I think that of modern authors who are less well known I really have enjoyed what I've read of Arturo Perez-Reverte and Boris Akunin who seem to tell tales with a bit of swagger and verve. When reading Turkish Gambit by Akunin I was convinced I knew who was the traitor. Only there was a myriad of plot twists that you genuinely could not see coming and kept you guessing again and again and of course I turned out to be very wrong.  He wrote a book that seemed so convincingly predictable and then defied every prediction with it's twists. It's good story-telling, the writing is enjoyable - it's intelligent but not too clever or too self-concious and it flows very well.

I don't suppose that either of those two count as unknown but I don't think they're hugely popular either; they're in the nice area of the market where people sell a good volume but don't get silly amounts of publicity and hype that detracts from the work itself. I guess I'm very middle of the road with books, I rarely read anything by a real unknown - how would I find out about them? - but won't touch Dan Brown or James Pattison either. (I will confess to the odd Jack Higgins as a guilty pleasure though!)

BBC News | Pupils forced to listen to Mozart

I should have known from the headline that I'd object to this story and, if that wasn't enough, the photo of the headteacher should have given it away too. He looks like the type. An ideas man. Thinks he can reinvent the wheel and change the world of education while gaining the adulation of his peers. I'll bet he starts the day with a  soy latte and a brief dive into some Steven R. Covey before turning his attention to the task at hand; revolutionising something that worked far better before everyone started to revolutionise it. It was probably on one such day that he had his eureka moment and, like Archimedes leaping from his tub, danced a little at the force of his own genius: "I know how to enforce discipline; if they cross the line we'll play Mozart at them, that'll learn them." See, I told you, revolutionary. I bet Stalin wishes he'd have thought of that. There would have been no gulags, just large open air concert arenas where political prisoners were exposed to Mozart day and night.

The only problem is, well, it's not really punishment, is it? I mean, I'm sure some of the obstreperous little tykes will find it punishing but that's a reflection on them not Wolfgang. I can't help but think that Mr. Walker hasn't quite thought this through. He's effectively taken a whole aspect of culture and loaded it with a hugely negative connotation. He is sending the message to all of those young people that listening to classical music is a punishment, that if they do wrong they will be trapped in a room together and forced to listen to it. I doubt my fifteen year old self would have wanted to listen to it either but that doesn't mean it's a good idea to teach the next generation that it's a punishment.

Now Mr. Walker, naturally, says it's not even meant to be a punishment - this detention is a window of opportunity to "help them see they are part of something bigger that will enhance their life chances if they become a net contributor".  He goes on to tell us that "when it's finished, there's no anger or resentment, because it's not a punishment, but pointing out the consequences of their behaviour". I want to look at this from a starkly logical angle. He claims that it is an opportunity and a good thing, he also claims that it is the consequence of their bad behaviour, ergo is he not sending out the message that if you are bad then good things will happen to you? I'm getting a mixed message here it's like he's saying it's great and awesome and then still using it as a punishment and then denying it's even a punishment. For goodness sake, we wonder why the education system is a mess? It's all wishy-woshy rubbish. Be a man, Walker, if it's a punishment call it a punishment and if it's a good thing then why do you feel you should reward bad behaviour? Is there a sliding scale? If you're a little naughty you get Bach, if you're pretty bad you get Verdi but don't really hack the fellow off or he'll go Wolfgang-Amadeus on your hieny?

Yes, it may be effective in the short term - though I must say that if the young rebels of today are so tame that the prospect of having to hear a bit of Bach stops them from raising carnage at school then they're not worth a jot as rebels - but in the long term it's another example of society taking something that was once valued and making it into a negative thing. Classical music isn't for everyone, that's cool, why would it be? Nor is pop, rock, hip-hop or anything else. I have about as much desire to watch thirty-three and a half pence (dashed exchange rate!) rap about his lady friends' posteriors as I do to watch paint dry but I'm assured that some of the youngsters find it a regular wheeze. Music is broad enough for there to be something for everyone but what can't be argued is that, like them or not, the classical composers were geniuses. They were unbelievable. Beethoven went deaf but it's fair to say that on musical merit Ode' to Joy knocks the socks off Lady blooming GaGa. To reduce Classical music to being used as a cheap punishment is stupid, our schools should be teaching about the merit of such things not making it into a negative bogeyman to stop thirteen year-olds blowing raspberries behind the teachers back.

"Troy, by our standards, is a tiny village near the Dardanelles. What made its siege the most immortal drama in our culture was the length of time it took. If Achilles and Hector had been made to fight only for a few minutes, nobody would have bothered to remember: in other words, if it had been a Twenty20 game or a one-day international." - Scyld Berry

The Cricket has been fantastic at the moment; there is something about test match cricket that can't be matched. Five days of competition where any one moment can change a whole game; you can be on top for four days and lose it on the fifth, you can have a seemingly guaranteed win snatched from you by one stubborn batsmen or one gifted bowler. I wanted to write another blog here about why I love this sport, why I think it's better than any other sport in the world because it can give days on end of tension and excitement, how any one man can change the whole match and yet it still takes a team to win. It's gladiatorial and also communal. (Twenty20 and ODI cricket are not the same in the slightest, they're like Cricket for people with a three second attention span.) But I'm not going to write it, partly because I've spoke garrulously of my love for the game before and partly because Scyld Berry has done a marvellous job of explaining it here at the Daily Telegraph. I particularly love the Troy analogy; it hits the nail on the head in a way few people could.

Scyld Berry: England and South Africa show how to sell the long game

“Civilization is a conspiracy,” said John Buchan. “Modern life is the silent compact of comfortable folk to keep up pretences.” This statement could be applied to many of his novels in which characters who are ordinary and human are drawn from their pretences into all kinds of adventure. He gave us characters like Richard Hannay, the Scots mining engineer, and Edward Leithen, the barrister and MP. Less well known, however, is Dickson McCunn, the protagonist from his 1922 novel Huntingtower. Dickson is everything you least expect of a hero in an adventure story: he is fifty-five years old and a recently retired grocer. He is the logical antithesis of the James Bond type of hero and, while successful, is drawn very much from the ranks of the common man. He is dependable, not flashy.

Huntingtower is a rip-roaring adventure story that reads with all the fun and enjoyment that, as a child, could be derived from Enid Blyton. (Actually I saw a lady reading the famous five a little while back in the park - it seems the enjoyment does not diminish with age!) It tells of Dickson McCunn going for a walking holiday and soon finding himself up to his ears in adventure; the story is centred around a Russian Princess who, having escaped the revolution, is being held against her will in the house of the title. As with stories such as The thirty-nine steps their is a back drop of historical relevancy and it very much reflects attitudes and thoughts of the time. What makes Huntingtower different is the light hearted and amusing touches throughout. Helping with this are a group of street urchins from Glasgow called the Gorbals Die-Hards who are camping near-by and turn out to have a spirit at once adventurous and militant. Their exploits are constantly referenced, by the narrator, in comparison to those of great figures from history and the show resourcefulness and hardy courage whenever called upon; while Dickson is the central figure and the narrator is telling his story the Gorbals Die-Hards could arguably be said to steal the show.

I really enjoyed this book and think that it shows Buchan on top-form throughout. It's not about deep emotional insights, it's just a good fun read. There were some characters who speak mainly in the Scots' dialect but it's usually understandable (just!) and where it isn't there is a glossary of terms at the back. The story combines light hearted romanticism and adventure with some allusions to the failings and evils of the new social order emerging in Russia at the time. What I find most endearing about Buchan's work is the way he can write so well - his descriptions of places are particularly excellent - but keep it entertaining and enjoyable throughout and, for me, this is up there with the best of his books.

The Turner Classic Movies introductions are really great; I've seen several good ones and really like this one that Jack posted on his tumblr.

There seems to be a bit of an online fuss brewing about the proposals from K-Rudd's government (If only we had a prime minister whose name could be given a ghetto makeover. If only we had a prime minister who was anyone but Gordon Brown.) to add a national level filter to stop users accessing websites with criminal content. As with any change to the law that effects the internet people will jump up and down and get all over excited with themselves and shout about freedom of speech and civil liberties and what not. To them I simply say; when did the freedom to break the law become a civil right?

I agree that anything that amounts to censorship should be carefully considered and implemented. I hate the way modern society tries to stop people saying things that may offend because it's frankly absurd to think that people have some right not to be offended. I am fed up with all of these gagging orders the High Court keeps putting on the press - the Trafigura scandal in particular was absurd as the firm were effectively trying to ban people from hearing what their own elected representative was asking in Parliament. (It was regarding Trafigura's dumping of Toxic waste that killed thousands in the Ivory Coast) My indignation at silly government ideas like Mr. Mandelson's disconnecting people scheme knows no bounds and I proudly blacked out my twitter pic to support the New Zealanders as they campaigned against an unfair law.

The thing is, however, if people keep screaming about freedom and claiming an inalienable right to do pretty much whatever even when it's illegal then they'll ruin the very thing they say they like. The internet, while great, also contains ridiculous amounts of very bad stuff. Nobody has a right to view things so vulgar that they're against the law, to view things that involve abuse, etc. Nobody has the right to harm a child and nobody has the right to look at such things. The law is targeted at Refused Certificate content; to you and I that means content so explicit that it is unclassifiable by their board of censors.

Now I agree that any list of banned sites must be very carefully analysed - and borderline stuff should be checked by a human. But the idea of creating a net free from child-harm and other illegal websites is surely one that we as a society should embrace. It's not so much censorship as the acceptance that boundaries are necessary for the good of the collective whole.

I hope that the technology is efficient and that the system is made to work very well, it's time the internet had something like this. I'd eventually like to see an internationally based system - I think the internet needs some level of control, but the essential thing is that it should be designed well so there are safeguards against abuse and actively staffed to see that any manipulation can be reversed. I'm not naive and I know that as an open technology we can't eliminate things from the web but, in the case of RC-Content, I don't think that means we shouldn't try.

PS) These views represent what I think, this being a personal blog; please don't read them to represent the views of my employers or anyone else.

I disagree with the size of banker bonusses when they have just messed up and had to be bailed out but just because money is undeserved does not give the state the right to steal it from them. Their businesses have decided to award them a bonus why has the state got any right to take it?

I do think it's ill-gotten this year for the bankers, I resent that I pay charges so they can get such bonusses but it's a free market system. By doing this the chancellor has ensured that one of two things will happen:

• The best bankers will leave for places where their work is rewarded better - why stay in this environment when you can earn twice as much elsewhere?
• The banks will pay bonusses twice as large in an effort to keep their staff.

Niether of these two options is good for the economy. It's all well and good to say that the rich should pay and that the state can take what they want but what people forget is that when the state starts aggressively targeting the rich it's forcing the very people who create the wealth in the first place to consider leaving. Without London as a major financial centre our economy would be much weaker.

PS) These views represent what I think, this being a personal blog; please don't read them to represent the views of my employers or anyone else.

As you approach the town hall in my home town, an insignificant blot on the coast around about the latitude fifty-five degrees north, you can't help but notice that it's architecturally impressive for something of so little importance.  Britannia stares down at you, nymphs reclining at her feet, from above the door. The door itself is flanked by pillars and stone reliefs depicting classical scenes. There is a prominent clock tower and, naturally, a nautically themed wind vane. The town hall, you see, was built at a time when society was proud of civilisation. It was proud of all that it had achieved and all it hoped to achieve; proud of the forward march of democracy and justice and the rule of law. The spirit of the time was to celebrate the progress that had been made and look forward to a century of more and therefore any municipal building was worth the effort of making impressive.

I'm presently reading The Siege of Krishnapur by J.G Farrel and it's notable the way the characters are so proud of progress; even surrounded by hundreds of revolting sepoys baying for their blood they remain attached to the idea that they stand for the betterment and advancement of society. The Victorians were a flawed society by modern standards but they were moving forward, they were improving. They were ingrained with racism and prejudice and yet at the same time paradoxically committed to improving civilisation; while their actions may have been at times misguided and foolish they aimed high.

This is why Winston S. Churchill was a warrior, not due to lust for blood but due to the idea that in civilisation we had something that should be defended to the last drop of crimson. Sadly this pride in civilisation seems to have been surrendered; it is now seen as a burden from which we should be unshackled. What need have we, the pinnacle of humanity, for such things as fairness and progress? The aspirations that marked that age gone by are now frowned upon as society scrambles to find the bottom of the barrel, finding instead that they just keep getting lower and having to scramble some more.

Atop the town hall, this monument to the progress of another age, are nine flagstaffs. Once upon a time they flew the Union but that time seems to have long passed; while a local regiment was in Afghanistan their regimental flag hung proudly from the staff. Today, however, I passed the building and saw, flanking Britannia in two rows of three, flags proudly saying "Vote for Joe". Yes, a building built to hold a mirror to the triumph of progress and civilisation is now reduced to the level of advertising hoarding for a popular television program. I can't help but think that perhaps, somewhere, society has left the tracks a little. (And when I say left the tracks a little I mean burst off the rails, ploughed through a hedge and hit the wall in a blazing wreck.) Is the X-Factor the pinnacle of our society? Is reallity television the crowning achievment of our age? Joe sings well and seems like a nice chap and what not, I wish him well, but perhaps doing more to honour a contestant in a tv talent show than they do to honour our nation, our freedom or our fallen is just a little crazy?

Anyway, we all know Lucie Jones was the one with the gift.