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The Mainichi
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Mainichi
Edging Toward Japan: Samuel Pepys and Sei Shonagon - the ultimate love match
A few weeks ago, I attended a rather unusual concert in Cambridge, England. All the pieces of music dated from the time of the famous English diarist Samuel Pepys (1633-1703). My knowledge of the pop songs of the 1660s is not what it should be and I didn't have a particular strong conception of what music from this period actually sounds like. We are talking here about going back to a time before virtually all the famous classical composers -- before Beethoven, before Mozart, even before Bach. As it turns out however, the music of the 17th century gets on perfectly well without all of them and is teeming with beautiful pieces and charming songs played to the accompaniment of the strangest of instruments. We started off with some songs played on the spinet, a kind of early harpsichord, and then the musicians produced an extraordinary instrument called a "theorbo," which is an extravagantly oversized lute. Pepys himself loved music and probably owned the very spinet on which the songs were performed, and ordered the making of a "theorbo" which he proudly declared in his diary to be as good as any in the country. When not writing his diary or helping to run the British admiralty (his day job), he even composed songs himself. Of late, I've found myself getting more and more interested in Pepys and his world. Years ago, I listened to actor and director Kenneth Branagh reading extracts from the voluminous diary (which covers the years 1660-69) and recently I've been reading Claire Tomalin's prize-winning biography of Pepys, "The Unequalled Self". What is fascinating about Pepys is partly the turbulence of the time he lived -- the nine years of the diary cover the chaos and anxiety in England following the death of Oliver Cromwell, the initially jubilant restoration of Charles II, the Great Plague of 1665 and the Great Fire of London in 1666, and the war against the Dutch amongst many other happenings. But amidst all these mammoth events, there is the even greater fascination of being immersed in the domestic minutiae of Pepys' daily life, sharing with him his passions and disappointments, his surreptitious affairs and ambitions, his bowel movements and flatulations, his moments of anger, grief and joy. Tomalin recounts that Pepys was an astoundingly good diarist because for him every day of life was an adventure in human consciousness, filled with the sheer thrill of being alive, of being able to sense and enjoy everything the world had to offer -- its food, its music, its voluptuous women, its poetry, its conversation and company, its seasons and heats and frosts, and, not least, his cherished books. All these things were part of his all-consuming embrace of life that makes him a thrilling literary companion. These days, if I feel like disappearing for a while into an alternate universe, then I might turn to Pepys and transport myself back into the 1660s. Yet Pepys is not the only explorer of consciousness that I have turned to of late. On recent trips to Japan I wanted to introduce my two daughters to a writer who might capture their interest and so began listening with them to a reading (in English) of "The Pillow Book" by Sei Shonagon. As we had our breakfasts every morning in Japan, we would be transported to Sei Shonagon's world of the Imperial Court in Kyoto around the year 1,000 where Shonagon was a courtier. We would enjoy her sometimes caustic and always beautiful observations on the men and women around her, the changing colours of the mountains, the preferred etiquette of her lovers, the seasonal colours of the mountains, the sound of the flute in the night air... I must admit that I am a fairly recent covert to Sei Shonagon. In my younger days, I had a far greater appreciation of Shonagon's contemporary and rival, Murasaki Shikibu, the author of the monumental "The Tale of Genji". Shonagon seemed to me much the inferior of the two. But rediscovering "The Pillow Book" with my daughters, I now see that Shonagon is a much more fascinating, individualistic personality than I first appreciated. She is never less than her own woman and, like Pepys, is an admirably honest and perceptive contemplator of the sights, sounds and flavours of her own existence. Unlike Pepys, she was not keeping a day-to-day journal, but rather a compendium of observations on diverse subjects that cumulatively add up to an almost cubist portrait of a world now vastly lost in time. Sitting in an autumnal chapel in Cambridge, England, listening to the music of the 1660s, I found myself strangely thinking about Sei Shonagon and about how fundamentally similar she and Samuel Pepys were. In their professional lives, they were robust and worldly, but in their private lives they were seekers of (sometimes illicit) joy and things of beauty, candid in their assessments of themselves and others. I was thinking that this strange linkage of Samuel Pepys and Sei Shonagon was a whimsical idea all my own, when my daughter surprised me at breakfast the next morning by suddenly saying, "Last night I dreamt of Sei Shonagon and Samuel Pepys..." When I responded that I had been thinking about them too and that they would have made a great couple, my 14-year-old daughter recoiled in distaste at the idea. "Ugh!" And yet I'm still thinking it could have been a match made in heaven, or in hell, to put two such quick-witted, intelligent and highly opinionated minds together. We live in a world in which, to a tiresome degree, people are compartmentalised according to their nation, their race, their gender, their sexuality. Yet sometimes, people from vastly different cultures at completely different historical periods can appear profoundly similar in their thrilling engagement with the sheer mystery of being alive. We make a mistake, I suspect, when we keep Sei Shonagon cloistered in a room called "Heian Court Literature", alongside (to her probably insufferable) companions like Murasaki Shikibu. Pepys himself, I suspect, would have found boundless joy in the colours and beauty of the Heian court, stealing through the nighttime garden of a Heian lady, intent on begging entrance for a moonlit tryst. While Sei Shonagon longs, I think, to burst into a wider world, to explore Pepys' library of Western books, to smoke a pipe and drink some wine, and sing songs of love while Samuel flirtatiously accompanies her on the theorbo. @DamianFlanagan (This is Part 59 of a series) In this column, Damian Flanagan, a researcher in Japanese literature, ponders about Japanese culture as he travels back and forth between Japan and Britain. Profile: Damian Flanagan is an author and critic born in Britain in 1969. He studied in Tokyo and Kyoto between 1989 and 1990 while a student at Cambridge University. He was engaged in research activities at Kobe University from 1993 through 1999. After taking the master's and doctoral courses in Japanese literature, he earned a Ph.D. in 2000. He is now based in both Nishinomiya, Hyogo Prefecture, and Manchester. He is the author of "Natsume Soseki: Superstar of World Literature" (Sekai Bungaku no superstar Natsume Soseki).
Yahoo
03-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The bombed London church that was reborn in the USA
As Londoners celebrated VE Day nearly 80 years ago much of the city in which they lived lay in ruins, not least the historic places of worship built by Sir Christopher Wren in the late 1600s in the aftermath of the Great Fire of London. While some would be repaired or rebuilt, others remained as shells, transformed into small public parks surrounded by a single wall or tower. However, one had a very different ending, being moved brick by charred brick more than 4,000 miles away and rebuilt at a college in the US Midwest. Why did St Mary Aldermanbury end up across the pond and what is it used for now? While St Mary Aldermanbury may have been destroyed in the Blitz, it wasn't the first time disaster had struck. Having been founded around the start of the 12th Century, the original medieval church was destroyed in the Great Fire in 1666, then became one of the 52 sites, including St Paul's Cathedral, rebuilt by Wren. On 29 December 1940, St Mary Aldermanbury and seven other City churches were badly damaged during a particularly devastating night of the Blitz as waves of Luftwaffe planes dropped bombs over London in what some coined as "the Second Great Fire". With limited finances available in post-war Britain to do anything with it, the church remained a charred husk for two decades - until an unusual proposal arrived from Missouri. "It really dates back to the end of the war on VE Day, when Sir Winston Churchill gave his famous speech on the balcony saying 'this is your victory' to the British people," explains Timothy Riley, director and chief curator of America's National Churchill Museum. "It was a triumphant moment for all at the end of the war. But not long after there was a general election and Churchill's party lost." In the wake of that defeat, Britain's wartime leader received a letter from Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri, inviting him to give a speech, which included a message from US President Harry Truman saying: "This is a wonderful school in my home state. If you come, I'll introduce you." "I'm convinced that letter would normally have been given to a secretary by Churchill with the instruction to politely decline or refuse," Mr Riley says. "However, when he saw this handwritten note... having just lost an election and knowing that he had more to say, he anxiously/eagerly accepted the invitation and made his way to Fulton to give the Iron Curtain speech." The famous address, delivered on 5 March 1946, spelt out the deepening tensions between the West and the Soviet Union, and called for a special relationship to be forged between the US and UK. Fifteen years on from the speech, and with Churchill now in his 80s, thoughts turned to how the college could commemorate it. "Someone suggested a garden, someone suggested a statue, a plaque, and then the president of the college Robert Davidson said: 'Why don't we bring a ruined Christopher Wren church that was bombed in the Blitz, left abandoned for nearly 20 years in the City of London and rebuild it in Fulton?'," says Mr Riley. "The reaction, of course, was bafflement; how could we do such a thing? But that's what happened in the 1960s." After the initial suggestion was made in spring 1961, efforts began in earnest to gain permission to relocate the building and raise the $1.5m (the equivalent of more than $16m or £12m today) needed to do so. Backing was gained from several influential sources. President John F Kennedy became the project's honorary chairman until he was assassinated in 1963, with his successor Lyndon B Johnson then taking on the role. Previous presidents Truman and Dwight Eisenhower also publicly supported the cause. Back in the UK, Churchill endorsed the scheme, writing in a letter that it was an "imaginative concept", and following extensive discussions both the City of London and Diocese of London approved the move. In 1965 what remained of the church was dismantled piece by piece, with each of the 7,000 stones cleaned and then numbered so they could be placed in the same formation in their new home. Weighing more than 600 tonnes in total, they were taken by ship to Virginia, before being transported by rail to Missouri where the tricky task of rebuilding a wrecked 300-year-old building began. The Times branded it "one of the most intricate jigsaw puzzles in the history of architecture" and the project's mason, Eris Lytle, later described how he had to learn skills once used by Renaissance craftsmen to complete the project. With the monument completed in 1969, a service was held on 7 May to rededicate the church, attended by dignitaries from both sides of the Atlantic - although not Churchill who had died in 1965. Today, St Mary Aldermanbury isn't an active church but forms part of America's National Churchill Museum, based on the Westminster College campus. Yet as Mr Riley points out, it does maintain at least one link to its previous life. The bridge that crossed an ocean "It's a popular destination wedding venue - and also where you don't have to have a passport to get married in a 'British' church." He says the building is "perhaps the top tourist attraction in the middle of Missouri", and while those living in the area generally know about its history, "we still have a lot of people saying: 'I had no idea, it's extraordinary.'" As for the church's original site, beside the Guildhall, today it is a small park tucked among towers and modern office blocks of the City of London. Benches, trees and plant life surround a few remaining stones, while a large granite slab marks where the altar once stood. The site was refurbished last year with some of the funding coming from the museum, which also recently completed restoration work at St Mary Aldermanbury. "We've invested nearly $6m (£4.5m) into the preservation of the church so that we continue to be good stewards, so that it'll thrive and inspire and inform generations to come," says Mr Riley. Reflecting on the relocation of a bombed church to another continent, he believes it has become much more than a memorial to Churchill's Iron Curtain speech. "It is, I think, an extraordinary symbol of the Anglo-American relationship... and a constant reminder of the bond that our two countries continue to share in our own histories." Listen to the best of BBC Radio London on Sounds and follow BBC London on Facebook, X and Instagram. Send your story ideas to Churchill's favourite spy: Aristocrat who risked her life in WW2 Family visit fire boat named after Blitz heroine 'Mum was embarrassed about her WW2 bravery medal' America's National Churchill Museum St Mary Aldermanbury Garden
Al Bawaba
24-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Al Bawaba
$6M auction for first editions of Shakespeare's plays
ALBAWABA – A rare set of first editions of some of Shakespeare's plays is expected to be sold at auction for approximately $6 million. The auction will be held in London next month by Sotheby's, one of the world's largest brokers of fine and decorative art, jewelry, and collectibles. The company operates in 80 locations across 40 countries. Shakespeare's plays for $6 million If you are a fan of Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, or King Lear, do not miss the upcoming auction in London next month. A rare set of first editions of William Shakespeare's collected works—including these iconic plays—will be up for sale. The collection, featuring the first four editions, is expected to fetch around $6 million. The auction was announced by Sotheby's on April 23rd—Shakespeare's birthday. It is scheduled to take place on May 23rd and marks the first major auction of Shakespeare's works since 1989. The collection, featuring the first four editions, is expected to fetch around $6 million. (AFP) Notably, after Shakespeare's death, some of his friends compiled all his plays into one publication titled Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories & Tragedies. The first edition was printed in 1623, followed by a second in 1632, a third in 1663, and a fourth in 1685. The upcoming auction will feature all four editions. Experts note that while the first edition is the most valuable, the third is the rarest as many copies were destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666.
The Independent
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
350-year-old Shakespeare folios could fetch £4.5 million at auction
Four original William Shakespeare folios, dating from 1623 to 1685, are set to be auctioned at Sotheby's London on May 23. The collection, expected to fetch between £3.5 and £4.5 million, is believed to have been owned by two of Shakespeare's close friends. The first folio is considered a cornerstone of English literature, preserving plays like Macbeth and Twelfth Night that might otherwise have been lost. The third folio is the rarest due to losses in the Great Fire of London. The folios were compiled by John Heminges and Henry Condell, fellow actors and shareholders in Shakespeare's acting company, the King's Men.
The Guardian
13-04-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Go to town! The surprise feelgood effects of walking in the city
When I arrange to meet Annabel Streets, the appropriately named author of a new book, The Walking Cure, I'm presented with a challenge. She wants me to choose a London location I am unfamiliar with, so I can experience her ideas about the upsides of urban landscapes. In the book, Streets contemplates the powerful impact walking can have on our mood, thoughts and emotions, and how this can differ according to where and how we walk. While most people are aware of the benefits of walking in nature, Streets makes the case for urban environments, known as 'brown spaces' by developers. Surprisingly, churches, convents and cemeteries, all of which are found in cities, often offer a superabundance of wildlife. A study in one Berlin cemetery found 604 species, 10 of which were rare or endangered. Streets believes it is in cities that our collective ingenuity is most obvious. I haven't exactly been basking in astonishment lately, unless you count feeling astonishingly grumpy. The trouble is, I have lived and worked in central London for decades and so I struggle to come up with anywhere new. Streets suggests we start at St Mary Aldermary, a City of London church I am unfamiliar with, near Mansion House tube station. The Christopher Wren edifice, rebuilt in 1682 following the Great Fire of London in 1666, looks unremarkable as I approach along a narrow street, fighting through hordes of City workers on their lunch breaks. When I step across the threshold, I am astonished. Not only is it an architectural gem, it is also a cafe and community hang-out. People sit in the pews, typing away on laptops or contemplating the glorious stained glass. 'Isn't it amazing?' says Streets. She looks pleased when I say I used to work a 10-minute walk away and never noticed the church. In fact, she has chosen it for a reason. Researchers have identified a wellbeing boost known as 'the cathedral effect' which occurs when we have a lot of space above our heads. 'That could be an expanse of sky, when you're in a remote location or at the top of a hill,' says Streets. 'But it could also be a cathedral or high-ceilinged church like this one. Researchers found that people had more empathy and compassion, and think more creatively, in such environments.' As we chat, I feel my shoulders drop and my mood lift. Streets' last book was called 52 Ways to Walk. It came about almost by accident when she was working on another project, Windswept, in which she explored the effect of landscape on creative women including Georgia O'Keeffe and Gwen John. In the process, she unearthed a trove of scientific research devoted to the benefits of walking. What is it about walking that is so good for us? 'Human beings were designed to walk and not just a stroll on a sunny day in a beautiful landscape,' she says. 'When we walk, we produce biochemicals which are so powerfully life-affirming that scientists have described them as 'hope molecules''. You can gain the same effects from any other kind of brisk movement, but the great benefit of walking is you can do it pretty much anywhere and it doesn't usually end in injury (I write as someone who has only recently completed running-related ankle rehab). When Streets was growing up in rural Wales, neither of her parents drove, so walking miles was a necessity. Small wonder then that she now encourages people to consider walking in less than ideal conditions: in the cold, the rain, mud and – unthinkably – while hungry. As a teenager, she rebelled and bought a Fiat which she drove everywhere, even to the gym. Walking was abandoned until her first year at university in Norwich. 'I nursed my grandfather through cancer. I had barely settled into university and everyone else was out partying. After he died, it was really hard. And suddenly I found myself yearning for mountains. I had hardly been up a hill in my life. I took a year out and went walking in the Himalayas, the biggest mountains I could think of.' After three months she came home, ready to return to her old life. 'But why was I so desperate for mountains and why did they do me so much good? Some people say you yearn for the landscape you grew up in during times of trouble, but I grew up beside the sea. Then, when I was researching the book, I discovered that when we are at high altitudes, we produce a hormone called erythropoietin . That hormone is now being investigated as an antidepressant. So I look back at that period and wonder: did my body know what it needed?' Does Streets have any theories about why walking outdoors should have a particular impact on our mental state? 'Evolutionary biologists think it was once a survival mechanism – when we ran from danger, our brain had to be as efficient as our body. We needed to recognise our location, recall places of refuge, rapidly determine whether to climb a tree, change direction, pick up a rock, slow down or speed up. Escape has always required as much brain as brawn, as much intellect as speed.' As part of social prescribing, some NHS Trusts now prescribe walking in nature as a way to help people improve their mental and physical health. But Streets is keen to raise awareness about the virtues of built-up environments. 'I love the opportunities for surprise,' she says, leading me out of the church, down winding backstreets. We walk past a bronze statue of The Cordwainer by Alma Boyes, its panel explaining the ward's medieval roots as a centre for shoe-making. Further along, we see the dome of St Paul's Cathedral looming up ahead. 'Urban spaces are often much more stimulating and energising than more remote landscapes,' says Streets. 'Unless marred by too much noise, pollution and traffic, cities can perk us up, pique our curiosity and trigger our imagination. Yes, you can walk in a park or through mountains and feel wonderfully calm, but there are few signs of human endeavour. Cities relax us as much, if not more, because humans are fascinated by each other and the things we have created. They encourage us to get out of our own heads and distract us from our own ruminating minds.' We duck down a side street and peer through the window of Khops in Bow Lane. Founded in 1845, it claims to be London's oldest barber. The patrons look back at us, bemused, so we beat a retreat, pausing to examine an intriguing sign outside a defunct bar. 'The Four Sisters,' reads Streets. 'I wonder who they were? That's the thing about city walks – they are full of mysteries and adventures.' She leads me down into the 11th-century crypt of another Wren church, St Mary-le-Bow. We linger, reading ancient inscriptions about the long deceased. It's unnerving to contemplate these long-ago lives while the city thrums above our heads. 'Now open that door,' urges Streets. I push hard and stumble into a brightly lit room, narrowly avoiding a collision with a waiter bearing a tray of lunch. We are in the bustling Cafe Below and Streets looks gleeful. 'You weren't expecting that, were you?' she says, laughing. I begin to see what she means about the energising benefits of surprise. I experience a childlike thrill, like stepping into Narnia. It's a feeling I haven't had for a long time. When you have lived in the same place for ages, you can become jaded. Streets tells me about a study which found that historical walks are as psychologically restorative and calming as green walks, if not more so. The research focused on the particular benefits of cultural heritage sites and how their aesthetics impact the brain. She also flags up a related paper, which I find later. Sam Cooley, a psychologist at the University of Leicester, co-authored a study which echoed the finding that walks in green spaces do not appear to provide more benefits than urban walks. Rather, these walks provide different benefits at different times. 'For example, two people may be wandering through a beautiful and remote nature reserve,' writes Cooley, 'while not connecting with any of the surrounding wildlife, instead focused on the benefits of their social interaction. At the same time, another person may be walking the busy city streets and experience a connection with a single, resilient weed they spot growing in the concrete.' This is all marvellous, of course, and I'm glad there is science to back up the fun we are having. But it is hard to imagine how I might allow myself the time and space to repeat the exercise regularly. What does Streets do herself? 'I start each week by thinking, OK, what do I need this week? Do I need space? Do I need the comfort of trees? Do I need to be in a more enclosed space? Do I need to be near water? The more you learn to listen to your body, the more you will learn where your body wants to be. Do you want to be somewhere green, do you want to be somewhere historic? Do you want to be in the cemetery? I go to cemeteries a lot because you don't always want to be in a happy place or mood.' There is a whole chapter in Streets' book devoted to walking in cemeteries. In any new place, she says, her first visit is usually to the local graveyard because they are a window into the culture and history of a community. 'Among the headstones of history, we see ourselves as we are – a fleeting moment in the endless passage of time, a cluster of cells that, like everything else, will one day return to the earth. Whether we return from a cemetery walk with a feeling of gratitude, awash in gentle melancholy or with a fresh sense of purpose, is up to us,' she writes. We take a quick look inside St Mary-le-Bow and marvel at how one person, Christopher Wren, could lay claim to the design of so many buildings. Then Streets leads me into the glass and chrome nightmare of the One New Change shopping centre, before we skirt round the gorgeous blossoms outside St Paul's Cathedral and stroll down Fleet Street. After an afternoon with Streets, I have experienced for myself the upside of a relaxed urban walk. Not only is this a gentler way to hit your daily step count than running, I do feel genuinely energised. The good news is that if, like me, you are a fair-weather walker or unable to get outside for a stroll for any other reason, indoor walking still has clear benefits. Marily Oppezzo, now a behavioural and learning scientist at the Stanford Prevention Research Center, compared how walking on a treadmill or outdoors affects our creativity. Crucially, her study also compared walking with sitting still both inside and outside. Walking on a treadmill in a small room still achieved good results. In fact, any type of walking boosted people's creativity by an average of 60% compared with not moving, no matter the location. Streets and I end our walk on a bench in a tranquil square in the Inner Temple, one of the four Inns of Court. And yes, you guessed it, there is a study that reveals the cognitive benefits of strolling round urban squares … The Walking Cure by Annabel Streets is published by Bloomsbury, £14.99. To order a copy for £13.49, visit A delivery charge may apply.
