A Fat Rascal in Harrogate

It's been a busy week so far ... three more episodes of the new QI 'K' series in the can on Monday and Tuesday, a trip to Yorkshire to speak for Salon North at the Harrogate International Festival and then a whizz back to London for the first production meeting for series 6 of The Museum of Curiosity, which we record mid-June to mid-July.

Harrogate was great fun. I was sharing the stage with cutting-edge geneticist Professor Tim Spector and classicist, comedian and Booker Prize judge Natalie Haynes. Both lovely people and awesomely talented. Our show was themed 'Ch-ch-changes' and began with Tim explaining how the new science of epigenetics is revealing that our lifestyles have a much greater impact on re-writing our genetic code than we previously thought. Then Natalie spoke about the fact that nothing really changes in drama; how the plots of most modern soap operas follow the plots of the great Greek tragedies and comedies. And then I spoke about change within organisations - and also about changing people's attitudes towards tackling problems of crime and disorder. We had a lovely attentive audience and some great Q and A sessions. The event was staged at The Club in Victoria Avenue, a splendid venue of dark wood panels, creaking floorboards and high ceilings ... and banners that read backwards when the breeze catches them.

Also of interest is the hotel that the festival organisers booked me into. It was none other than the Old Swan Hotel, the place at which Agatha Christie was found alive and well after her mysterious disappearance in 1926. If you don't know the story, here's the quick version ...

In December 1924, Christie's husband Archie revealed that he was in love with Nancy Neele, and stated that he wanted a divorce. He then left their home in Sunningdale, Berkshire, to join his mistress at Godalming, Surrey. That evening, Agatha disappeared from her home, leaving behind a letter for her secretary saying that she was going to Yorkshire. Her car was later found at Newlands Corner, near Guildford. On the back seat was found her driving licence and some clothes. Her disappearance caused an outcry from the public. The Home Secretary, William Joynson-Hicks, put pressure on the police to find her and a reward was offered. Over 1000 police officers, 15,000 volunteers and several aeroplanes were used to scour the rural landscape. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle took one of Christie's gloves to a spirit medium in order to discover the location of the missing woman. But despite an extensive 10 day manhunt, she was not found.

Then on 14th December she was identified as a guest at the Swan Hydropathic Hotel (now the Old Swan Hotel) in Harrogate, Yorkshire, where she had been registered as 'Mrs Teresa Neele' from Cape Town.

Christie never explained her disappearance. Although two doctors had diagnosed her as suffering from 'psychogenic fugue', opinion remains divided. A nervous breakdown from a natural propensity for depression may have been exacerbated by her mother's death earlier that year and her husband's infidelity. Public reaction at the time was largely negative, supposing a publicity stunt or attempt to frame her husband for murder. Or, if you're a Doctor Who fan, some ludicrous plot involving giant wasps.(All of the above adapted from Wikipedia.)

Cool eh? All I know is they do a cracking breakfast and the breakfast room is glorious.

And, talking about my tummy, you can't leave Harrogate without having tea at Betty's, the famous tea rooms. And, on this occasion, buying a box of Fat Rascals to take home. Oh yes.

London 1927 - In Colour

This is just wonderful.



This footage was shot by an early British pioneer of film named Claude Frisse-Greene, who made a series of travelogues using the colour process his father William - a noted cinematographer - was experimenting with. It's like a beautifully dusty old postcard you'd find in a junk store, but moving.

Music by Jonquil and Yann Tiersen.

Found on Vimeo - thanks to Tim Sparke for posting it.

Coming to a festival near you (maybe) ...

I start a busy few months of talks next week with Salon North in Harrogate. Next Wednesday (15th) I'll be at The Club in Victoria Avenue along with epi-geneticist and author Professor Tim Spector and comedian, writer and historian Natalie Haynes to talk about Ch - Ch - Changes.

Then on the 27th and 28th I'll be at the Hay Festival of Literature and the Arts promoting my new book as part of the Unbound team. I'll be talking about the interconnectedness of stuff, of course, and will be joined by such luminaries as Robert Llewellyn, Katy Brand, Salena Godden, George Chopping, Francis Pryor, Charles Fernyhough, Adrian Teal, David Bramwell and ex-Stranglers guitar genius Hugh Cornwell. Most excitingly (for me anyway!), it'll be the first outing for physical copies of Constable Colgan's Connectoscope. Smiley face.

Dates are being added to my schedule all the time and there's a running list over on the top right of this page. If I'm near you, come and say hello!

And yes ... that is a (small) part of my View Master collection. Pity me, dear reader, pity me.

Bucking Brilliant!

I spent a very nice afternoon at Buckinghamshire New University today. I was giving a talk to second and third year psychology students and then watching some of them give presentations of their dissertation proposals. Very, very interesting subject matter and very well presented. I also had to act as a judge to award a prize to what I considered the best. Deciding 'best' was impossible as they were all so different but I had to choose one ... so I went for the one that really impressed me the most - An interpretive phenomenological analysis of a mother's experience of applied behavioural analysis by Emily Stretch (seen on my immediate left).

 

The other excellent presentations were by Mike Parsons, Kimberley Dancer, Sammie Bull, Vicky Mullan, Sophie Rogers and Kaylie Davis.

We're constantly being told that the 'youth of today' is feckless, lazy and violent. Spending a day with young people like this restores my faith in society.

Well done everyone!

And thanks again to Matthew Smith and Ciaran O'Keeffe for inviting me.

Wild Men!

Just recently, while doing some research for the new series of QI, I stumbled upon the photography of Charles Fréger (I should add that there are no spoilers to be had here; this won't be appearing in the new series). 

Fréger has spent the last few years roaming about Europe capturing Wild Men. What I mean by that are the 'wild men' costumes worn during traditional - some very ancient - ceremonies, celebrations and feast days. We have a fair number of these in the UK; where I grew up in Cornwall, people dressed as dragons and demons for Flora Day on May 8th and, further up the Duchy in Padstow, May the 1st every year sees the population being whipped to a frenzy by the whirling demonic card table known as the Obby Oss.

 

 

In Scotland they have the Burry Man, in Hastings there's the Jack in the Green and Lancashire has the ritual of Pace Egging and the black-faced character of Old Tosspot (true!). However, these seem almost tame compared to some of the pagan characters to be found in rural Europe. Here's a taste (all photos copyright Charles Fréger ):

 

 

 

 

Aren't they amazing? Fréger originally planned on covering 12 countries but, as he became immersed in the project, he found himself traveling to more and more places. In an interview with Slate magazine he explains that the concept of a 'Wild Man' is connected to changing of seasons, rites of passage, and other life changing events. He says that many of the traditions are full of joy and, regardless of the country, have a lot in common. 'There was a slight touch of universality because a lot of the groups were doing something similar without knowing one another', he explains. 'Because many of the festivities were focused on animals and vegetation, you could photograph someone dressed like a bear for example in Portugal or Spain or Romania. To me this was really exciting and interesting.'

 

 

There's an exhibition of these images currently in New York at the Hermès flagship store on Madison Avenue, and a different selection of photographs is also being displayed at the Yossi Milo Gallery, in Chelsea. I was so taken with these images that I really wish that I could pop across the pond to see them. Instead I invested in Fréger's book of images Wilder Mann. It is fantastic.

 

 

 

 



The Power of Books - Mladen Penev

I've (naturally) been thinking book covers this week and my friend Chrissi Broughton shared a link to some interesting images by Bulgarian-born Austrian photographer and artist Mladen Penev.

 

His Power of Books series steps away from the book cover and concentrates on the impact of the content instead. I just think they're very cool.

 

 

 

 

 

Cor! Constable Colgan's Connectoscopic Cover!

Ladies and gentlemen, aliens and robots, may I present the MAGNIFICENT cover of my new book ...

 

Isn't it great? It's by the brilliant writer/illustrator of the popular books Goliath, The Gigantic Robot, Hunter and Painter and You're all just Jealous of my Jetpack, the very splendid Mr Tom Gauld.

I met up with Tom last night to thank him for doing such an amazing job. He's as nice as he is talented.

I must also mention the genius that is designer Mark Ecob who sat down with me to work out what was needed and came up with the perfect cover. Just wait until you see the full wrap-around cover - it's gorgeous! But what do you expect from the guy who was recently entrusted to redesign the covers of Iain Banks' fiction books? With Mark and Tom on board, it couldn't fail.

So, there you go! I've been very spoilt. And we have a cover. And, if you pledged on the book through Unbound, the book will be in your hands soon. It's gone off to the printers and, as they can have up to a six week turn around, it should be ready sometime around late May/early June. The e-book should be ready about the same time and I'm recording the audiobook in June. And then the trade paperback will be in the shops in the Autumn, in time for Christmas!

That said, if you didn't pledge on the book but can't wait until September, you can still pledge here and get a copy sent out to you. However, your name won't now be listed in the back as a funder as there has to be a cut-off point for the print process to start.

Exciting times!

Danger! Bad Lyrics in Road!

This first appeared on my blog in 2010. It's worth a reprint.

As I'm sure most of you know, I was once part of an odd little team from Scotland Yard called The Problem Solving Unit that looked at the crime and community issues that traditional policing couldn't shift. Over the years we got involved in some very weird stuff. We also met some amazing problem solvers and many who were ahead of their time. One such was a sergeant from Lambeth, who I won't name, but who in the early 1980s came up with a great idea to solve the problem of kids being knocked down; sing some songs and scare the shite out of them.

The result was a slim printed volume called Road Safety Songs intended for use by police schools officers all over London. I'm pleased to report that I've clung on to my copy all these years. Now I'd like to share some of the highlights with you.


The first thing to note is that, during the course of just 18 pages, the author manages to mow down a dozen kids, mostly using lorries. Take this cautionary tale from 'To the tune of Clementine':

But she dashed right on the roadway
Never heeding brothers nine
And a lorry came and hit her
Foolish foolish Clementine.

Or the royal tragedy laid out in the gripping 'To the tune of The Grand Old Duke of York':

And a lorry came along
And knocked him off his feet,
And now all that's left of the poor old Duke
Is his statue in the street.

Or even the tear-jerking ballad of John the Brixton schoolboy in 'Ode to John' - the only song with a title and no hints as to a tune:

But then one day it happened
As John was out to play.
A lorry come and hit our John
Now he's not feeling gay.

And so it goes on. But my absolute favourite is 'To the tune of Daisy, Daisy' and it goes like this:

David, David, mind how you cross the road
You're half crazy if you don't use the Code
You may be a boy of courage
But if you don't avoid that carriage
Then you'll be sweeped right off your feet
And you'll end up in hospital.

Yes, I know I'm a bad person for taking the Mickey a little tiny bit (although some of the grammar does invite comment). However, I will say this: Sergeant X at least bothered to do his part to make the roads safer and, who knows, he may even have saved a few lives. I absolutely salute him for that. But that doesn't detract from the charming naivety of it all and the fact that 30 years later, it's still making me chuckle. So, children, remember to use your Green Cross Code and ...

Little girls and boys,
Happy in your play,
We don't want an ambulance
To carry you away.

Goodness me, no.

The disturbingly beautiful sculpture of Patricia Piccinini

Somewhere between horror movie monster, biological specimen and fine art, there's Australian artist Patricia Piccinini.

The models are extraordinarily realistic, which adds to their strangeness.

 

 

Personally I love them. What she's doing, of course, is showing us that anything that challenges our perceptions of 'normal' can seem grotesque and uncomfortable.

 



There's a lot more of her work on her website here.

Me and Twitter - It's Complicated

I'm starting to wonder whether Twitter and I have a future. I mean, I love Twitter - no problem there - and I think it likes me. But, just recently, things have become strained between us. We have some compatibility issues.

I was kind of a social media virgin when we met. Okay, yes, I flirted with MySpace but I wasn't in a band so we never got past first base. Bebo seemed nice but maybe a little too young for me. At the other end of the scale, Friends Reunited simply reminded me of how old I was. People said to me that maybe Facebook and I would hit it off. But Facebook was way too brash and it asked too many questions and almost everyone had been there before me (and it seems to have a serious problem with drink). So I said a polite 'no' and kept myself to myself.

But then Twitter came along. It was smart and uncomplicated. It spoke to me succinctly. Twitter asked nothing of me, not even my name and photograph. It accepted me for who I was. I chatted a lot with Twitter and the conversations were fascinating, witty, important, and sometimes hilarious. Twitter introduced me to a whole bunch of people I wouldn't have met before, some of which are now close friends.

But then Twitter changed. Or maybe it was me? I don't know for sure. Where once there had been intelligent debate, there was now raging anger and polemic. Where once there had been humorous deconstruction of celebrity, suddenly there was bitching and pure bloody hatred. Where once we could all get together and have fun, now ... well, the spark had kind of gone.

Maybe we can work things out. I hope so. As I say, I love Twitter and it's been good for me. But there can't be any future for us if I no longer enjoy our time together. When the fun has been sucked out of a relationship, is it really worth fighting to keep it staggering on? Should I give it one more go or should we have a hug and go our separate ways?

It's complicated.