January 20th, 2021

Earworms And Rain

Binge-listening to variant versions of Matty Groves/Little Musgrave means I now have it as an ear worm. It could be worse; it could be the Birdy Song.

My friend David Kettle once set the words of Ezra Pound's poem "The Ballad of the Goodly Fere" to the Matty Groves tune and it fitted rather well- so now when the tune starts circling through my head it's a toss up whether the words I hear will be "A holiday, a holiday" or "I have seen him drive a hundred men". I'd much prefer the former but as often as not I get the latter. "The Goodly Fere" is a chunk of mock medievalism that counts among Pound's juvenilia. He wrote it in protest against the Sunday School vision of Jesus as a faintly masculinised pre-Raphaelite "stunner"- but went too far in the beefcake direction. "Goodly Fere" is a terrible poem- but catchy- and I could wish I'd never caught it...

Storm Christoph is passing through. I was expecting really fierce weather but thus far we've only had rain...

On Mature Reflection

I dreamed I'd co-authored a book about how I came to leave the Church. I was leafing through the finished article and finding it very glum. My co-author was the Rev Dr John Armson- who was chaplain at my theological college. According to the dream he'd counselled me through the process; in reality (this reality) he had nothing to do with it- though he's someone with whom I've always felt I had some sort of link...

Dissatisfied with the book, I felt I wanted to add a postscript in the form of a Q & A.

Q: How did you feel about leaving the Church?

A: Like Billy the Kid.