August 2008 Issue 95

Nicola's Editorial..
ABSENCE…

Unbelievable though this may sound, at the moment I’m actually feeling the absence of both Jack and Andy who have gone away to a farm in Wiltshire for a week, along with lots of other kids and adults – some of the kids being Chinese and not speaking English! The jaunt has been organised by Sheila, so she’s taking along her Chinese husband to act as interpreter. I don’t know exactly what activities the week involves for the kids, some adults were needed also to help supervise. The whole thing sounds pretty amazing, and I must admit to feeling a bit left out of the action. Where as I had been greatly looking forward to a week by myself, it’s actually so long since I’ve been the only one here. It’s not an altogether pleasant feeling but I don’t suppose it will take long for us to get on each other’s nerves again when they return!!

SAYING GOOD-BYE

Two more departures, which are due imminently, are on the cards… my friend Kirsty will be emigrating to New Zealand sometime this month. I’ll miss her, simply because she’s been such a good friend for many years. Although of course we’ll keep in touch, it’s extremely dubious whether we’ll actually be able to meet up in New Zealand! The other friend is Ruth, my trusty helper. She’s going to try a change of career – tree surgery or park rangering are two ideas, which I hope work out! I’d like to dedicate this issue to both of these not-quite-absent friends and wish them luck in the future!

CRAZY ANIMALS

I’ve just come back from a weekend spent at my mum’s in the Cheshire countryside with Brigitte, my weekend helper. It’s lovely to be out in the open countryside during the summer… we strolled around amongst the fields and then got an ice-cream from the cool ice-cream farm. Also we visited Stapely Water Gardens, which is like a massive greenhouse filled with tropical plants and flowers, and of course there are lots of crazy creatures there, such as piranhas, giant turtles, ta tarantulas, different frogs, snakes etc etc. The poisonous creatures are kept in tanks, I might add!! The best animals for me were the meerkats. I only had to remember how crazy these animals looked when they stood up on their back legs, to make myself laugh aloud! The meerkats were a new addition to Stapely… they were situated near the reptiles for some reason. I suspected that an anarchist was in charge, because all the various animals seemed to be mixed up without any apparent reason, which was actually quite nice!

OUT AND ABOUT

I’m enjoying the summer sunshine – when it appears – as always, it’s lovely being outside when it’s so warm. We’ve just booked a week’s camping in Norfolk near to my friend Sally’s, so I’m doubly looking forward to this jaunt. Andy shares my enthusiasm for this little holiday, even though it means he has to go through all the camping stuff to make sure it’s still intact. Jack’s also coming with a friend… it’s a rare thing nowadays to get the whole family together willingly. Hopefully the weather will improve and settle down a little by then.

CELESTIAL FIREWORKS

It’s actually raining at the moment, which is pretty bloody typical of an English summer. But talking about meteorological conditions reminds me of The Day of the Triffids, which Ruth and I have just come to the end of. I thought this was a brilliant book in some ways… the idea of the celestial fireworks was the most dramatic and memorable thing in the book, rather than the man-eating plants, which seemed a bit far-fetched and even silly. Anyway, this is doubtless my own problem but I just found the triffids funny – in fact I kept sniggering, which was very off-putting for Ruth I guess. The idea of everyone waking up blinded by watching these celestial fireworks is a really scary one… especially because the book was written only a few years following the Hiroshima bomb. I remember at school watching War Games and being scared absolutely shitless by it… I had nightmares following it, although I can’t remember exactly what it was now – a sort of drama and documentary combined, I think. It showed some of the effects of the atomic bomb being dropped. The scene I particularly remember showed some kids playing in a back garden when the bomb fell, and they were all rubbing their eyes and crying. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget something like that. Anyway, back to The Day of the Triffids which was pretty amazing, as a novel. We are yet to watch the film but I hope I don’t find it too silly!

THE FORGERY

After The Day of the Triffids we had to find something short to read that we can finish before Ruth’s departure… “How about a short story by Wilde?” Ruth suggested. The Portrait of Mr WH was the obvious choice… I’ve read it all the way through for my dissertation, years ago but thought that rereading it would be interesting, especially after writing The Space Between, or part of it anyway. we’re reading the extended version which has recently been published with Peter Ackroyd’s wonderful introduction… it was in fact this introduction that made me want to write The Space Between rather than the short story itself. The cover emphasizes the main theme of the story – having a finger print over the portrait of Willie Hughes. Wilde notoriously thought that if you believed something strongly enough, you could make it exist, thus religions exist. I don’t quite know how he fitted this in with his own death-bed conversion to Catholicism, but there you go. I strongly suspect that his conversion was simply brought on by the fear and confusion of his last days. I believe he actually became delirious towards the end in fact, so I don’t think any sudden dealings with religion can be taken seriously.

ZIGGY MEETING

But that’s quite enough of Wilde! A word before I go about the recent first meeting of the Manchester branch of the Ataxia group that I attended recently. There were about fifteen people there – I was amazed to find out that only three of them were in Ziggy, and only one other person had Friedreich’s ataxia, the others all having Cerebellar ataxia or being helpers or relatives. I wish that I’d been able to speak to the other woman, by amazing coincidence she was called Suzanne and also has a teenager. Doubtless I’ll see her again at the next meeting. The meeting involved allocating different jobs… my hopes of getting to be editor of the newsletter were thwarted by a twelve-year-old boy who was very keen. One of the most interesting subjects brought up was the existence of two ataxia clinics, one in London and one in Sheffield. I think I will visit this clinic which has a team of experts on hand… it’s useful because not many medical people have ever heard of ataxia, or anyway, they don’t know much about it. So I rather think that a trip to Sheffield might offer some useful alternative advice from experts!

RAW MATERIALS 95
(c) copyright Nicola Batty 2008

Despite being somewhat distracted by the summer heat and enjoying lazy days spent basking in the sun, The Space Between is continuing to develop at a cracking pace. I can see it just beginning to take shape as a novel; at first I was worried because it seemed to be so top heavy… there’s a lot of historical things happening in the first few years, but then there’s sort of a blank space which needs to filled somehow! But as I’m beginning to feel more at home with the characters - particularly the new characters such as Gustave - I’m gaining sufficient confidence to let them grow in their own ways. Also little stories are just budding, which is nice to watch from a distance… although I’m not really watching from a distance, I’m writing the damn thing!
Gustave is on my mind at the moment because I’ve been having lots of different ideas which don’t seem to have worked so they are just thoughts… I couldn’t decide whether Gustave was going to be a really shady character or not, because this didn’t seem to fit in with his anarchism. I felt that I had to be very careful here… because anarchism has such a bad name anyway! I wanted to blow these ideas of anarchism meaning violence to pieces once and for all, and to show it meaning simply an alternative way of life, both peaceful and quite possible. And so if I want Gustave to be a real anarchist, it wouldn’t follow at all to make him steal or be corrupt in any way. I was rather stuck with this extract… how could I make Gustave want to get rid of the manuscript without wanting to make money out of it? Andy reminded me that in those days, Wilde’s manuscript wouldn’t have been worth anything much anyway. So… I thought and thought… but it wasn’t disastrous at all, because it gave me space to develop the Gustave/Suzanne relationship. Also it would lay down several new variations for Gustave to take later on. I’m particularly taken with the idea of having Gustave smoke opium… though whether or not this will come up is another matter! We shall see.

I also want to develop the relationship between Gustave and Esther Pissaro, which I don’t want to make definatly a romantic/ sexual one yet something more than a friendship. I at the same time I have to remember they are both anarchists so there would be no cheating or lying involved to her husband. It's got to be an interesting triangle; obviously it's not always going to be all easy going between the three of them, plenty of spikes and misunderstandings… but basically a shared house of trust.

The piece I’ve just finished writing and did originally intend to include here is with Jack and Georges, where Georges gives Jack back the drawing from Little Red Riding Hood which he borrowed some years ago. Though it was nice it was important to spend time with both of them and to show their closeness which will become necessary later in the novel - I think it’s not so important as it’s maybe being over taken now by other things… and so you will have to wait until the novel is published!

I wanted to spend more time with Jack than I have done in The Spark; it’s necessary for what’s going to happen that his character should be developed.
More Raw Materials in RM#96

THE SPACE BETWEEN
(C) Copyright Nicola Batty 2008

THE STORY SO FAR

The year is now 1901; following Wilde’s death in Paris, the whereabouts of the manuscript appears to be unknown. Both Ricketts and Ross are anxious to trace the missing manuscript, which they want to publish at the Vale Press. It seems that Gustave - who has come over from Paris to London recently and is now living in Whitechapel – knows something about the manuscript but will not elaborate. The following extract takes place in the Old House, which belongs to Lucien and Esther Pissarro – Gustave has taken a room there in exchange for doing some building work.

CHAPTER 1 – 1901

Heaving a great sigh, Gustave glanced at his companion, making sure she was involved in the scene he described. Although Esther’s face was in shadow, the gentle firelight caught the deep green glints of her eyes, in such a way that Gustave knew that she understood him perfectly.

“My friend was dying, you see… so it was very important that we should share these things, this great spirit, at this time. I’ll never forget him, or the things he said.”

He fell silent and gazed into the fire. Esther watched the firelight throwing moving shadows over Gustave’s face, accentuating the fine chiseling of his cheekbones and the strangely shifting colour of his eyes, which sometimes seemed to have a definite dark blue about them, sometimes a green, but then again, sometimes neither, something completely undefined. Leaning forward, Esther laid her hand tentatively on her companion’s arm and spoke hesitantly, as if afraid to bring Gustave back from Paris.

“Tell me Gustave, who was he, this great friend who left such an impression on you? What was his name?”

For a while Gustave made no reply; then he smiled very slightly, as if holding the great man’s hand once again. He shook his head as if to awaken himself from his trance and leaned forward to stub out his cigarette in the fire.

“The name I knew my friend by in those days was Mr Wilde, Esther,” he answered smoothly. “For I was quite a different person in those days if you understand my meaning. Mr Wilde was also staying at my father’s hotel and that’s where we met and that’s also where he died. I shared his last days with him, I’ll never forget Mr Wilde.”

“Do… do you mean… Oscar Wilde, Gustave?” asked Esther. Gustave nodded. Her face was alight with recognition and remembrance at once, and she laughed aloud in delight. “Then I know exactly what you mean. I met Oscar several times… mostly with Lucien, though sometimes by myself. You’re right, he was a very great man who will never die in a way.”

“Somehow that comes as no great surprise to me, Esther… that you knew him.” Esther’s smile was ambiguous, hinting at a touch of regret within it. “I still remember many things that he said, and indeed I still have something that he gave to me, a manuscript…” His eyes were drawn towards the tea chest that Esther sat on. Standing quickly, he moved towards her and pulled her to her feet, suddenly. “If you will excuse me a minute… you are sitting on the Parisian chest.”

Esther watched the Frenchman open the tea chest and rummage amongst its contents. Finally he drew out a manuscript, held together with stiff brown card; getting to his feet slowly, he turned to Esther and offered it to her, wanting her to take it, as if it were nothing but a heavy burden to him. Esther took the manuscript reluctantly, glancing at him.

“I’m not sure you should have this, Gustave. Are you sure Oscar gave it to you?”

“Yes,” he replied sharply, turning away and staring moodily into the fire. Beside him, Esther turned the pages of the manuscript carefully, her eyes roaming over Wilde’s small, neat writing. “Well… I’m not certain that Mr Wilde intended me to take the manuscript away with me, for that was my own decision. I wanted to keep something to myself, a part of him, something to remember him by, I suppose. At first I wanted to keep this… but now I don’t. I don’t want anything to do with it. It’s not mine. I shouldn't have it at all. I was a different person entirely when he first showed me this manuscript in Paris… you must understand that Esther.” Turning to her abruptly, Gustave reached out and stroked back her long hair from her face gently. “But now I’ve changed and that part of my life is dead and gone. It’s over. So… I don’t want the manuscript any longer. Would you like it?”
More from The Space Between in RM#96
URBAN SCRAWL!!
Welcome to Andy's bit..
LOWER SHAW FARM
I just got back from an amazing place in Wiltshire, it's called Lower Shaw Farm and I went along to spend the last week doing Summer Activities there, their explanation not mine. The farm is a three acre site almost hemmed in by a housing estate to the west of Swindon and comprises of a wonderful period farmhouse and an assortment of outbuildings including the former cowshed and woodshed and a barn. The real essence of the place though is not so much the infrastructure or the location but the people.
SOLAR PANEL
One of the people who works there is called Paul and he was building a solar panel to heat the washing up water for the sink in the dairy. It was simply a second-hand central heating radiator, (the kind of thing you probably have in your house right now) which he mounted onto a wooden frame. After stripping all the old paint off the radiator panel first and repainting it with a matt black finish, he then covered it with a triplex glazing sheet so the whole thing was encased, coffin like and then tilted at a good angle to face the sun. A plastic 15mm pipe was then attached to the radiator and the mains cold feed via a tap and then another one to over the sink, to bring back the heated water.
AMAZING TIME
It really was an amazing time and the people I met at Lower Shaw Farm really made the difference for me. Although, I managed to take part in a number of Summer Activities like the bread making workshop and an afternoons cycling which I thoroughly enjoyed, I think the actual communication between the different ones there, not least the children, was the thing that I felt made it a special time for me. When I left, shortly after midday I didn't get to say goodbye to many people, I thought it would be too emotional, so I just left, after packing Jack into the van. Did I mention that Jack came with me? I hope people weren't offended by our sudden departure but I really couldn't face all those good byes!
More from Urban Scrawl Andy and more LSF stuff in RM#96

July 2008 Issue 94

Nicola's Editorial

THE ANARCHIST TRAVELS
No more dramatic accidents to report in this issue… my life - and face - seem to have resumed near enough their normal shape. I can travel quite happily in the van now, though I prefer to get out of Ziggy and into the passenger seat, which is okay but frustrating, because the whole idea of getting the van was to enable me to travel easily in Ziggy! Although Andy doesn’t mind lifting me into the seat, this won’t be possible forever. So what’s to be done? I wish we could go back to the old ways of travelling in Ziggy, without all the so called “safety regulations”, which are such a pain. Speaking as an anarchist, I wonder if I can’t take the responsibility for my safety upon my own shoulders and travel without all the wheel clamps, safety belts etc. Andy says that he’d get prosecuted if we had an accident, but can’t I take the risk myself? That’s the whole idea of anarchism, that individuals are responsible for themselves.
BIRTHDAY SEASON
At the moment everybody seems to be having their birthday: Ruth, Jack next week, Brigitte the week after and also my friend Kirsty, who’ll be leaving for New Zealand soon. While I must admit to being a little bit jealous of her for making such a dramatic change to her life, I also feel very sad because I doubt very much whether I will get to see her again!! Although I would love to go to New Zealand one day, I can’t imagine it being practical… it’s so far away! Jack’s going to the theatre for his birthday to see a one-man version of Star Wars… which I can’t imagine! I’m very curious, and I hope Jack will give me a detailed description of it, though I some how doubt he will, as he seems to have adopted the usual teenage silence, at least as far as communication with his parents goes. The summer seems to be a particularly popular time to be born in… I wonder why this is? Can there be any relation between the warm weather and the increased birth rate??
TRIFFIDS: NO LAUGHING MATTER
We’re continuing to read and greatly enjoy John Wyndham’s classic The Day of the Triffids. Although some of the ideas in the story seem quite dated, other bits are really scary… particularly the idea of nobody being able to see, which actually seems to have nothing to do with the appearance of the triffids themselves, though I always thought that the two things were connected. I must admit to having some problems taking the idea of walking plants seriously; although I wanted to watch the old film again, I some how suspect I would fall about laughing… in which case I think it’s probably just as well I can’t see it! I think the triffids would have been much more scary if Mr Wyndham had made them simply glide along, rather like JK Rowling’s dementors. But I can’t visualise groups of triffids marching or chasing people… perhaps this is just my problem, having grown up on a diet of Monty Python.
TRIP TO WALES
From triffids to train travel… a few weeks ago I went with Brigitte, one of my helpers, to stay with a friend who lives near Newport. It was Brigitte’s first outing into Wales, so she was quite excited!! It was a first for me as well – a first time for travelling by train without my sight. Although this gradual loss of sight has been going on for years, it’s recently come home to me that I have to rely on other senses to realise what’s happening around me. It’s amazing how much you can tell about where you are simply by smells and sounds… this is particularly true with trains, which are full of station sounds whenever the train stops and it’s also an enjoyable sensation, the motion of the train. So the entire journey wasn’t half as nerve-wrecking as I though it would be, in fact it was quite fun!
CAERLEON
Deborah and her husband actually live just outside Newport in a village that has a fantastic Roman amphitheatre in it. Deborah has an electric Ziggy and so she managed to go round the amphitheatre and the village by herself, which was just as well! Although I loved the old amphitheatre, it was difficult to reconcile it with the sounds of traffic outside… I was very aware of not being able to see it!! I kept thinking of scenes from The Life of Brian, which also didn’t help me take it seriously. In a different part of Caerleon there were statues of King Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere… I wondered what the link was between the village and the statues, and Deborah said it was something to do with the round table. I was a bit mystified; Andy and I saw pieces of the round table on the walls of a castle in Winchester, so I’m not sure if Deborah meant there were actually several different legends connecting Caerleon with the round table.
ROMEO AND JULIET
Just before our trip to Wales, Andy and I went to see a production of Romeo and Juliet in Heaton Park. Although I enjoyed the very rare experience of being out with Andy (!) I found it extremely difficult to follow the action of the play without my sight… because it was an open-air production, it was extra difficult for me. I was trying to listen out for music between scenes, and things like sword fighting and people screaming… but there was none of that! Although the production did have swords, there was also a Volkswagen van on stage and most of the actors wore jeans. According to Andy, this mixture of times worked well – though it bothered me when he told me about the play afterwards. What I would really love to do is to see one of Shakespeare’s tragedies at The Globe theatre… surely you must be able to feel the age of everything. Still on the subject of Shakespeare… I’m still considering whether or not to tackle Peter Ackroyd’s massive biography of the bard. I’m very temped to, particularly in relation to The Portrait of Mr WH and Mr Ackroyd’s reading of it.
THE NEW ZIGGY
You may remember me telling you that I had finally received a new Ziggy and was trying it out. But it actually seemed to cause more problems than it solved… so we took it back to the Ziggy clinic and asked if they had any alternative ideas. A simple foam wedge underneath the cushion was suggested as an alternative to having a completely different cushion that didn’t allow much movement. Well, I like the foam wedge much better, in this case Andy’s favourite saying is true: the simplest ideas are usually the most affective. I’ve also ordered another cushion, filled with gel, which should be more comfy, as the last gel cushion I had was. This last one came to a sorry end when the sack of gel somehow exploded and it all began to leak out, which was pretty messy! However, we’ll try again, and better luck this time.
SUMMER SLOWNESS
Apologies for the lateness in the arrival of this issue. There’s no excuse really, apart from a general laziness, which always comes about in summer. Talking of RAW MEAT, I suppose that it must be its birthday fairly soon… can you imagine, almost one hundred issues have been written and – presumably – read?? It seems very strange because I can still vividly remember writing the first issue, which is like the memory of a very old person seeming to become sharper the further back it goes. Anyway, I’ll finish this issue here… (which seems filled with me going on about problems with my sight!) But I hope you’ll forgive this, it must just be a gradual realisation that has come upon me… if that makes any sense.

RAW MATERIALS 94
copyright (c) Nicola Batty 2008

Because I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to go thru and edit The Spark, I have sort of given it up for a while and turned my attention instead to carrying on writing The Space Between, which is a welcome relief! The situation as it stands is really frustrating… I know that The Spark needs careful editing and altering, but I’ve come to a point where I am unable to do it myself. So what do I do now? It’s a big question and I don’t really know the answer… there must be one. There is absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t go on writing… it’s just going thru the damn stuff afterwards that is a pain in the arse! So to keep myself from becoming to disheartened by all this I’ve taken up where I left off with chapter one of The Space Between… and it’s going fine, there is no problem with that. Writing is the easy bit!

It was really nice to bring Ricketts into this new novel and pick up old threads of story that are still unfinished. The Vale Press is still struggling along but on the way out… and I want Charles to be aware of this, in fact, he sort of brought it on! The exchange between him and Ross now comes quite naturally, as though I feel I know them by this stage. I am still unsure whether or not to leave Ricketts completely after the Vale Press is finished… I am tempted to keep him in the background but I don’t want to go against historical fact, which shows him to have lived happily with Shan. But this doesn’t make good fiction and it’s the same problem with the Pissaros.
Talking of dramatic incidents, it seems that Charles Shannon had a pretty good death; apparently he fell off a ladder whilst hanging a picture… quite a suitable end for an artist don’t you think? But the story doesn’t actually end there - Shannon lived on for a few more years in some sort of asylum; when he fell he damaged his brain, but to what extent I don’t know. Presumably Ricketts was still able to communicate with him at the end, but the Internet doesn’t tell me that much… so there leaves another space to be filled in future.

Taking up advice from another Wilde writer, I recently got in touch with an Irish literary agent who are interested to see The Spark… so fingers crossed! I’m still not totally convinced of the necessity of agents for writers, particularly because I wasn’t impressed with the last one I had 20 years ago. I’m aware that some writers manage quite well on their own but I feel that it’s particularly difficult for me, both because of the editing difficulties I’ve already mentioned and also because of the specialist nature of the stuff I write, which does not appeal to a large readership. Also I’ve found that more and more publishers only accept manuscripts through agents and whether I approve of this situation or not is irrelevant, if I need an agent initially to make the break into the publishing world then so be it. While I’ve got absolutely no intention of selling out on my principles, particularly regarding Ziggy… I still don’t want him (Ziggy) to interfere in any way with my writing, even though that seems pretty impossible sometimes! Anyway, I mean that I accept that I might need some help to get started or at least to become a published writer. Whether or not this may involve an agent is debatable… but I am quite willing to do whatever is necessary.

THE SPACE BETWEEN…
copyright (c) Nicola Batty 2008

THE STORY SO FAR.
The year is 1901 and Wilde has recently died in Paris, supposedly leaving his manuscript in the care of Ross. The following conversation takes place in the garden of Charles Rickett’s house in Richmond, which he shares with his partner Shannon

CHAPTER 1 – 1901

“Excellent Cognac, Robbie… from Paris, I take it?”
“Of course. And I brought some other things of Oscars back too…some manuscripts, you understand? I was wondering if perhaps the Vale Press would be able to publish anything? I was thinking of a short story, as a sort of tribute to Oscar’s memory. What do you think Charles?”
Charles studied his friend’s expression, remembering his own reluctance to become involved with such a project several years before. He also felt vaguely uneasy; the flames eating up the manuscript of Oscar’s story seemed to be physically threatening his mind, gnawing at the edges until they killed. He cleared his throat very softly before he spoke.
“That would be a fine thing for the Vale Press to do, though it comes rather too late, I’m afraid. You see, the press hasn’t fully recovered from the Ballentyne fire… I fear it must end soon.” Charles shrugged, draining his glass and putting it down sharply on the table. When he turned back to Ross his smile was apologetic. “And so you see Robbie, that we’re not in a very good position at the moment.”
“Yes, I see that,” said Ross carefully, “but this last publication could be a sort of swansong… a quite fitting tribute, I think.” He paused, sitting forward in his chair and clasping his hands on his knees. “You could make a beautiful edition of The Portrait of Mr WH, couldn’t you? You still have the copy I left with you all those years ago, don’t you?”
Charles folded back his shirtsleeves with very careful movements; his throat felt suddenly dry and he avoided Ross’s eyes.
“I rather hoped that Oscar himself would’ve kept a copy,” he said finally, “and that it would’ve been amongst the manuscripts you brought back.”
“Ah…” Ross sat back against the velvet cushions with a small sigh. His eyes filled with a great sadness, a great emptiness. “That’s what I hoped too, but I searched his room and could find no trace of the extended manuscript, which I handed over to him myself some years ago. I can only presume he must have given it to someone… which seems a very odd thing for him to do, knowing how careful he was about his own writing. Still… I thought that you might have the old version in your possession.”
Stepping forward, Charles seized the bottle and filled both of their glasses, using the movement to distract himself from the confrontation. But he had to face it… sooner or later he had to face it. Looking directly into Ross’s eyes over the rim of his glass, he spoke in a low voice, his words measured like medicine.
“I’m afraid I lost the manuscript. It’s gone… gone completely.”
“Gone completely?” Ross repeated. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean that I destroyed it, Robbie. In a moment of weakness, I destroyed it.”
There was only the sound of the night around them, enveloping them within its gentle folds. In the distance a church bell tolled mournfully and from Richmond Park, beyond the garden fence, there came the sound of the river meandering by. Charles listened to the peaceful sounds around him; they all seemed to gather and conspire against him, for there was no peace for him. He clenched his hands, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. Turning away from Ross, he went over to the railings and stared over the garden fence, into the park. After a while, he forced himself to speak, though his words were strangled within his dry throat.
“I’m sorry… but you understand… I was frightened by Oscar’s arrest… you see that, don’t you?”
For a while, Ross made no reply, simply raising his glass to his lips and draining it slowly. Stretching out his arm, he put down his glass beside the candle and stood up, carefully smoothing out the creases in his trousers.
“Don’t worry Charles… I understand perfectly. That original manuscript would be of little use to me anyway, it’s simply so frustrating… I had the new version at my finger tips in Paris… so near and yet, it slipped beyond my grasp…” His words trailed away into nothing as he sighed wearily and rubbed his face as if trying to wake himself from a bad, persistent dream.
More Raw Materials and another extract from Nicola's-work-in-progress-trilogy in RM#95

URBAN
SCRAWL!
Welcome to Andy's bit...

BACK TO NORMAL?
Things are settling down nicely now and the weather is back to normal, which means that in this neck of the woods it rains about half the time. The other half I must say, is absolutely fabulous! The sun light really seems to make a difference to the way we/I view things, even when it isn't possible to go outside and enjoy the weather, just being able to see the sunlight through the windows makes everything seem okay.
VANTASTIC
I read that Nic (in her editorial) is still banging on about seat belts and floor clamps for Ziggy and such stuff. She thinks that all the modern regulations are unnecessary and that as a good anarchist she should ignore the law of the land and ride in the back of the van without any safety harness whatsoever. - Well I'm sorry Nic, but the floor clamps are needed and the seat belt is too. If we did have a bump, it really would be curtains. Spending a couple of minutes at each end of a journey, is all that it takes to be safe.
JACK'S BIRTHDAY
Phew, is it that time of year again? Sometimes, time seems to fly by and this year is going so quickly for me. I don't know what happened to Easter and Whit? But all of a sudden it's Jack's birthday and the school holidays are just about to start and Nic wants to go camping and her helpers want to take their holidays and Glastonbury is already over...
More from Urban Scrawl Andy in RM#95

June 2008 Issue 93

JACK'S PICTURE

Nicola's Editorial

CHRISTENING THE NEW VAN
As soon as we got our new van delivered a couple of weeks ago, Andy and I took it out for a quick spin before breakfast. When we arrived back home – disaster! While Andy’s back was turned I somehow managed to roll across the van and straight out the side door, making contact with the pavement with my usual style. It was actually quite dramatic, there was plenty of blood and I attracted quite a little crowd of curious onlookers; I’m becoming quite well known in Moss Side for incidents such as this.
HOSPITAL
The rest of the scene is pretty foggy to me: I think I was completely confused as to exactly what had happened, although I was aware of being taken to hospital and stitched up etc. Ruth and I took a bet on the number of stitches my wound would require – I suppose Ruth was closest with six, though there were actually five on the outside and two in. Imagine having stitches inside… it sounds yucky but in fact I didn’t feel it thanks to the local anaesthetic. All my bruises were quite wonderfully psychedelic at first, although they have now almost faded completely. But still the scar remains above my eye, much better than Harry Potter’s!! It was one way to liven up a mundane Friday morning I suppose!
SAFETY REGULATIONS??
Ever since this little escapade, I’ve been very nervous of setting foot (or wheel) in the van again… perhaps understandably. I don’t like the idea of having to put these wheel clamps on Ziggy, as is the law nowadays. I don’t think it’s necessary at all; I’ve travelled in a van countless times before with no problem concerning Ziggy sliding around, as long as Ziggy’s brakes are on. It seems to me to be more dangerous to put the damn things in place, being a distraction for the person who’s got to fart around with them!
SEAT BELTS
I also get impatient with having to wear about four seat belts… which seems to me to be absolutely ridiculous: why can’t I just have one like everybody else. All these new “safety regulations” seem totally arbitrary, why on earth have the powers that be brought them in suddenly? It used to be so easy to get in the back of a van, but now it’s nothing but a pain in the arse. We’re still trying out different methods as there are quite a few seats available in the van, but these seem to be a bit difficult for Andy to help me into and I think back longingly to when it used to be such an easy way to travel.
STILL INTACT
However, I live to tell the tale. It seems strange to think back on the event now, a few weeks later; now that all the psychedelic bruises have almost completely faded… though I don’t think that I’ll be able to forget the incident in a hurry. In fact I had to stay in hospital for a couple of days due to my continual throwing up, which I suppose was quite a natural reaction. I remember being very impressed by the extreme patience and skill of the doctor as he stitched me up; I thought this must be a far more useful and essential job to have, rather than working in a factory or something.
ANOTHER ZIGGY TALE?
Andy has suggested making another Ziggy Collection of tales of my various accidents over the years, and this one would of course be in it. But I’m not that confident about the idea… I suspect that going on and on about such catastrophes would become simply tedious after a while. This accident made both Andy and I think about our day in Paris several years ago, which involved a visit to Oscar Wilde’s hotel room, me being proposed to by a charming drunk Frenchman, and also a similar injury sustained by me in the Pere Lachaise Cemetery whilst searching for Modigliani’s grave. This day is recalled in the Ziggy collection, which is now available in electronic form on CD. The cover illustration is by my dad and the collection includes a new story called Second Sight. Should you wish to order the CD, see Andy’s column for details.
STRATFORD-UPON-AVON
Last week we travelled down to Shakespeare’s birthplace – with absolutely no more dramatic incidents. We met up with our friend Sheila and did all the usual Shakespeare stuff; seeing the house where he was born, the Shakespeare Museum etc. The best thing about the Shakespeare Museum was that the information film took you into a room next door that had a stage where the witches’ scene from Macbeth was re-enacted by holograms. Although lots of it was lost on me I could feel and hear the special effects they used; the wind and the thunder. I was also able to see the flashes of lightening, which completed the storm nicely!
HAMLET
Not too far from the museum were the four statues that I remembered seeing fifteen years ago and knew that one of them was my favourite, Hamlet of course, holding Yorick’s skull. Andy and I recalled the time we had last visited Stratford to see my friend Nick, when he was performing with Kenneth Brannagh in Hamlet and staying with some other actors in a lovely old house next to the theatre. Even though I was pregnant at the time, I can’t have been too heavy for Andy to carry me upstairs where I remember we stayed. As I recall, we said goodbye to Nick on the Sunday afternoon, leaving him content with a bottle of whisky and his favourite film, Jason and the Argonauts on telly.
MR ACKROYD’S BIOGRAPHY
Being in Stratford reminded me about the biography of Shakespeare by Peter Ackroyd, which I’ve intended to read for ages but have always been daunted by its size! As I love Mr Ackroyd’s writing, I think it would be worth it; I can’t envisage it being just a dry biography of facts… it must be worth the effort, I suspect. Has anyone else read this biography and can tell me anything about it? I’m very interested to find out more about Shakespeare’s life, particularly about his relationship with Willie Hughes (Shakespeare’s boy love that Wilde wrote about in The Portrait of Mr WH.)
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
But that is future reading… at the moment Ruth and I have just reached the end of the wonderful Lewis Carroll’s second Alice tale, which was every bit as wonderful as I remembered it being when I first read it twenty-five years ago! The book is inseparable from Tenniel’s illustrations; I still remember most of them in detail having copied several of them myself in the old days. The idea of basing the story on a chess game is surreal; I still have an Alice chess set in which some of the pieces are characters from Alice in Wonderland such as the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit, and some are from Through the Looking Glass like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the White Knight etc. I used to be a good chess player… I wonder if it would still be possible for me to play a game of chess without my sight? It’s an intriguing idea… it must be possible to play something by touch… especially with a set such as mine where each piece is very distinctive in shape. Any suggestions?
JAMES JOYCE
After Alice I’ve decided to move forward a few years into the Twentieth Century; I decided to attempt to tackle Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man once again, having been very impressed when I first read it many years ago. I’ve just received the tape of it and so feel I should give it a go, even though I have misgivings simply because it’s not really an easy read for anyone, and particularly difficult for me maybe. However, my Dad has lent me a guide to the book, which I’m finding pretty useful so far. To be quite honest though, I’m not enjoying the book quite as much this time round, though I’m not sure why… much of the beauty of the language and striking visual imagery doesn’t come across as strongly. It seems like very hard work… and I just want to read some fiction!! So we’ve started John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids, which is a much more enjoyable read. Its opening chapter is particularly striking for me; the idea of everybody waking up blind is totally terrifying… I remember well the black and white film scaring me witless!! Neither Ruth nor I have read the book before so it’s a bit of a new experience… a first step into the world of science fiction.
COBWEB FOUND
I’m going to wind up this issue with a bit of good news. It concerns our cat Cobweb, who’s been missing for a week. We’ve just received a phone call from a cat sanctuary in Buxton to say she’s been found, safe and intact! I’m intrigued to know what she was doing in Buxton, which is twenty odd miles away!! It makes you wonder…

RAW MATERIALS #93
Copyright Nicola Batty (c) 2008
As if I foresaw the coming events of this month and knew that I would be otherwise occupied with getting my head stitched up etc, I prepared this piece for inclusion several weeks ago. I’m going to ask you to give me some feedback on this piece; I’m pretty worried about it, simply because it’s a fairly complicated idea from one of my other novels and as nobody will be familiar with the story I’m afraid that what I’m trying to do won’t work at all. The idea of swapping sexual identities is one that I used in The Turn Of The Century Party; I’ve always been pretty fascinated by such ideas and wanted to refer to it again in The Space Between but I don’t know if this has worked in practice. The original intention was to make The Turn Of The Century Party available on CD in the near future, so that people can read a fuller explanation of the Gustav/Suzanne story if they want but I don’t know if this will come to fruition. So if you could just send me an e-mail or leave a comment and let me know if it’s bloody confusing as it stands, or whatever… and I can take it from there.
Although I think I’d be prepared to scrap the Suzanne/Gustav idea, I’d be quite sad to do so because I do think it’s quite an intriguing one… and also leads on into Gustav’s character further. I’m quite taken with Gustav, I’ll admit; he’s absolutely charming and wonderful to write about but I don’t trust him an inch!! I’m not quite sure what exactly he’s going to do… but I feel sure that it’s got to be underhand in someway! Perhaps George will also be involved as I also think he deserves more of a look-in in this novel, simply because he’s quite a wonderful character and much more trustworthy than Gustav, particularly in his relationship with Jack which I think could be developed.
Despite all my struggles to keep the relationship between Robbie Ross and Harriet as credible as possible I do think that in the end you just need to take a bit of an imaginative leap! To have an employer talking to his servant about transvestism is a bit far fetched perhaps… but there you go, such is the beauty of fiction and I can see that The Space Between is going to be a little less concerned with realism and history than The Spark… although I still want to use history from time to time as a basis, I also want to bring in my own fiction – I’m not talking about my own novels here but rather fresh ideas to work into history. I’ve got several historical characters that I don’t really know that much about, their lives are like Freddie’s in that they’re missing gaps that are crying out to be filled in. this is what I’m trying to do with The pace Between and I hope it works!
We’re still in the process of going through The Spark; we’re about half way through now, having just reached the end of 1895. Most of 1895 has been concerned with Wilde’s arrest etc and I suspect that I’ve gone too far into this and pieces need chopping… but I’m also afraid to do so because it may be alright after all! I think I’ll have to ask other people to give me some feedback before I do any slashing!!! I’ve also got no idea what to do with The Spark as regards publisher’s etc as it’s obviously very un-commercial and appeals to a specialised market – which is not to say that it’s no good of course… it’s just that I don’t really know where to start. I’m trying to get in touch with The Oscar Wilde Society but so far no luck. Andy’s suggestion of bringing the novel out ourselves on CD is quite a tempting one… although I’d still have the old problem of not knowing how to go about selling it!! This side of writing is one I don’t wish to get involved with at all – I think I need a business manager, rather like Rickett’s with his bookshop. And don’t talk to me about agents as I can’t get any interest from them… let’s face it, I just don’t know what to do. Any ideas??
More Raw Materials in RM#94

THE SPACE BETWEEN
Copyright Nicola Batty (c) 2008
THE STORY SO FAR…
It’s now 1901, and Robbie Ross has just returned from France, where he was with Wilde when he died in Paris. As far as we know the manuscript of The Portrait of Mr WH is still in Paris. The following scene takes place in Ross’s house where Harriet is working as a house maid.
The following extract is from Nicola's work-in-progress-trilogy and may be very different from the finished work.
TAKEN FROM THE SPACE BETWEEN, CHAPTER 1…
“So tell me about yourself, Harriet. It seems unbelievable to me that you’ve not changed at all since I left. Surely Oscar’s death must have touched you… as it has touched me?”
Harriet didn’t answer for several moments; she sat down carefully on the very edge of the sofa, her hands clenched together in her lap. She drew in her breath very slowly and released it, feeling the air tremble as she did so.
“Of course. I felt Mr Wilde’s passing before anyone had told me of it. The moment of his death was as clear to me as if I had been present in the room with him… does that make sense to you, Mr Ross?”
“Certainly it does.” Ross leant back against the cushions, still munching on his toast. Almost imperceptibly, his gaze shifted from Harriet’s face to the rooftops of the stately houses opposite, outlined against the blue sky behind her head. He continued to speak in a low voice. “You know Harriet, I can’t forget that moment, when his spirit rushed from him on his last breath… it’s still fixed in my memory after all this time, and will remain so. I can recall every second that passed, so clearly… even though it was all so confused that I don’t know if all that happened really took place at all. It was so strange Harriet; the daughter of the hotel owner was there… and this was actually Suzanne, the same Suzanne that Oscar mentioned in his letter. As Suzanne and Oscar were quite close in those last few weeks… I don’t know exactly why but there seemed to be something they shared between them that drew them together. Anyway she seemed to be a great comfort to him and so…” He gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “And so I needed no further explanation. It was clear to me that this woman was far from real, yet I found myself accepting the disguise without question, because that’s exactly what Oscar did and he needed her beside him just as he needed me beside him. Oscar always feared dying alone… isolation terrified him. I only wanted to help him, to reassure him.” Breaking off with a sigh, Ross suddenly buried his face in his hands; Harriet watched him nervously, unsure what to do or say. She waited patiently as Ross removed his hands slowly from his face, turning his eyes directly to Harriet’s. She was not surprised to see that they were wet with tears. “One moment we were the watching him die… and the next, Gustav was gone… quite gone, vanished… along with his disguise, because Suzanne also was gone completely. Her dress was the only part of herself she left behind… so that we all knew they hadn’t been a dream, but had actually existed.” His frown deepened as he recalled the details of the night. Harriet listened, spellbound. “I saw Suzanne being stripped away and revealed to be the sham that she was, just a disguise. Gustav’s disguise… because he and Suzanne were the same person – two faces of the same coin. Gustav was real, and he stood in her place… I saw him but only briefly… then he was gone and nobody saw him again.” Catching Harriet’s eye, Ross smiled apologetically and shook his head. “I’m sorry Harriet… this must all sound quite absurd to you. And it is absurd; it makes very little sense to me.”
Harriet cleared her throat very softly, raising her hand slowly to tuck back some stray strands of dark hair behind her ear.
“But… what happened to him? To Gustav?”
Shaking his head slowly as if to clear it, Ross got carefully to his feet and brushed some crumbs from the front of his shirt.
“Nobody knows, as I said… he was quite gone. I would’ve liked to question him further about his disguise but… that, I rather think, will have to remain a mystery.”
Smoothing down the creases in his trousers with a sudden air of impatience, Ross shrugged once again and it seemed to Harriet that he was shrugging away all the vivid recollections of the night when his friend had died.
“But Mr Ross… all this is so confusing to me. I’m not sure that I understand it, I’m afraid,” said Harriet, feeling a sense of panic rising inside her, almost as if she were drowning. Awkwardly, she got to her feet. “I can see why you thought the whole thing was a dream.”
Gazing at her levelly, Ross drained his cup of coffee and returned the cup to the tray.
More from Nicola's work-in-progress-trilogy in RM#94

Urban Scrawl!
Welcome to Andy's bit...
VANTASTIC
The new van is fantastic however, a bit of the shine was taken off it with Nicola's accident happening on the day we got it. I had really been looking forward to driving the thing and then of course after what happened I couldn't get exited about it anymore and everything has become a bit of a chore. Anyway..
SEAT BELTS
I know what Nic means about the seatbelts, they are a bit of a pain to rig-up, there are six in all. Four of them are floor clamps to hold Ziggy down, then there's a big belt that goes round Nic and Ziggy and finally there's a normal seat belt that holds Nic in place. It takes a few minutes to set up but once everything is in place Ziggy and Nic are rock-solid secure. No matter what Nic says about just having one belt etc. she really needs all of the stuff if she wants to travel in the van in Ziggy, otherwise it's just too dangerous.
OTHER SEATS
There are of course other seats in the van and Nic can easily travel in one of them if she so desires although she does say that Ziggy is more comfortable for her. I'm not to sure about that, the front passenger seat is a swivel-seat captains chair with double arm rests and it's really comfy. We went up to Boggart Hole Clough (a Manchester park) today and on the way back Nic travelled in the front seat. I think she liked it!
CATNAPPED
Nic's cat Cobweb was kidnapped and held to ransom! Unbelievable but true. Yesterday we got a phone call from a cat sanctuary near Buxton in Derbyshire which is twenty odd miles from central Manchester where we live. How did Nic's little cat travel so far by herself? we asked. The answer was that she was brought in as a stray cat, some person had taken it upon themself to 'rescue' Cobweb from starving to death.
COBWEB BATTY
Cobweb Batty is a very slim cat but she is certainly not starving. Yes, she probably was hungry at 7.30 am after a hard night out on the tiles, but she was just waiting to be let in for her breakfast at 8am like she does everyday when Jack leaves for school. So, to whom it may concern: PLEASE DON'T FEED OUR CAT!
REPEATED MESSAGE
CD WHAT? Okay, and I'm sure I've said this before but to all those that don't know yet, Nicola's latest publication 'The Complete Ziggy Collection' is NOT an audio book! No, it is a digital book, you read it on your computer monitor or down/upload it to a special screen reader type device thingy that you can put in your pocket. It (The Complete Ziggy Collection) comes in a dvd case that you can keep on your book shelf just like a printed publication. I tell/ re-tell you all this because some people are ordering it and leaving comments like "I can't wait to listen to this!" etc. I can't wait to listen to it either - sadly we don't have the technology to make it happen!MORE FROM URBAN SCRAWL ANDY IN RM#94

RAW MART
Watch this space... This is the section of Raw Meat where you can advertise and announce your latest publications, web sites, blogs, bands etc. For further info contact Andy at: properjoes@aol.com
THE complete ZIGGY COLLECTION

on CD in Digital book format is now available!

For further info please contact Andy at : properjoes@aol.com

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!

Thanks for reading RAW MEAT..

May 2008 Issue 92

Nicola's Editorial

LAME EXCUSE
I’ll begin by apologising for the slightly late arrival of this month’s issue for which I won’t offer any lame excuses, though I could. I could easily use the fact of the beautiful weather as a valid excuse… or the sudden realisation on Andy’s part that we needed to buy our new van imminently, or I could even use the bank holiday as an excuse... though probably none of these will wash. So I’ll be quite honest and say I’m just badly organised and probably quite lazy!
CAMPING WEATHER
The sudden change in the weather has made Andy and I very excited about getting our van kitted out for going camping. At the moment we’re considering getting an awning to go on the side, which we should be able to sleep in. We have quite a few options to try and see which works best. I think we’ll make our first camping trip a local one… perhaps in the Peak District or somewhere like that before we try going to France, which we hope to do in the summer. Although the van is mint green, apparently Jack wants to paint it black… If he does I think he should leave a green zigzag on the side to make it distinctively ours!
THE ZIGGY COLLECTION ON CD
I’ll just remind you that this publication is now available to order on CD, complete with a beautiful cover courtesy of my dad. Not only this, but also an extra story with the intriguing title Second Sight… so I think it’s well worth getting despite the fact you might have an old paper version. The stories themselves roughly describe the ups and downs of my life so far… I think my favourite is Woolwich Meats, simply because it’s about the years I found the most enjoyable, in a way. I also have a great affection for The Burial… perhaps for similar reasons but also for the fact that it is partly fictional. Anyway, you should read the collection for yourself and make up your own mind!
TITUS CONCLUSION
We’re just coming to the end of the book we’ve been reading, Titus Alone by Mervyn Peake. It’s such a wonderful tale that I don’t want it to end – which is the definition of a good story I think. Although the story seems to be quite separate from the preceding two parts of the Gormenghast trilogy, it’s actually become more clearly linked with the castle and Titus’s life within its walls before he left. The way Mr Peake has done this is quite subtle… so that Gormenghast itself was hardly mention for the first half of Titus Alone but has become more distinct now that everything is drawing together for a final showdown. All the characters in this book are very memorable, especially Muzzlehatch and Juno and all the weird characters from the Under river… it’s a bizarre and surreal tale which I’d heartily recommend to anyone who wants a good read!
GINGER BAKER
I’ve recently been absolutely obsessed by Eric Clapton and Cream, playing the songs over and over again. Of course I greatly admire Eric’s guitar masterpieces but equally enjoy Ginger Baker’s drums. I’ve asked Jack several times to listen to some of Cream’s music and copy the drums but he’s not very keen! He says he needs more practice and is going to get some electronic drums, which can be quite silent if you plug in the headphones. The object is that he can practice by himself, without his band having to be there.
TOUCHING FROM A DISTANCE
Still on the subject of music, with my new helper Brigitte I’m reading something by Debbie Curtis, the wife of Ian, the lead singer of Joy Division. Once again I’m showing my age… this band was around in the early 80s and came to a sudden conclusion with Ian Curtis’s suicide. I was interested to find out about the singer’s tragic end although I’m not actually a big follower of Joy Division – actually I don’t much like their music, but my Mum’s a big fan of theirs and encouraged me to read the book. It’s difficult for me to criticise the book fairly as it’s not very well written – very disjointed and full of stops and starts – but this isn’t to say that it’s not worth reading. I don’t feel that it’s fair to pull the book apart from a writer’s point of view because Debbie probably isn’t a natural writer at all. So far the book seems to have left a rather intriguing blank space where it comes to Ian’s state of mind in the years preceding his suicide, which I find fascinating! He was epileptic and apparently the bright lights on stage while he was performing brought on the fits, which Ian found impossible to cope with. Perhaps Debbie doesn’t seem to say much about his state of mind because he never talked to her about it, but that’s a bit difficult to believe. I wouldn’t call the book an enjoyable or easy read by any means – in fact I think the best thing about it is its title, which is wonderful! I don’t doubt that the film of the same title is better, with the man’s music of course.
NEW ZEALAND
Yet another one of my friends has recently decided to emigrate to these islands and I’m filled with both envy and sadness at her departure. I’ve heard many tales of the incredible scenery there from my sister, Suzanne, who went there a few years ago. My aunt who lives in Australia has told me about how amazingly clean the sheep are in New Zealand, as opposed to the dirty sheep in Oz. But apart from the sheep, Suzanne described the ice-mountains to me on the southern island, she even went ice-climbing on them!
ANTARCTICA?
This frozen part of the island sounds surreal in the extreme, because it exists even though the sun shines brightly which makes me think of Scott’s exploits in the Antarctic, where his team had to strip down to their underclothes because they got so hot pushing the sledges!! I’d love to go to this part of New Zealand, because I think it’s the nearest piece of land to Antarctica… perhaps you can even glimpse the Antarctic wastes from there… ahhh… dream on!

RAW MATERIALS
RAW MATERIALS #92 Copyright (c) Nicola Batty 2008
The piece I’ve chosen for this issue of RAW MATERIALS is about a new family, a family who really lived, the Pissarro’s. Lucien and Esther Pissarro aren’t terribly well known, and that’s one of the reasons I’m using them in The Space Between – though I’ll readily admit to having doubts about doing so, simply because so little of interest seemed to happen in their lives! But I was drawn to Lucien because of his links with the anarchist movement, though I’m not actually sure how far his beliefs went. Which is nice in a way – it leaves it open to my own interpretation of facts… the facts being simply that Lucien was the son of Camile Pissarro, who was a more vociferous anarchist and a more famous artist. Lucien’s setting up of his press with his wife was also interesting, as it seemed to follow on from much of what Rickett’s and Shannon have already done in The Spark, so this ties the two books together. Also incidental is that Lucien and Ricketts knew each other quite well, and so that could be useful for The Space Between. I’m still not absolutely convinced what will happen in the novel… I’m hoping the ideas will come! I also like the idea of Esther being totally involved within the business, as a bookbinder and she also painted a few pictures herself, as did her daughter, the wonderfully named Orivido. I think this name is actually Spanish but I’ve got no idea why the Pissarro’s (who are French) would have chosen to give their daughter a Spanish name. It’s difficult to make such a name sound natural in conversation, when you’re writing it. I’m trying to tread carefully as far as Lucian’s anarchist beliefs are concerned; partly because he doesn’t really seem to have been very committed as far as anyone can tell. But it’s open to interpretation I suppose… who’s to say how far his beliefs actually went? Particularly as far as the Old House, that’s the house they’re moving into, was concerned. I’m going to use this house as a sort of base, in a way which may not have been entirely in keeping with history, but still, fiction should be involved equally.
As far as The Spark goes, we are still in the process of going right the way through it from beginning to end… which sounds a bit tedious but actually is not as bad as that, because it’s like reading a totally different book than the one I spent years labouring over! The plot actually moves along quite fast - perhaps too fast for it to be totally realistic. So far I think I that the major draw back is going to be that I tried to cram too much into it, and so it distracts from the main point of the novel - the loss of Wilde’s manuscript. The question is, should I get rid of everything not directly related to this? I am a bit nervous of chopping bits completely out without getting some other opinions… so I am going to ask some other people to read it first! Meanwhile I’m avoiding becoming to disheartened with The Spark by returning to writing odd bits of The Space Between and also a short story, which has nothing at all to do with Wilde or Victorian stuff, so it makes quite a nice change. This story is actually called Going Backwards and is a total work of fiction - I’m not sure exactly what type of story it is, a sort of psychological thriller I suppose. Very unlike my usual stuff… or maybe not, maybe it’s just something different from The Space Between. Although I definitely wouldn’t call Going Backwards autobiographical I suppose it is based very loosely on experience…as Wilde said, you can’t separate writing from the person who wrote it. And I think I would certainly go along with this!
MORE RAW MATERIALS IN RM#93

THE SPACE BETWEEN
The following is an extract from Nicola’s-work-in-progress-trilogy.

THE SPACE BETWEEN
Copyright © Nicola Batty 2008

It was a relief to stand there in the open back doorway and look out over the uneven expanse of grassland that ran down to the tiny brook. If Esther listened carefully she could just hear the soft tinkling of the water as it carried over the other distant background sounds of a Chiswick weekend. The high wall that surrounded the garden seemed to enclose and magnify the sound of the water, and for a moment everything seemed to be distinct and quite separate from life outside, as if this place was absorbed within itself. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the gentle spring air warm against her face. She began to feel more hopeful about the house – perhaps Lucian was right to be so optimistic about it. Gingerly she rested her shoulder against the decaying doorframe, hoping that it would not collapse beneath her weight.
Standing some distance away, down near the brook, was the slight figure of her eight year old daughter, simply watching the water flow along past her as if there were magic in its ceaseless motion. The child seemed to sense her mother’s eyes upon her and she turned, her brightly coloured skirts swinging round with her. Esther watched her approach, taking a deep breath, trying to smile… she didn’t want to pour cold water upon Orivido’s enthusiasm, which she could feel bubbling over even from this distance. The little girl’s wild wavy hair was pushed back from her face in a vain attempt to control it; its thickness was something she had inherited from her father, but the gentle smile upon her face was completely her mother’s. Esther found herself wearing the same expression as Orivido drew closer.
“Mama, the brook! We have a brook in our garden – did you know that?” Orivido stood beside her mother, clutching her mother’s hands in delight. “Papa never said there was a brook here. It’s our very own. This is our own special house – I can feel it, I know it. It’s every bit as beautiful as Papa said… don’t you think so?”
Esther took a step down from the back door into the small paved area, where there were several large earthenware pots that had, at some point, contained flowers but were now either empty or broken. Deliberately, Esther didn’t look at them but looked beyond, keeping her smile firmly in place, sharing in her daughter’s enthusiasm.
“If you feel the place is right… don’t worry, I’m thinking about it,” she promised, hugging the little girl briefly to her. She was suddenly aware of the fresh breeze, lifting strands of her straight black hair back from her face; she was glad to be released from the stifling mustiness that clung to the interior of the house. Taking in another great lungful of fresh air, she stepped over the back step and stood beside her daughter, taking care not to catch her shoulder on the broken wood of the back door. Once again she tried not to look at the door but to see beyond… beyond into the garden perhaps? She could feel a smile twitching around the corners of her mouth. With careless abandon, she pulled her cotton shawl from her shoulders and dropped it on one of the earthenware pots, for the spring sunshine was warm. “We should stay out in the garden, I think – it’s much nicer.” As she said the words she heard footsteps echoing across the empty back room, sounding distorted as they carried on outside. Esther glanced over at the doorway as Lucien approached, his great, slow strides seeming even more deliberate than usual; every footfall placed carefully to avoid the loose floorboards. He stood there and ran his hand over the doorframe; with his lean, sinewy figure and thick black beard he seemed to be a creature of opposites, both the artist and the practical workman. He looked up at Esther, smiling; the smile was almost lost beneath the black beard, but still, Esther knew it was there. She was well accustomed to her husband’s little ways.
MORE FROM NICOLA'S Work-in-progress-trilogy in RM#93

URBAN SCRAWL!
Welcome to Andy's bit..
CD WHAT?
Okay, and I'm sure I've said this before but to all those that don't know yet, Nicola's latest publication 'The Complete Ziggy Collection' is NOT an audio book! No, it is a digital book, you read it on your computer monitor or down/upload it to a special screen reader type device thingy that you can put in your pocket. It (The Complete Ziggy Collection) comes in a dvd case that you can keep on your book shelf just like a printed publication. I tell/ re-tell you all this because some people are ordering it and leaving comments like "I can't wait to listen to this!" etc. I can't wait to listen to it either - sadly we don't have the technology to make it happen!
MORE FROM URBAN SCRAWL ANDY IN RM#93

RAW MART
Watch this space...
This is the section of Raw Meat where you can advertise and announce your latest publications, web sites, blogs, bands etc. For further info contact Andy at: properjoes@aol.com
This section will be updated as soon as I get some copy... so please check back!

THE complete ZIGGY COLLECTION on CD in Digital book format is now available! For further info please contact Andy at : properjoes@aol.com

JACK'S
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Welcome to Jacks Page!

April 2008 Issue 91

Nicola's Editorial

APRIL FOOL
We’ll ignore the fact that it’s April the First – everything in this Newsletter is completely true!! It’s a totally new experience to me, writing RAW MEAT on April 1st, so early and yet Easter’s all over really. Jack’s still on holiday though, so I’m making the most of this quiet moment to do my stuff. At the moment Jack’s especially into playing his drums… which is great but it means I can’t do anything much!! I’m trying to teach Jack to learn to compromise and fit in with each other, a bit of give and take, though this is easier said than done when he’s itching to play and I want to do some reading. So what’s the answer? We should be able to reach a compromise between us without any hard and fast rules being laid down. Or that’s the hope… I need to test the theory.
LOOKS CAN KILL
Actually it’s a real shame to have to tell Jack to stop drumming and shut up, because I really like his band’s music. Occasionally they have a practice here, which is great in a way, though it also means that it’s extremely difficult to do anything else much except listen to the band. Jack has been practicing his drumming quite a lot and is noticeably better. He’s going to get a new symbol tomorrow and I’m reminded of my mum’s description of the drummer with The Australian Pink Floyd… apparently his drum kit was so immense that he was hardly noticeable, buried there in the middle.
THE AUSTRALIAN PINK FLOYD
I’m looking forward to going to see this band next week; as the venue is a smaller one from usual, hopefully the concert will be better – or at least as far as I’m concerned! That’s the trouble when the band gets really famous – I think you lose a lot of excitement with being so far away from the stage. It’s the same with theatre, and that’s why I like the Royal Exchange in Manchester, where the audience surrounds the stage and the actors are so close you can almost touch them.
THE ZIGGY COLLECTION ON CD – NOW AVAILABLE!
Major news for this issue is the official announcement that The Ziggy Collection is now available to order. Even though you might already have a printed edition I still think the CD version will interest you, as it’s quite different, having an additional story and a new introduction. It looks cool anyway, with the beautiful cover courtesy of my dad. I’m not exactly sure of the details about ordering it but apparently you have to click on something, I’m not quite sure what! Probably Andy will tell you more. The good thing about the CD version is that you can print off an odd story or two to read on the train or whatever – you don’t have to sit at the computer to read them if you don’t want. Also the price of the CD is just £2.99, which is much more reasonable. So order your copy now!
OTHER NOVELS ON CD?
I must admit to being more excited about the forthcoming appearance of some of my novels on CD, rather than The Ziggy Collection, which certainly has its moments but is not a spot on fiction, which I’ll always return to gladly. As I’ve just completed The Spark, I’m wondering about the possibility of publishing it on CD but I don’t know if this would be wise, considering it’s just the first draft and needs a lot of changes. Perhaps I’d be better to choose something like Killing Time, which is nearer being ready for publication.
TITUS ALONE
We’ve just begun reading the final part of The Gormenghast trilogy. Which might sound a totally weird thing to do, but I can remember the first two books pretty well. However I couldn’t remember Titus Alone at all and so I’m reading it with Ruth. It’s like reading a totally new book in some ways, because I only remember bits of it… and also it’s so weird, reminding me of De Quincey’s opium dreams. It’s full of strange characters like Muzzlehatch, who keeps a menagerie of caged beasts in the grounds of his house and drives his car lying down, if you can imagine that! Titus considers himself to be a traitor to the castle of Gormenghast even though he’s not really broken free and left it completely… it’s still there with him all the time, colouring all his memories and his attitude, rather like religion maybe.
HARRY POTTER COMPLETION
Now that I’ve actually finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I feel in a better position to give you my opinion! I would still say that much of the book was too complicated and involved so that you’re distracted from the main conflict between Harry and Voldemort. The ending of the book seemed quite sudden in a way because it returned to this final show down, which was by far the most effective part of the book and only highlighted the fact that the complicated stories interweaving were unnecessary. If I’m having headaches sorting out the various threads with The Space Between, I feel very sympathetic towards Ms Rowling and don’t like to criticise because I know how much work she must have put into it! But at the same time I don’t think The Deathly Hallows was the best in the series by any means… I really liked The Goblet of Fire and also The Half-blood Prince… because these books I think were slightly less complicated and so more effective and dramatic. That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy the last Harry Potter book – it was well worth reading.
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
I met up recently with an old friend from South Trafford College who I haven’t seen for about 25 years. If you want to know more about this period in my life, you should read Wheelspin in The Ziggy Collection. As a rule I don’t like the thought of meeting up with very old friends simply because of obvious physical changes which must be totally confusing for them. I know this is stupid really, but still… so I was very nervous about meeting Paddy after all this time. Though there was no need to be so – he was perfectly cool and friendly, telling me all about his band Homelife. I found it really difficult to remember exactly what he looked like… but anyway, he has a beard now!
THE SPACE BETWEEN
Not my book, but rather Andy’s description of this kind of period – a time when nothing seems to be happening. Such is the space I’ve fallen into of late… a bit of a quagmire from which I’m having difficulty escaping. Whether this is due to the long winter depression and lack of light, I don’t know, but my enthusiasm for life seems to be at an all time low. Don’t suggest to me that I need a holiday… I’m quite aware of it. Even my writing doesn’t offer me any escape from these doldrums. It all seems to be leading nowhere. I’ll stop this right here, I think… it’s gone far enough!! I’m afraid I can’t think of anything more positive to say… so I’ll shut up and close this issue now. Hopefully the spring will bring me more positive vibes!!!

RAW MATERIALS 91
copyright Nicola Batty (c) 2008
It came as a bit of a shock to me to consider finishing The Spark sooner than I’d originally intended – but all things seemed to point towards a conclusion at the end of 1900, before the century turned. I’d actually already written the first part of the next chapter and was quite worried about it; in fact so much so that I asked Andy to read it, which is pretty much unheard of!! He said it was fine, BUT suggested that I start the next novel with it, rather than sticking it at the end of The Spark. I agreed to this drastic action pretty quickly as I was very worried that the new piece didn’t fit in at all… I wasn’t happy about introducing a new character at this late stage of the book, and also the piece was set in a new place, so it seemed like a natural break. Along with the other things that had been mentioned in chapter 10 – an awful lot of discussion involving major themes of The Spark, such as time etc – It all seemed to come together in a natural conclusion. There are several threads still hanging loose, though this may not be such a bad thing with the story going on into the next book.
I had originally intended to finish the book a few years later in 1904 as that was when the Vale Press actually folded and when Freddie met Ross. It seemed these dramatic events were things that I was working towards… and to suddenly end the book early seemed unthinkable at first, like it wouldn’t work. I’m still not quite sure about it though it seems a logical step in many ways, not least because Wilde himself has become central to The Spark without actually appearing! That takes quite some doing, I know, but there you are… he’s carried it off very nicely. Anyway, to end it with his death is quite natural… and it also makes The Spark span roughly a ten year period and ten chapters – it all seems to hang together ok.
I’m still not completely happy about Rickett’s story with the Vale Press not reaching any conclusion… the historical facts don’t seem to make good fiction at all in a way, but just has him struggling on for a few more years after the fire. I’m slightly worried about making the Vale Press actually reach its own conclusion in the next book because I think that a lot of the dramatic quality of Rickett’s actions would be lost or greatly lessened if you haven’t read The Spark, but then again, what’s the point of reading just one book of a trilogy? I had originally hoped to make each book to ‘stand alone’ but now I don’t think that’s really feasible if you’re writing a trilogy.
Another concern was with the Freddie/Jack thread, which I was hoping to bring to a dramatic breaking point before the end of this novel, but the way things were working with the boys, and particularly Jack, meant that there could still be a few more years spent in London. All my intentions of taking Wilde’s manuscript over to France haven’t worked out as I planned either and I can blame this mainly on Gustave, my new French character, who has actually stolen it and taken it back to London. I didn’t plan this, he’s acted against my carefully laid plans! But beside that I couldn’t think of anything to do with the manuscript in France; I was too nervous to get involved too much with politics and setting it in the left wing commune in the Jura mountains, which I was considering. I remain unconvinced about keeping the manuscript in London itself – I thought a change of scene was necessary but the beauty of keeping the next book in London, or at least Britain, is that some of the same characters could be used. I’m not quite sure about this at the moment though.
So then, though The Spark may be finished, that’s not the end of it at all – the next book, which will be called The Space Between, is already underway – just about! Because it’s quite an arduous task to go over old stuff in The Spark, making alterations etc, I’m going to intersperse this with writing the new book, for which I’ve already got several ideas for new characters I’m going to bring in. Also there are quite a few old threads that need tying up before I forget, so work needs to be on going. I think that I’ve learned this about writing a trilogy; it’s quite different to a novel, which you can just leave when you come to the end, not so a trilogy. In fact, you have to keep going or else you’ll lose all the gist and natural progression of the different stories. So it’s a quite different kettle of fish to writing just a novel – but at the same time there are similarities, for instance having to go back over the whole thing once it’s complete; it’s only when the novel has been completed that you can see the shape of it as a whole thing and then it becomes clear which pieces have worked and which pieces haven’t, which characters are important etc etc. Although I thought very briefly of bringing RAW MATERIALS to a close, along with The Spark, I think this would be pretty stupid to tell the truth, after all that I’ve just said about working on the trilogy. It’s an on going process of both creation and hard work I suppose. At this stage I can’t feel like celebrating, much less sending The Spark off anywhere. That’s all to come.

THE SPARK
copyright Nicola Batty (c) 2008
Please note that The Spark is a first draft and may well be very different to the final published version.

THE STORY SO FAR…
The year 1900 is coming to an end. Ross is with Wilde in Paris; Wilde is dying and as far as we know still has the manuscript in his possession. Back in London, Harriet is still working at Ross’s house as a maid.

CHAPTER 10 – 1900.

Although each December day slipped past effortlessly and was lost beneath the door between the centuries, still Mr. Ross had not returned and Harriet knew without hesitation that Mr. Wilde was dead. She went about her duties in a daze, feeling only the emptiness that yawned all around her, sucking her into it… and she was glad. She watched Mrs Ross pack her cases and leave to join her son in France, without saying a word to Harriet about it. Perhaps Mrs Ross realised that Harriet already knew the situation. Not only was Mr Wilde dead but the century was dying too… it writhed and squirmed on the breach, a dying fish out of water, gasping for breath, for life.
Christmas came and went, a dismal affair that year with only the servants present in the house. Although Mr Jameson carved the small turkey for them and handed round the plates with a forced smile, the general air of anxiety crushed them all down so that they were relieved when all the celebrations were over. Harriet helped to clear away the dishes after the meal, feeling only a great sense of relief. As she opened the backdoor to empty a bucket outside and the iciness of the air stung her face, just as it had all those years before on the back steps at Whitechapel. She stood there in the small garden and turned her face up to the cold wind, smiling as she felt it slicing across her skin… remembering that murderous edge of the blade, that name that lived on. How her life had changed since those Whitechapel days! There was Jack… and there was Emma… and of course there was Charles. Harriet’s smile became frozen as if she were made of ice or alabaster. She shivered as she felt the gentle touch of his red beard against her throat, shivered in sudden anticipation, hoping there was more… and yet knowing there was nothing more. With a heavy sigh, Harriet forced herself to turn back towards the house and leave these thoughts far behind, once and for all.
Later that evening, Harriet took the last remaining candle stump and climbed the back stairs wearily to her room. She opened the door quietly; Jack had already gone to bed several hours before and she did not want to wake him, especially not now, not in these days… for now they had entered the space between without effort and she didn’t want to disturb his sleep. She sat down very carefully on the edge of the bed and looked at his huddled shape between the centuries. Perhaps he would never be disturbed by such thoughts. She wanted to reach out and stroke his hair but didn’t dare to do so… the colour of his hair still held a reddish tinge, almost an after glow… memories of his father would never fade it seemed. Were those days all passed now? Were they truly gone, vanished beneath the door? Gone forever... in the same way as Mr Wilde? Harriet sighed slowly, and the sigh sounded like it should have been simply a breath. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she realised that now she stood hovering on the edge of the space between… about to step into the new century, and to leave the old behind. Leaning forward, Harriet pulled the candle towards her that she had put down on the chair, and blew it out. The sudden darkness came as nothing but a relief.
More from Nicola's work-in-progress-trilogy in RM#92

URBAN SCRAWL!
Welcome to Andy's bit...

APRIL WHAT?
I woke up on April the first with a stinking cold, don't you just hate colds? I do, but I'm told that they are a necessary evil - better out than in - perhaps. Anyway, the knock-on effect of having this cold has meant that some of my blogging deadlines have been missed and others misplaced. Misplaced? Who's that, then? How? I can feel the questioning across the blogisphere. Well the misplaced item refers to my posting on Space Invaders! my-work-in-progress-novel. I posted the latest segment of Chapter Two, but when I came to read it it had disappeared, off into the realms of cyberspace, all I was left with was the title. So, I'll have to re-write it and try the post again!
CD BOOK
Okay, down to Newsletter business. As regular readers of Raw Meat will know, Nicola has a number of autobiographical short stories which she published some time ago in three or four slim volumes. The title being The Ziggy Collection which you can read about on her website http://www.nicolabatty.co.uk/ Well since then, things have moved on and we've moved away from paper publications into the digital age and now, therefore, we have a CD Book to offer, which in actuality is The Ziggy Collection re-vamped and re-titled The complete Ziggy Collection. It also has an extra story and a brand new introduction and a .... well you'll just have to read it to find out. Anyhow, you can scroll down to the Raw Mart section of this Newsletter to find out how to order it. Oh yeah, and for those of you who don't know, Ziggy is the name of Nicola's wheelchair!
SIMPLE STUFF
What we/I'm trying to do is to un-complicate stuff, to make stuff simple... whatever happened to the simple life? Things are so complicated these days that people only laugh when you mention the simple life. It doesn't exist, they tell me... and carry on burying their head in the sand. Well, they may be right, 'cos to be truthful my quest for this 'holy grail' of simplicity, continually ends with me banging my proverbial head against the proverbial brick wall. However, as far as the digital age goes, there is light at the end of the tunnel.
REINTRODUCED
This Newsletter started life way back at the end of last century as a paper publication and we've been publishing it warts an' all every month since then apart from a period (while Nic was doing her MA at Manchester University) when Raw Meat became a bi-monthly for a bit. I'm only telling you this because we/I want to reintroduce one of the old features from our paper publication days to the digital age. The thing I want to reintroduce is the Raw Mart section where anybody, and that includes you, can advertise or announce their latest publications, web sites, blogs, book readings, poetry nights, concerts etc.
More from Urban Scrawl Andy in RM#92

RAW MART
Watch this space...
This is the section of Raw Meat where you can advertise and announce your latest publications, web sites, blogs, bands etc.
For further info contact me at: properjoes@aol.com
This section will be updated as soon as I get some copy... so please check back!

March 2008 Issue 90

Nicola's Editorial

POSITIVE VIBES
I don’t know if it’s just that spring is on its way at last, but there is definitely a more positive feeling to the air at the moment! I’m glad to see the back of winter - it’s brought us nothing but bad news and stress this year. Of course I’m talking about Andy’s brain growth, which was discovered recently and looked as if it would have to be removed by surgery soon. However, Andy’s brain seems to be really clever in this case and sorted the problem out for itself! The growth is completely harmless, but it was pushing against and blocking a vein, which was needed to drain away the fluid surrounding the brain.
NEW VEIN!
So the brain has found another vein to use instead, which has taken over the job from the old one. It’s really a case of Nature solving problems in its own way with no help from surgeons or doctors or anyone. Andy says that nine out of ten people who have these types of growth live all their lives without even being aware of them. So that’s a much-needed piece of positive news!! It also means that he can stop taking the medication which is really good news, because I think this was causing more problems with Andy psychologically. I am a great believer in allowing nature room for manoeuvre!
POWER OF PRAYER??
While Andy’s incredibly happy at the moment (not surprisingly), he seems to think that his “miracle” has come about as a result of Christians praying for him… which I think sounds a bit dodgy! “Why should it just be Christian prayer that has power?” I demanded of Andy, who I suspect is something of a Closet Catholic. “There have been Buddhists chanting for you, and also people without religion thinking of you… why can’t they all combine to create a positive force which can change things?” Whatever the reason, it supports my belief in how much the mind and body are tied together - inseparable in fact.
"WATER WEDDING"
While I remain unconvinced about Christianity; I want to make the most of Andy’s good humour by making some more positive changes in both of our lives… the first step would be to get married! As long as it’s not in a church, I said. My suggestion was of a “water wedding” which would take place in the sea somewhere warm such as California or even Tahiti. All the guests would have to wear white swimming costumes and throw water instead of confetti. Of course there would be a wedding fishcake… and maybe some under water photographs.
APRIL’S CD
One of the good things about Andy’s brain news is that he’s now more open to begin work on advertising the Ziggy collection, which is due out on April the 1st. So hopefully there should appear on my website an advertisement for my CD version within the next month. I am unsure whether or not to add an update to the introduction about the new story called Second Sight. Perhaps I should allow the story to speak for its self.
JACK’S PROMISED PAGE
I’m not the only one who has been busy on the computer recently - Jacks been beavering away on his latest short story which is something of a science fiction work. He says it should be ready for the next issue - so look out for it on Jack’s Page.
THEATRE OF CRUELTY
Another positive change, which has come about recently, is my changed outlook on theatre, which I’ve been having great trouble with. I used to have a great love for the theatre, but found it impossible to follow without sight… and also I have the extra problem of making out the characters words! Every time I watched a performance I feel so depressed afterwards… thinking of everything about it that I missed completely in the way of costumes, visual effects ect.
METAMORPHOSIS
But the last couple of times I’ve been to the theatre have been quite different… I’m not sure exactly why, if this is just due to a change in attitude. I went to see Kafka’s Metamorphosis recently and got so much more out of the performance! I knew the story vaguely and could follow it by the sounds of the actor’s feet on the walls of the set, so I could visualise the man/ beetle climbing up the walls! While I still think that its necessary to know the play quite well before I see it, my confidence has grown so that I’m looking forward to going to the theatre again soon. I am greatly relieved that I’m not going to have to give up enjoying the theatre… especially as my imagination is still so strong and visual; it almost makes the visual elements of the stage unnecessary.
RADIO SKIN
Still on the subject of theatre, my sister Suzanne has been working on writing her own play Blue Place. I can sympathise with her; I myself found it very difficult to confine myself within the limits of the stage. I still have ideas of rewriting Skin as a radio play… which may at first seem absolutely impossible, simply because the strength of my short TV script lies in its visual impact. Still, losing my physical sight has taught me that all is not lost! So much imagination can be communicated through music, sound effects and just words. I want to begin work on radio skin as soon as The Spark is finished… which will not be too long.
FREAKY EXHIBITION
Another show I saw recently with Brigitte and Jack was slightly different - an exhibition of dead bodies, Andy called it. I myself was extremely dubious about such a thing… it sounded suspiciously tasteless and macabre, to have a lot of people paying money to grope at dead bodies! I couldn't’t get the idea of Victorian freak shows out of my head… nevertheless we went to