Sideshow Stories: a Review

In this modern era of 24 hour, face-pressed-up-against-a-screen living, it is as inevitable as it is hypocritical that we often find ourselves yearning for integrity, wholesomeness, and "down-to-earth" values. And as the approach of popular media becomes ever more patronizing and simple-minded, those precious nuggets of originality and intelligence seem harder to sift out.
It is therefore with great admiration and appreciation that I write this review of Sideshow Stories, a new exhibition at The Social on Little Portland Street.

Combining the art of painter Jason Butler, and the words of poet Will Burns, Sideshow Stories is an appraisal of a time largely before modern "political correctness", when Britain's show-business industry was capitalising on a popular curiosity for the alien and the exotic, the freaks and weirdos of society. As odd and unique as the characters it details, this exhibition is a sight for bored eyes.

Hillbilly Heaven: Mike Nelson's Coral Reef

From The Cosmic Legend
of the Uroboros Serpent, 2001

Today I saw a downright spooky art installation at Tate Britain; I understand that it's been in existence for a while (since 2000), but it may be worth a mention anyhow. The work in question is Mike Nelson's 'The Coral Reef', which won the artist a Turner prize nomination in 2001.

Now, I'm not generally a fan of this kind of thing, but I quite enjoyed wandering around this labyrinth of stinky cramped corridors and crusty doors; for those who haven't seen it, it's sort of like being in a movie - 'No Country for Old Men' perhaps, or the remake of 'The Hills Have Eyes'. You go through the first door, thinking that you've accidentally walked into a fire exit - and you find a strange little smelly room with a 1960s tv, bar stools and old, mangy magazines. Basically you continue in this way, finding in each room something that will give you the heebie jeebies: a grubby clown mask or stained sleeping bag. My favourite was a Mexian-themed parlour, equipped with an image of sombrero-wearing men and a large cactus.

The Casual Etymologist: Word of the Week

The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah
by John Martin, 1852

Firstly, my humble apologies, oh faithful reader. You have, I'm sure been wracking your poor old brain to try and figure out why this week has been different. You've probably passed the nights murmuring gibberish to yourself in a cupboard, thrown some expensive electronic equipment into a river or off a motorway overpass, or started hanging out in an Aldi car park in the rain waiting for some sort of sign. For all this I am deeply sorry, and I shall not perpetuate your mental torment a moment longer. I missed Word of the Week last week, and it shan't happen again.

So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce to you this week's etymological selection. Drawn from the bright and bubbling vein of the fantastic Libarius glossary of middle English, this week's Word of the Week is:

Brymstoon, noun sulphur

R F Langley: Beyond the Indigo Gate

The Blue Gate by David Johnson

R F Langley, an English poet, passed away in January this year. During his life he had two collections of poems published. The first, Collected Poems, was nominated for the Whitbread Prize for poetry in 2000. The second, The Face of It, has been described as "one of the classics of early 21st century English poetry". Never heard of him? I hadn't either until last week, when I was asked to write a review of an audio CD of his readings for the Poetry Book Society. In doing so I discovered some of the most exciting, complex and profoundly beautiful poetry I have read. Because none of his work is available to read online, I have transcribed one of my favourite poems, Achilles, for you to have a look at, which I highly recommend you do. You can find the poem, along with the full review of his work below.

'Secrets' commission for Storehouse Magazine, 2010, issue 3