Death Is Without Scruples

I was reminded this morning of the early death of Anthony Minghella.

That he died so young, at the age of just 54, is one of many tragic early deaths.

The reminder this morning was my receipt of the latest brochure advertising the forthcoming season at English National Opera.

Just a few weeks before his sudden death, I saw his production of Madame Butterfly when it was first staged at English National Opera, which must have been in 2006.

This was not the last opera I was to see at ENO, last year (2012) I saw a matinee performance of The Magic Flute.

The journey has become quite difficult for me as I have become increasingly disabled, although perhaps I should be grateful that death has not become a shadow on my horizon.

It is a fortunate fact that multiple sclerosis does not necessarily mean a shortening of lifespan, although it certainly does mean a change to what is possible.

Anthony Minghella first came to my attention when I heard an early radio play, entitled Cigarettes And Chocolate.

I still remember this, many years after I first heard it, and although I believe it has been repeated on the radio (Radio 3) I cannot remember when I first heard it, nor when it was repeated.

Like his films and indeed his opera, his work has been memorable in so many ways.

Films such as Truly Madly Deeply, and The English Patient.

I believe he was also responsible for the screenplay adaptation of The Talented Mr Ripley, and for directing the television film version of the No1 one Ladies Detective Agency, broadcast by the BBC shortly after his untimely death.

I am always moved to remember people whose lives I feel have in some small way been entwined in my own, although in truth with Anthony Minghella the connection is slight and vague.

My friend Richard is on the music staff at ENO, and he was the pianist for rehearsals that led to casting for the original production.

Also, the writer of the original No1 Ladies Detective Agency story, Alexander McCall Smith, is someone with whom I have worked when I worked in Edinburgh for the Scottish Chamber Orchestra.

As the orchestras’ Development Director, I arranged for players from the orchestra to work alongside the music ensemble that the author was then involved with, as a parent who had begun to play an instrument many years after first having been taught when at school.

The ensemble was called the Really Terrible Orchestra, the RTO, and gave much fun to the children and their friends of those adults that played in it.

It was long before Alexander McCall Smith became a successful writer, and was able to give up his day job as the Prof of Medical Ethics at Edinburgh University.

I felt very privileged to have been involved with such highly skilled musicians whom I could provide opportunities for community engagement with, and I understand that after I had left the orchestra, Alexander McCall Smith has been invited to be the narrator of Peter And The Wolf.

It is a selfish pursuit, to observe the lives and deaths of those that when I was physically active I had some cause to cross paths with.

But it is one of the ways in which I console myself that I have lived a life beyond the world in which I now live.

My life is by no means over, and for that I am grateful.

Indeed, the limitations to my present life have perhaps sharpened my appetite for experiences that remind me of the sweetness of life, as opposed to the bitterness that could so easily be the choice of what tastes I still have.

What An Extraordinary Imagination

I have a collection of over 500 films, recorded using a digital hard drive recorder.

I used to keep my collection of films on DVD, but more recently, I have discovered that I can copy films recorded from broadcast onto a large external hard drive on my computer, thus saving me the space that so many DVDs take up. And indeed the cost of so many recordable DVDs.

Just recently, I have recorded a broadcast version of Minority Report.

This is an interesting vision of the future, and perhaps what is most interesting about it is that it was based on a short story by the American writer, Philip K Dick.

Other film fans may well recognise the name, for this writer has been behind some of the most iconic films of the last 20 years.

Although long dead,  Philip K Dick was also the writer behind Blade Runner, which many people may recognize this  as one of the most important films about the future, and a fairly  early film for Harrison Ford.

In Minority Report, the future imagined is one in which murder can be predicted by a number of extraordinary individuals, called Pre-Cognitives.

Blade Runner is of course about a future in which powerful humans are cloned for the kind of dangerous work that it would not be possible for straightforward humans to undertake, and a Blade Runner is somebody whose job is to ensure that these extraordinary human creatures do not ever come to Earth.

Their elimination is described as “Retirement”, and Harrison Ford is one such policeman.

It is quite amazing that so many incredible stories came from the imagination of one American writer, but they did.

I suspect there may be other stories that I have yet to discover have their origins in this man’s imagination, and it is truly astonishing that one person. Being able to have such insight into the possible future.

Of course, Philip K Dick is not alone in possessing this skill of imagining an extraordinary future.

I suppose what is interesting is that his work should have become translated as it has to the world of modern cinema, in which so much more is achievable by virtue of computer generated images.

CGI is in itself a quite spectacular means of making tangible what can only be imagined, and films can be made today that it would have been impossible to contemplate making at any other time in the history of cinema.

Perhaps as a consequence of this blog article, I shall research the work of Philip K Dick a little more carefully, just to see if there are other stories of his that I ought to know about.

Life Planning

I have been plagued recently by unsolicited telephone calls.

Mostly sales calls, trying to sell me something that I do not need, particularly as I am severely disabled.

In some respects, this is one of those infringements of personal space that are so much a reflection of the freedom that we are so proud of.

But on the other, they are simply an example of companies trying to make sales in difficult circumstances.

I feel for the poor salesman that no doubt often work on commission, that are given "leads" to follow, and their monthly pay cheque will be a reflection of their capacity to obtain sales, or to at least gain the opportunity for a sales person specially trained to obtain access for a face-to-face meeting.

Which no doubt will result in the unsuspecting householder buying something they do not need, perhaps because of the way in which the salesperson has been so thoroughly trained.

I almost fell prey to this myself recently, when somebody was trying to arrange for somebody to call concerning life planning.

On the surface, this seems to make perfect sense. In effect, to pay for one's funeral at today's prices, through an insurance policy that will preserve whatever estate one has for the benefit of one's family.

The carrot in this case, was assistance in completing one's will.

It just so happens that I am considering updating my will, and I almost fell prey to the notion of having someone visit to explain the benefits of this to me.

Having read the leaflet I subsequently obtained, I realised quite quickly that although it was difficult to find logical Fault with what was proposed, this was not something that I need worry myself with especially given my limited income.

It is a simple truth that when I am dead, the last thing that I should be concerned with is the cost of my funeral.

And so I have cancelled this potential meeting, but nevertheless, I have been made to think about this notion of life planning. Meaning, what after my death.

Now the only significant aspect of positive thinking that can be derived from considering this issue is that notion of the bucket list. What do I wish to achieve before I kick the bucket.

Quite simply, all of us could profit enormously from a greater focus on making good use of the time we have.

We have a saying in English, and possibly it will translate to most other languages, that they are only two certainties. Death and taxes.

My days of considering those things that I might wish to achieve that involve travel or spending money are long gone, and in some respects I do not - I cannot - afford to regret this fact.

But I can and I am acting on my deep held ambitions to leave something of my self to those that outlive me.

For anyone that has my blog over the last year or so, she will be aware that I have published two volumes of poetry, and though I still write, using voice activated software, I have recently decided that it is prose and not poetry for which I wish to be remembered.

I wrote my first novel when I was around 30, and I have never sent it to anyone for appraisal in any way.

But recently, at the age of 52, I have dusted it off, and read it over, and decided that it is after all not that bad. For a first try.

And so I have shown it to one of my carers, who is an avid reader, and she has agreed with me. That with careful editing, it will make something worthwhile.

And since the world of publishing has changed so much in the last 10 years, there is not the same stigma associated with self publishing.

And so for the last three months or so I have been working doggedly on my second novel, sacred places. The first four chapters of which I published in my collection of short stories a couple of years ago.

And I have already written a detailed synopsis of a third novel, which I will not look at again until I have completed the second.

And so, every day I write 500 words, which using voice-activated software does not take too long.

And as I have become accustomed to using this assistive technology, I can claim that it allows my prose to follow the natural rhythms of speech, which is no bad thing.

And so, I am working hard to complete this challenge to myself. Can I write these other two novels, in such a way as to be readable and of interest to the general public?

The simple truth is, no one will know unless I complete my task.

It is perhaps unusual for a writer to turn to prose after poetry, perhaps the example I immediately think of is of the novelist that wrote far from the madding crowd, Thomas Hardy. Who in his later life, wrote beautiful poetry which is often sought more highly of that his novels.

But for me, the choice is made. I wish to be remembered as a novelist, not as a poet.

Only history will speak for truth.