COMMON WORDS & THE WANDERING STAR
A biographical study of culture and social change in
the life and work of writer Jack Common (1903-1968).
By Keith Armstrong
ISBN 978 1 906832 025
University Of Sunderland.
A son of the north-east himself, Keith Armstrong approaches his subject with as much affection as rigour which gives his book that sense of enthusiasm which always invests reading with an added dimension. Much more than a straight biography this is an exploration of Common’s roots, the influence of his milieu on his writing, the difficulties which writers of his class and time faced, the ingrained prejudices of the literary establishment, the interplay between creative writing and political theory, not to mention literary style and structure and the perennial problem of inclusion and exclusion in the face of an established canon. Armstrong has done his homework: the research behind this book is as thorough as you could wish and one of its delights is the extensive use of quotations from, themselves, fascinating sources. Common suffered the usual fate of gifted children from poor backgrounds: bored at school, his talents more or less overlooked, essentially an autodidact, he found entry into the literary world all but impossible and once he was published, earned next to nothing in spite of critical praise. There are exceptions of course. Lawrence got a relatively early start, scoffed at the idea he’d ever starved in a garret and though he earned little in his first decade and ran into trouble once his books strayed beyond the bounds of standard taste, after Sons And Lovers was accepted as a major writer and knew his place in posterity was secure. Lawrence was a proletarian writer in both senses: he came from the working-class and he wrote about it. Class, however, wasn’t his self-conscious theme. Common, like other writers from his class and era, was a politically conscious writer. There is one question at the heart of all his writing: can socialism displace capitalism ? Everything else is treated in the light of this question, or at least, that’s the impression this book leaves. Like Marx, Common admires capitalism’s productivity, its breathtaking development of technology, its stunning command of nature. Every socialist, he asserts, must share this admiration. He accepts the view that capitalism, the system that trammels him and against which he kicks, is a necessary phase of historical development. My own view is that capitalism is a mistake. The evidence for inevitability doesn’t seen convincing. Was the evolution of humanity inevitable ? Perhaps a Darwinian will correct me, but as I understand it there’s an element of contingency in evolution. Environmental pressure in conjunction with random mutation drives the process but a curious feature of determinism is its capacity to throw up contingency. Nothing in nature is accidental, but accident is not the same as the contingent. It seems to be precisely the Goldilocks phenomenon- that the universe is founded on perfect relationships – which gives rise to significant contingency. Certainly, when we leave behind the world of Physics and consider history, the complexity of the relations involved, from neurons and synapses to the subtle ways social and cultural forms emerge and develop, there are too many possibilities for a strict determinism to eliminate contingency. If capitalism isn’t an inevitable stage of development, then it deserves to be condemned without reservation for its injustice, for precisely those assaults on individual dignity and freedom which are Common’s accusation. Curiously, both orthodox Marxists and neo-liberals argue the inevitability of capitalism. Lawrence, who believed no such thing, was able to infuse his work with a sense of alienation, even disgust, which works much more powerfully than explicit ideology. Inheriting from Ruskin and Thoreau deep scepticism about industrialism, Lawrence attacked the mechanistic nature of modern civilization; the whole tenor of modern life was his target, but in his best creative work he offered no solutions. The essays where he descends to theory are confused and feeble. Literature, as the cliché has it, is much more about questions than answers, about evoking sensibility rather than setting the world to rights. The problem for a writer like Common is that his self-conscious socialism – a solution – intrudes on depiction. As Marx said, one Balzac is worth a hundred Zolas. Balzac, a conservative royalist, fulfilled his self-defined function as “the secretary of French society”, or so Marx judged. Precisely what gives Marx reservations about Zola, is his adherence to a socialistic ideology. Then we must ask, if capitalism is a necessity and if its achievements must be lauded, why not make the best of its meritocratic phase ? To a degree, of course, Common did exactly that: he left his native Tyneside, was published in and worked for The Adelphi, corresponded with Orwell and Middleton Murry; in short, escaped the topography and mentality of working-class life. This, of course, is all and exactly that has been on offer politically as an alternative to conservatism: a way out, a way up, an escape to betterment for a few. The British mass party of the working-class has never seriously embraced the notion of root and branch, democratic reform of our economic and social arrangements. Get out if you can and there’s a safety net for those left behind, is the message. This, of course, makes the position of the working-class intellectual or creative artist impossible: either you renounce your working-class sensibility, or you’re doomed. Lawrence, who never answered to any name but Bert, called himself D.H. to fit in with the middle-class assumptions of the literary world. Common wanted to be a writer yet remain working-class, an impossible aspiration and, incidentally, just the contrary of Orwell who found being a writer relatively easy ( when you’ve been to Eton you’ll always find some editor who’ll publish you because of your pedigree) and who tried to discover what it means to be working-class, but could only ever see the life he didn’t know through the window of a train. The contradiction at the heart of Common is that he accepts capitalism as inevitable and progressive, yet wants to devote his energy and talent to exposing its darkness. Why should capitalism reward and celebrate its enemies ? Well, because literary value should be seen for what it is. But this, of course, is naïve; it’s to presume the rich put truth before money. And not only the rich but also those with just that little bit more which allows them to cultivate fantasies of superiority and election. The choice is atrociously hard: stick to your oppositional guns and accept failure and denial or accept that the price of success is compromise. Common’s work is full of the bitterness of recognizing this trap and what he managed was a little bit of recognition and reward but dismissal to the periphery where he rests as a curiosity ignored by the influential.
Common’s status as a creative writer rests on two novels: Kiddar’s Luck and The Ampersand. The contrast between the titles is intriguing: his working-class would have recognised the former at once, but the latter would have sent them for the dictionary. It even has a bit of Latin tucked into it, the preserve of Grammar School boys and girls. It’s the kind of title the literary world likes, while the former speaks too redolently of cobblestones, street corners and chutzpah. There are enough quotations from the novels here to see Common is a writer of high gifts, and as some of the critics quoted point out, his work is full of humour, gaiety, joyousness in the midst of grim conditions. He never pleads for pity and his implied narrator has a Figaro-like wiliness in the face of the manipulations of his “betters”. From a purely literary point of view, there’s no doubt Common wrote two novels which should be classics. He is every bit as good a writer as H.E. Bates, Alan Sillitoe, Margaret Drabble and her sister, Penelope Lively, Beryl Bainbridge, Julian Barnes, Martin Amis, Anthony Burgess and a better one than Hilary Mantel. Why then aren’t his novels in print ? Why don’t you find them readily in Oxfam bookshops ? We all know the answer. It’s all very well for Proust to document in minute detail the sensibility of the upper reaches of French society but there’s something distasteful about doing the same for the inhabitants of an industrial town in the north which does the dirty work on which the stockbroker belt depends. Denial is a fundamental operation of the human mind as stroke patients with right parietal damage, paralysed on the left ( just like Britain itself) who blithely reject all suggestions of their disability, amply demonstrate. All cultures operate denial. In the capitalism Common saw as unavoidable, the essential denial has to be that profit is made at the cost of crippling millions of lives, physically, morally, emotionally, intellectually, creatively. How much of our literature deals with work ? Most of us devote the best hours of the best years of our lives to it, yet it’s deemed unworthy of the writer’s attention. For capitalism to maintain itself, it must magic away the connection between labour and money. Entrepreneurs and financiers produce wealth, the rest of us are supernumary. Then there’s readership. A great effort has been made ever since the masses got education, to feed them superficial cultural pap, while simultaneously preserving higher culture for a middle-class largely southern in attitude if not location. Wolf Hall is exactly what the latter like : remote from contemporary life, unchallenging and, apparently, a little edifying. The systematic destruction of a substantial readership for writers like Common leaves him to be appreciated by a thinning number of aficianados. This book itself is testimony: it’s unlikely to get a notice in the LRB or the Literary Review or to be on the shelves of every Waterstones in the land.
Keith Armstrong hasn’t done himself any favours as far as literary advancement goes: he could have written a biography of Kingsley Amis or a study of Larkin; but he’s produced an excellent and fascinating book which grants to Common his significance and rescues him from obscurity. Many writers contribute to the literary life of any epoch and, as Carey Nelson’s Repression and Recovery shows, most of them get forgotten as a standard view of a period is imposed in the universities. The majority of contributors aren’t great talents, though at their best they may produce some work which matches that of the geniuses, but Common is much more than a marginal addition; Armstrong’s original approach, which makes this broader and better than a standard biography, reveals Common as the literary equal of Orwell in his discursive prose and a novelist of extraordinary accomplishment. Constantly referring to the cultural, social and political landscape of Common’s time, and also heaving his relevance into the present, Armstrong’s book should become a standard reference for anyone interested in the period, the man or the topic. It’s a reminder , in these times when meritocracy is taken to be nature, just how far we have to go before individuals cease to be defined by class.
Finally, if capitalism is a contingency, as I believe, we can set aside our nervousness over not giving due recognition to its achievements; they could all have been realised without it. Similarly, socialism is not the next and final phase in some inevitable teleology but the make-and-mend response to the dreadful damage which must accompany an economy organised for the enrichment of a few at the expense of the rest. Perhaps if Common had held such a view he would have felt less required to elaborate suggestions as to how the transition could be made and more at liberty to exercise his excellent wit, irony, sarcasm and vitriol against stupidity just as he did with his generosity and love of life when he celebrated the spirit of the victims.
Alan Dent.
28.10.09
25.10.09
cumbrian tour
POETRY READING
BLUEBELL BOOKSHOP, ANGEL SQUARE, PENRITH, CUMBRIA
7.30pm THURSDAY 29TH OCTOBER
GUEST POETS KEITH ARMSTRONG, CAROLE BALDOCK, NICK PEMBERTON AND ANN WILSON
WILL BE JOINED BY YOU!!
OPEN MIC SESSION AFTER THE GUESTS HAVE READ
COME ALONG JOIN GERALDINE GREEN
AND FRIENDS
AND TASTE DEREK’S GLORIOUS
HOME MADE FOOD !!
Admission: free – donations for food welcome
Friday 30th October - Word Soup presents Keith Armstrong - from 8pm - £3, The Continental, South Meadows Lane, Preston, PR1 8JP
Preston Writing Network and They Eat Culture present a Word Soup special in the snug, hosted by experienced poet and compère Ann Wilson and featuring poet, performer and raconteur Keith Armstrong. There will also be a lively Open Mic on the night, so put your name down at the door for a short slot.
Saturday 31 October - Brewery Arts and Apples & Snakes Spoken Word Open Mic, 7.30pm, £2 Admission. Brewery Arts Centre, Highgate Kendal, The Warehouse
A night for lyricists, comedians, storytellers and poets to reel off rhymes, punch out parodies and spit some sonnets in a relaxed cabaret environment with comfy chairs. This months guest artists are Keith Armstrong and Amanda Milligan. Come and listen or get up and be heard, take to the stage with your spoken word.
BLUEBELL BOOKSHOP, ANGEL SQUARE, PENRITH, CUMBRIA
7.30pm THURSDAY 29TH OCTOBER
GUEST POETS KEITH ARMSTRONG, CAROLE BALDOCK, NICK PEMBERTON AND ANN WILSON
WILL BE JOINED BY YOU!!
OPEN MIC SESSION AFTER THE GUESTS HAVE READ
COME ALONG JOIN GERALDINE GREEN
AND FRIENDS
AND TASTE DEREK’S GLORIOUS
HOME MADE FOOD !!
Admission: free – donations for food welcome
Friday 30th October - Word Soup presents Keith Armstrong - from 8pm - £3, The Continental, South Meadows Lane, Preston, PR1 8JP
Preston Writing Network and They Eat Culture present a Word Soup special in the snug, hosted by experienced poet and compère Ann Wilson and featuring poet, performer and raconteur Keith Armstrong. There will also be a lively Open Mic on the night, so put your name down at the door for a short slot.
Saturday 31 October - Brewery Arts and Apples & Snakes Spoken Word Open Mic, 7.30pm, £2 Admission. Brewery Arts Centre, Highgate Kendal, The Warehouse
A night for lyricists, comedians, storytellers and poets to reel off rhymes, punch out parodies and spit some sonnets in a relaxed cabaret environment with comfy chairs. This months guest artists are Keith Armstrong and Amanda Milligan. Come and listen or get up and be heard, take to the stage with your spoken word.
24.10.09
POLITICAL BOOK FAIR 2009
Programme for Saturday: The Political Book Fair at Kala Sangam, St Peter's House, Forster Square, Bradford BD1
11.30 Poetry open mic
12.00 Dave Douglass ‘The Miners Strike’
12.30 Poetry open mic
1.00 Little Brother ‘Ranting Poetry in the Eighties’
1.30 Gary Cavanagh
2.00 Bill Broady ‘The third man; in search of Victor Grayson’
2.30 Keith Armstrong, poet from North East, reading from his work
3.00 Andy Croft ‘Radical publishing’
3.30 Poetry open mic.
11.30 Poetry open mic
12.00 Dave Douglass ‘The Miners Strike’
12.30 Poetry open mic
1.00 Little Brother ‘Ranting Poetry in the Eighties’
1.30 Gary Cavanagh
2.00 Bill Broady ‘The third man; in search of Victor Grayson’
2.30 Keith Armstrong, poet from North East, reading from his work
3.00 Andy Croft ‘Radical publishing’
3.30 Poetry open mic.
22.10.09
keith's new book
Keith’s book on Jack Common grew from a Ph.D thesis. As his supervisor over the five years of part-time study that resulted in a successful Ph.D, I am very pleased to see the book in print. We always hoped that the academic thesis would re-appear as a book and this hope has now been realized.
Keith’s relationship to Jack Common is much more than that of biographer and literary critic. And the thesis from which the book derives is no conventional academic treatise. For a start, Keith was no stranger to the subject. He grew up, as did Jack Common, in Heaton in the east end of Newcastle. Like Jack Common, he knows well the society from which he came. He knows the streets on which Jack Common played and the pubs in which he drank. Like Common, Keith is a writer, a poet of some standing whose work strikes notes that Jack Common would have recognized in an instant. There is a keen interest in ordinary people. There is a powerful sense of ironic distance as he observes the world around him. There is a strong social commitment to the building of a better society and an interest in the radical political traditions of the North East of England.
Like Common, Keith is no politician. His journey to a better world has been through the arts, poetry in particular, but that would not have been possible without his work in community arts and in encouraging people from all over the North East to get down to their writing and to tell the world about their lives. Like Common, Keith is from the North East but in some ways he is not of the North East. Unlike Common, he has stayed here plying his arts whenever there is a chance to do so.
In the 1970s and early 80s Keith was part of a small but active group of writers, social scientists and political activists called Strong Words that was inspired in part by the writings of Jack Common. Indeed, they edited and published some of his unpublished papers. In this sense, Keith was part of the re-discovery of Jack Common, a writer whose star had waned in the post-war world, but which had once shined brightly in the inter-war years when he was friends with Orwell and other literary giants, especially on the left.
Keith’s poetry and community arts background were his membership qualifications but this former librarian strengthened his academic credentials through two Durham degrees in social science. That was a few years ago but he got the academic bug and carried on with a Ph.D.
Jack Common was a good subject for Keith. His life and work opened up themes that Keith has been working on for the past 30 years: the nature of class society in Britain, the culture and values of the North East of England, the role of art in politics and the possibility of enabling working people to re-gain control of their lives and live them to full. For this reason, Keith’s art, like Common’s, has an oppositional, transformative thrust. He wants to change the world but he doesn’t want to impose some plan on it. He wants to celebrate the best of working class culture but is not naïve about the worst of it. In any case, the lives of working class people have changed profoundly between the times of Common and Keith Armstrong and the nature of those changes has been at the heart of Keith’s work, particularly of this biography of his hero.
The thesis Keith wrote was not the usual run-of-the-mill study in which a student, well-trained in he latest research methods, grinds through a programme of data collection to reach limp, though balanced (and often insignificant)conclusions about topics that are often so specialized they interest only a small group of like-minded academics.
Keith’s study has taken him an adult lifetime without which it could not have been written. He brings to literary criticism and to the art of biography, a keen sociological eye that enables him to see the subtle interplays between context and experience, attitudes and lifestyles and to reveal in particular, how some people – Jack Common in this case – can break through the constraints of their lives or, to use Common’s typically ironic expression, overcome ‘Kiddar’s Luck’ and look forward to new horizons, new experiences, new possibilities. Like Common, Keith knows what this takes. It takes new learning. It takes courage: the courage to be different, to think, to challenge orthodox opinions and to have your own ideas tested in debate. Jack Common, and Keith is no different, liked pubs. He liked nothing better than being in a pub talking to people. Keith does this professionally and through this, at least in part, keeps in touch with the changing lives of the people of this region. Like most academics, and like all poets, his head is mainly in the air, but this man has his feet also on the ground. What this means in practice can be seen in his work, especially in this new study of Common. I hope very much this book will keep both of them in the public eye for many years to come.
Bill Williamson
October 2009
Keith’s relationship to Jack Common is much more than that of biographer and literary critic. And the thesis from which the book derives is no conventional academic treatise. For a start, Keith was no stranger to the subject. He grew up, as did Jack Common, in Heaton in the east end of Newcastle. Like Jack Common, he knows well the society from which he came. He knows the streets on which Jack Common played and the pubs in which he drank. Like Common, Keith is a writer, a poet of some standing whose work strikes notes that Jack Common would have recognized in an instant. There is a keen interest in ordinary people. There is a powerful sense of ironic distance as he observes the world around him. There is a strong social commitment to the building of a better society and an interest in the radical political traditions of the North East of England.
Like Common, Keith is no politician. His journey to a better world has been through the arts, poetry in particular, but that would not have been possible without his work in community arts and in encouraging people from all over the North East to get down to their writing and to tell the world about their lives. Like Common, Keith is from the North East but in some ways he is not of the North East. Unlike Common, he has stayed here plying his arts whenever there is a chance to do so.
In the 1970s and early 80s Keith was part of a small but active group of writers, social scientists and political activists called Strong Words that was inspired in part by the writings of Jack Common. Indeed, they edited and published some of his unpublished papers. In this sense, Keith was part of the re-discovery of Jack Common, a writer whose star had waned in the post-war world, but which had once shined brightly in the inter-war years when he was friends with Orwell and other literary giants, especially on the left.
Keith’s poetry and community arts background were his membership qualifications but this former librarian strengthened his academic credentials through two Durham degrees in social science. That was a few years ago but he got the academic bug and carried on with a Ph.D.
Jack Common was a good subject for Keith. His life and work opened up themes that Keith has been working on for the past 30 years: the nature of class society in Britain, the culture and values of the North East of England, the role of art in politics and the possibility of enabling working people to re-gain control of their lives and live them to full. For this reason, Keith’s art, like Common’s, has an oppositional, transformative thrust. He wants to change the world but he doesn’t want to impose some plan on it. He wants to celebrate the best of working class culture but is not naïve about the worst of it. In any case, the lives of working class people have changed profoundly between the times of Common and Keith Armstrong and the nature of those changes has been at the heart of Keith’s work, particularly of this biography of his hero.
The thesis Keith wrote was not the usual run-of-the-mill study in which a student, well-trained in he latest research methods, grinds through a programme of data collection to reach limp, though balanced (and often insignificant)conclusions about topics that are often so specialized they interest only a small group of like-minded academics.
Keith’s study has taken him an adult lifetime without which it could not have been written. He brings to literary criticism and to the art of biography, a keen sociological eye that enables him to see the subtle interplays between context and experience, attitudes and lifestyles and to reveal in particular, how some people – Jack Common in this case – can break through the constraints of their lives or, to use Common’s typically ironic expression, overcome ‘Kiddar’s Luck’ and look forward to new horizons, new experiences, new possibilities. Like Common, Keith knows what this takes. It takes new learning. It takes courage: the courage to be different, to think, to challenge orthodox opinions and to have your own ideas tested in debate. Jack Common, and Keith is no different, liked pubs. He liked nothing better than being in a pub talking to people. Keith does this professionally and through this, at least in part, keeps in touch with the changing lives of the people of this region. Like most academics, and like all poets, his head is mainly in the air, but this man has his feet also on the ground. What this means in practice can be seen in his work, especially in this new study of Common. I hope very much this book will keep both of them in the public eye for many years to come.
Bill Williamson
October 2009
19.10.09
jack common day at newcastle library
Thanks for the photographs and other information. I appreciate all the hard work you put into making the day a success. We have had very positive feedback from everybody who attended.
Regards,
Kath
Kath Cassidy
Service Manager: Heritage
Newcastle Libraries and Information Service
I just wanted to thank Keith and members of the Common family and all
involved in organising Saturday's event. It was really enjoyable,
interesting ad informative.
I am sorry that I could not stay for the full day, but I really enjoyed
the part I was able to attend. I have just made a start on reading
Keith's book too and again really enjoying it so far.
Many thanks and best wishes,
Jeanie Molyneux
Regards,
Kath
Kath Cassidy
Service Manager: Heritage
Newcastle Libraries and Information Service
I just wanted to thank Keith and members of the Common family and all
involved in organising Saturday's event. It was really enjoyable,
interesting ad informative.
I am sorry that I could not stay for the full day, but I really enjoyed
the part I was able to attend. I have just made a start on reading
Keith's book too and again really enjoying it so far.
Many thanks and best wishes,
Jeanie Molyneux
4.10.09
LAMENT FOR A WRITER DEAD
He died,
clinging on to his pen,
at six in the morning,
his usual stint.
He’d run out of anything to write about.
For years, he’d watched the world go by his study,
observing other people’s lives.
All he had to do was fill the page,
disengaged,
lacking in instinct,
without a history,
with no real vision of any particular community.
After all,
he knew he was
a writer,
a describer,
inscriber of someone else’s paving stones.
An expert on poetry,
with nothing much at all
to say.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
1.10.09
outside your lonely window
My God,
we are
indeed lucky,
in this great and ancient city,
to have,
in our presence,
such a poet as you.
Sometimes,
it even seems
that you
are bigger than us,
with your huge dome
dominating
our history.
Such an immense
and supreme
ego,
larger than the space
in Grainger Market.
And, when it comes to writing up our story,
we, of course,
must turn to you,
with your flawless technique
and structured craft,
turn to you
in our peasant
ignorance.
Since,
though we have folk songs,
they cannot do justice
to the language,
like you,
above all,
can.
Perhaps,
next time,
before we break
into song,
we should ask you
to subject our voices
to your analysis.
But then
I don’t think,
in your padded academic tower,
that you can hear us all
singing
in the trees,
outside
your lonely window.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
we are
indeed lucky,
in this great and ancient city,
to have,
in our presence,
such a poet as you.
Sometimes,
it even seems
that you
are bigger than us,
with your huge dome
dominating
our history.
Such an immense
and supreme
ego,
larger than the space
in Grainger Market.
And, when it comes to writing up our story,
we, of course,
must turn to you,
with your flawless technique
and structured craft,
turn to you
in our peasant
ignorance.
Since,
though we have folk songs,
they cannot do justice
to the language,
like you,
above all,
can.
Perhaps,
next time,
before we break
into song,
we should ask you
to subject our voices
to your analysis.
But then
I don’t think,
in your padded academic tower,
that you can hear us all
singing
in the trees,
outside
your lonely window.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
25.9.09
"national poetry day"
HEROES & HEROINES OF TYNEDALE & NORTHUMBRIA
Hexham Library will be hosting a Poetry reading by Keith Armstrong to celebrate National Poetry Day
During this event there will be an open slot for local poets
Tickets can be bought in advance by contacting Hexham Library on 01434 652488 at a cost of £2.50. Tickets on the door at £3.00.
National Poetry Day Celebration at Hexham Library
Thursday 8th October 12.30pm - 1.30pm
************************************************************************************
National Poetry Day
“Heroes & Heroines” poetry evening
with Dr. Keith Armstrong
Clayport Library, Durham City
Thursday 8th October
7:30pm; free
to include “open” slot
for audience participation
Please book: (0191) 386 4003
Hexham Library will be hosting a Poetry reading by Keith Armstrong to celebrate National Poetry Day
During this event there will be an open slot for local poets
Tickets can be bought in advance by contacting Hexham Library on 01434 652488 at a cost of £2.50. Tickets on the door at £3.00.
National Poetry Day Celebration at Hexham Library
Thursday 8th October 12.30pm - 1.30pm
************************************************************************************
National Poetry Day
“Heroes & Heroines” poetry evening
with Dr. Keith Armstrong
Clayport Library, Durham City
Thursday 8th October
7:30pm; free
to include “open” slot
for audience participation
Please book: (0191) 386 4003
24.9.09
archive
SHARING THE PAIN AND THE PASSION
From the Northern Echo, first published Saturday 2nd Dec 2000.
HANDS fly skywards, faces eager, the group of eight-year-olds visiting The Northern Echo offices fight to answer questions. On the editor's wall are some of the paper's front pages, famous images framed for posterity, and the children are challenged to identify the news story.
"Princess Diana's death," they chorus, recognising the picture of the funeral cortege.
"Eclipse of the sun," says another child, moving along the row. Then: "First man on the moon."
But the next one has them stumped. October 14, 1992, the year many of them were born, and the headline reads: "The sun sets on 400 years." Blank faces. The picture is a clue, but they don't recognise the black and white image of a pit head. In fact, they don't seem to know what a pit wheel is - ironic since the paper they are visiting was once known as the "Miners' Bible". How quickly the world forgets.
To the youth of today, coal is a fossil fuel they are told the world should no longer be using. Burning it depletes a natural resource, filling the atmosphere with greenhouse gases which destroy the ozone layer. The connotations are all negative, environmentally unfriendly.
It's a far cry from last century when coal was the mainstay of the economy. On coal the region was built. It fuelled our fires, it forged our industry, it sustained lives, but took plenty too.
Yet the memories of the industry itself, and the men, boys and animals who sacrificed their lives, are fading fast.
No better time then to launch a book to remind the North-East of its heritage.
Our Village is edited by Keith Armstrong, edited, not written, because the freelance writer from Whitley Bay allows real people to tell their story, through earthy accounts, poetry and song.
It's a powerful collection, provoking strong images of working class life, of tragedy and black humour.
For Keith the book, published by The People's History, represents 20 years of working in former mining communities.
"This book documents the changing face of County Durham and provides a vivid portrayal of pit closures," says the Newcastle-born writer, whose father was a shipyard worker.
"But it also highlights a kind of resilience in the people, the ability to bounce back from disaster. We have tried to bring out a lot of the humour."
No better example than the recollections of John Iddon, of Trimdon. He recalls: "The Lowe family were another laugh with some queer tales. The father was called Matt and was nicknamed Crock. He worked at Deaf Hill Colliery. One night Matt had gone out for a drink and must have gone over the eight. He collapsed in the yard and it was teeming with rain. Someone passing the yard went and knocked on his door and when Mrs Lowe answered she was told: 'Mrs Lowe, your Matt is lying in the yard'. She replied: 'Just put it over the wall and it will dry out in the morning'."
Publisher Andrew Clark says the strength of the book is the wealth of material recounted by real people.
"Personal memories of people who had lived through hard times; the General Strike, the Depression, the Second World War, down the mines," he says. "Keith has allowed them to tell their own story, we just put their stories into a logical format. The book provides a real sense of what it is like to live in a pit village.
"People didn't like going down coal mines but they didn't want them to close the way they did. There's a great sense of loss. They went down at 14, as boys, and now they just want to talk about it. They have seen the whole community change and they don't want people to forget.
"The book is helping to preserve their memories. People sacrificed their lives down the pit and this shouldn't be forgotten."
Launched in the Dun Cow, Old Elvet, Durham, yesterday, the book inspired miner's son Ian Horn to recall some of the memories his father Billy had of their home village of Shotton Colliery.
"It was the Rock of Gibraltar made of coal dust and slag," he says. "A miner's volcano with vapour of sulphur fumes rising from it. The volcano is now pasture, a grassy hill surrounded by call centres." He says the pit wheel has become a monument and nostalgia is a powerful emotion but there is a danger the pit disasters and hardship can be forgotten.
The tone of the book is captured in the preface in the lyrics of a song by rock folk band Whisky Priests:
This village draws me,
I hear it calling me back through the years.
It's people are its life blood,
I am its joys, I am its tears.
A sacred bond exists here
Between the land and the people it owns.
It grants no escape from the realm of its fate,
It reaps the crops we have sown,
This village has made me all that I am,
This village is calling me home.
The band is headed by twins Gary and Glen Miller, 34. Now living in York, they grew up in the mining community of Sherburn, near Durham, and their material is heavily influenced by North-East culture.
"Our grandparents and uncles were miners but our dad, Allan, was a school teacher," says Gary. "Dad was the youngest son and his father was determined that he should not go down the mines. They scrimped and saved to send him to college and because of that he didn't dare fail. He didn't go down the mines, for which he is eternally grateful.
"Our dad was a singer with a brass band and tried to get us interested in music. Now we run our own record company, have our own website and are popular across Europe."
Glen adds: "We are a rock band but don't just sing about love and baby, baby. We are serious about our lyrics and the content, they have much more depth."
Through this book, and possibly a second volume, mining communities will live on long past the closure of the pits, its stories, pictures, poetry and songs a lasting testament for future generations.
**Our Village (The People's History)
From the Northern Echo, first published Saturday 2nd Dec 2000.
HANDS fly skywards, faces eager, the group of eight-year-olds visiting The Northern Echo offices fight to answer questions. On the editor's wall are some of the paper's front pages, famous images framed for posterity, and the children are challenged to identify the news story.
"Princess Diana's death," they chorus, recognising the picture of the funeral cortege.
"Eclipse of the sun," says another child, moving along the row. Then: "First man on the moon."
But the next one has them stumped. October 14, 1992, the year many of them were born, and the headline reads: "The sun sets on 400 years." Blank faces. The picture is a clue, but they don't recognise the black and white image of a pit head. In fact, they don't seem to know what a pit wheel is - ironic since the paper they are visiting was once known as the "Miners' Bible". How quickly the world forgets.
To the youth of today, coal is a fossil fuel they are told the world should no longer be using. Burning it depletes a natural resource, filling the atmosphere with greenhouse gases which destroy the ozone layer. The connotations are all negative, environmentally unfriendly.
It's a far cry from last century when coal was the mainstay of the economy. On coal the region was built. It fuelled our fires, it forged our industry, it sustained lives, but took plenty too.
Yet the memories of the industry itself, and the men, boys and animals who sacrificed their lives, are fading fast.
No better time then to launch a book to remind the North-East of its heritage.
Our Village is edited by Keith Armstrong, edited, not written, because the freelance writer from Whitley Bay allows real people to tell their story, through earthy accounts, poetry and song.
It's a powerful collection, provoking strong images of working class life, of tragedy and black humour.
For Keith the book, published by The People's History, represents 20 years of working in former mining communities.
"This book documents the changing face of County Durham and provides a vivid portrayal of pit closures," says the Newcastle-born writer, whose father was a shipyard worker.
"But it also highlights a kind of resilience in the people, the ability to bounce back from disaster. We have tried to bring out a lot of the humour."
No better example than the recollections of John Iddon, of Trimdon. He recalls: "The Lowe family were another laugh with some queer tales. The father was called Matt and was nicknamed Crock. He worked at Deaf Hill Colliery. One night Matt had gone out for a drink and must have gone over the eight. He collapsed in the yard and it was teeming with rain. Someone passing the yard went and knocked on his door and when Mrs Lowe answered she was told: 'Mrs Lowe, your Matt is lying in the yard'. She replied: 'Just put it over the wall and it will dry out in the morning'."
Publisher Andrew Clark says the strength of the book is the wealth of material recounted by real people.
"Personal memories of people who had lived through hard times; the General Strike, the Depression, the Second World War, down the mines," he says. "Keith has allowed them to tell their own story, we just put their stories into a logical format. The book provides a real sense of what it is like to live in a pit village.
"People didn't like going down coal mines but they didn't want them to close the way they did. There's a great sense of loss. They went down at 14, as boys, and now they just want to talk about it. They have seen the whole community change and they don't want people to forget.
"The book is helping to preserve their memories. People sacrificed their lives down the pit and this shouldn't be forgotten."
Launched in the Dun Cow, Old Elvet, Durham, yesterday, the book inspired miner's son Ian Horn to recall some of the memories his father Billy had of their home village of Shotton Colliery.
"It was the Rock of Gibraltar made of coal dust and slag," he says. "A miner's volcano with vapour of sulphur fumes rising from it. The volcano is now pasture, a grassy hill surrounded by call centres." He says the pit wheel has become a monument and nostalgia is a powerful emotion but there is a danger the pit disasters and hardship can be forgotten.
The tone of the book is captured in the preface in the lyrics of a song by rock folk band Whisky Priests:
This village draws me,
I hear it calling me back through the years.
It's people are its life blood,
I am its joys, I am its tears.
A sacred bond exists here
Between the land and the people it owns.
It grants no escape from the realm of its fate,
It reaps the crops we have sown,
This village has made me all that I am,
This village is calling me home.
The band is headed by twins Gary and Glen Miller, 34. Now living in York, they grew up in the mining community of Sherburn, near Durham, and their material is heavily influenced by North-East culture.
"Our grandparents and uncles were miners but our dad, Allan, was a school teacher," says Gary. "Dad was the youngest son and his father was determined that he should not go down the mines. They scrimped and saved to send him to college and because of that he didn't dare fail. He didn't go down the mines, for which he is eternally grateful.
"Our dad was a singer with a brass band and tried to get us interested in music. Now we run our own record company, have our own website and are popular across Europe."
Glen adds: "We are a rock band but don't just sing about love and baby, baby. We are serious about our lyrics and the content, they have much more depth."
Through this book, and possibly a second volume, mining communities will live on long past the closure of the pits, its stories, pictures, poetry and songs a lasting testament for future generations.
**Our Village (The People's History)
21.9.09
jack common
NORTH EAST LABOUR HISTORY SOCIETY presents:
A Jack Common Celebration
The Bridge Hotel, Castle Garth, Newcastle upon Tyne
Keith Armstrong introduces his recent book about Jack Common, followed by talk by Peter Common, commissioned poetry by Catherine Graham and music from Kiddar's Luck folk group.
7pm Tuesday 1st December 2009
"I think you have produced a very interesting and unusual book, an amalgamation between biography of Jack, a lot of interesting detail about his various writings, his socialism and intellectual discussions in the 30s, and then the theme of your own work encouraged by his example as a working-class writer, and leading on to helping other writers in the North East.
I applaud your persistence in publicising your hero and your loyalty to Jack over all these years." (Sally Magill, Jack’s daughter)
"You must be feeling very proud that your book is at long last out on the bookshelves and ready to race to the top of the charts." (Peter Common, Jack's son)
A Jack Common Celebration
The Bridge Hotel, Castle Garth, Newcastle upon Tyne
Keith Armstrong introduces his recent book about Jack Common, followed by talk by Peter Common, commissioned poetry by Catherine Graham and music from Kiddar's Luck folk group.
7pm Tuesday 1st December 2009
"Thanks for the book which I think is splendid. THE definitive work. I liked, in particular, your emphasis on the essays which I only discovered through your Strong Words publication all those years ago." (John Mapplebeck, Bewick Films)
"I think you have produced a very interesting and unusual book, an amalgamation between biography of Jack, a lot of interesting detail about his various writings, his socialism and intellectual discussions in the 30s, and then the theme of your own work encouraged by his example as a working-class writer, and leading on to helping other writers in the North East.
I applaud your persistence in publicising your hero and your loyalty to Jack over all these years." (Sally Magill, Jack’s daughter)
"You must be feeling very proud that your book is at long last out on the bookshelves and ready to race to the top of the charts." (Peter Common, Jack's son)
20.9.09
armstrong in douglas, isle of man
To the wonderful, amusing, spot-on Keith!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for coming to the Isle of Man and sharing your ace sense of humour and brilliantly crafted words. Please come back again. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shelley D
KERRY FROM THE ISLE OF MAN
(inspired by Patrick Kavanagh)
I met a kind of woman on the Isle of Man,
she touched me where a railway was.
She took me to Port Soderick
to lay all her dreams on the line.
She was a sexed-up girl from Ballasalla,
with a compartment for each of my moods.
By the time she had me in Ronaldsway,
I was starting to fill up with her joy.
In Ballabeg, she jumped on my train
to make me explode with a steamy desire.
Now, I’m missing her beauty again,
with her island warmth and hospitable eyes.
And, If I ever go back in Port Erin rain,
I’ll be sure to surrender my poems to her lips.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
15.9.09
5.9.09
BLUES FOR HENK
The day opens its doors to set a poem loose,
the sun beats hard on the skin of the sluice.
A passing bridge blinks to let a boat break through,
it’s time to leave English and sing something new.
From Lauwersee to Dollard
and from Drenthe to the Wad,
I follow a passing seagull’s cry
and teach my father’s voice to sigh:
Vivace la flambardo
Fugere le mansardo
Parforce la Camargo
a doso kwatrupardo
Monete penicardo
Pericula san pardo
Finate par retardo
Etcetera ce fardo*
Another night sleepless in Hotel Simplon,
the creaking bedhead and the simpletons.
Shot bolt awake by the drill of the dawn,
who cares what these unswept streets will spawn?
We’re walking the lanes that Hendrik Werkman dredged,
chipping the gems from the pavement’s edge.
Past a man fishing, heron stood by his side,
to the dark Huis de Beurs where all hope has died.
This Groningen wind belts poems in my face,
I’d trade in old guilders to buy out of this place;
my brain’s pickled with Duvals,
and there’s blood on the walls.
Oh to die in the trash of this town,
ode-money tumbling from pockets of time.
Think I’ll whistle a tune straight from home,
and slash the pale wrist of my very last poem.
Last night I put a piper to bed,
music dripped from his heart and his worn fingers bled.
And I couldn’t get that woman out of my dreams,
and I couldn’t hear my dreams for her screams.
So the day leaps to life and a hymn springs to mind,
I’m just a poor down-and-out hoarding words that I find.
Drunk conversations swim round in the bowl,
I’m drowning with language this lonely old soul:
Vivace la flambardo
Fugere le mansardo
Parforce le Camargo
a doso kwatrupardo
the sun beats hard on the skin of the sluice.
A passing bridge blinks to let a boat break through,
it’s time to leave English and sing something new.
From Lauwersee to Dollard
and from Drenthe to the Wad,
I follow a passing seagull’s cry
and teach my father’s voice to sigh:
Vivace la flambardo
Fugere le mansardo
Parforce la Camargo
a doso kwatrupardo
Monete penicardo
Pericula san pardo
Finate par retardo
Etcetera ce fardo*
Another night sleepless in Hotel Simplon,
the creaking bedhead and the simpletons.
Shot bolt awake by the drill of the dawn,
who cares what these unswept streets will spawn?
We’re walking the lanes that Hendrik Werkman dredged,
chipping the gems from the pavement’s edge.
Past a man fishing, heron stood by his side,
to the dark Huis de Beurs where all hope has died.
This Groningen wind belts poems in my face,
I’d trade in old guilders to buy out of this place;
my brain’s pickled with Duvals,
and there’s blood on the walls.
Oh to die in the trash of this town,
ode-money tumbling from pockets of time.
Think I’ll whistle a tune straight from home,
and slash the pale wrist of my very last poem.
Last night I put a piper to bed,
music dripped from his heart and his worn fingers bled.
And I couldn’t get that woman out of my dreams,
and I couldn’t hear my dreams for her screams.
So the day leaps to life and a hymn springs to mind,
I’m just a poor down-and-out hoarding words that I find.
Drunk conversations swim round in the bowl,
I’m drowning with language this lonely old soul:
Vivace la flambardo
Fugere le mansardo
Parforce le Camargo
a doso kwatrupardo
Monete penicardo
Pericula san pardo
Finate par retardo
Etcetera ce fardo
Keith Armstrong,
Groningen, The Netherlands
*Improvised verse by poet and graphic artist Hendrik Nicolaas Werkman (1882-1945)
Pericula san pardo
Finate par retardo
Etcetera ce fardo
Keith Armstrong,
Groningen, The Netherlands
*Improvised verse by poet and graphic artist Hendrik Nicolaas Werkman (1882-1945)
31.8.09
jack common events reminder
NEWCASTLE CITY LIBRARIES & THE WORKERS' EDUCATIONAL ASSOCIATION
PRESENT:
COMMON WORDS AND THE WANDERING STAR - BOOK LAUNCH
BEWICK HALL, NEWCASTLE CENTRAL LIBRARY
SATURDAY OCTOBER 17TH
BOOK LAUNCH 10.30am to 5pm
10.30am 'From Heaton to Newport Pagnell - in search of Jack' - talk by Heaton born Dr Keith Armstrong, author of 'Common Words and the Wandering Star'
11.15am Short tribute by Jack Common's son, Peter
11.30am Discussion
12.30pm Lunch
2pm Films - 'Tyneside Story' - film by Jack Common; 'Common's Luck' - B.B.C. TV biography of Jack Common, introduced by its Director, John Mapplebeck of Bewick Films
3pm Dr Keith Armstrong & Peter Common - short readings from the new book, including poetry
3.45 - 4.45pm Musical celebration with Jez Lowe, songwriter of 'Jack Common's Anthem', & Tyneside folk group 'Kiddar's Luck'
ADMISSION FREE
Contact: Kath Cassidy, Newcastle Libraries tel 0191 2774155
UNIVERSITY OF DURHAM, SCHOOL OF EDUCATION
PRESENTS:
COMMON WORDS AND THE WANDERING STAR - BOOK LAUNCH
WEDNESDAY 21ST OCTOBER 6-8PM
Room ED 134, School of Education, Leazes Road, Durham
Talk and reading by the author Dr Keith Armstrong
Introductions by Professor Bill Williamson and Professor Mike Fleming
Admisssion free Refreshments
Contact: Michelle Wilkinson, School of Education tel 0191 3348310
Jack Common was born in Heaton, Newcastle upon Tyne in 1903. His father worked at the locomotive works close to the family house in Heaton. He attended Chillingham Road Council School, where he excelled at essay writing, but left at fourteen to attend commercial college and to work in a solicitor's office. Years of indifferent jobs and unemployment led him to move to London in 1928, partly to foster his political convictions and also to escape unemployment in the north. In 1930 he commenced work as a circulation promoter on The Adelphi, a socialist journal edited by John Middleton Murry, Richard Rees and Max Plowman. He was soon employed as assistant editor and took over editorship for a period in the 1930's. Common was a contributor to The Adelphi and other journals such as New Britain, The Aryan Path and The New Statesman and Nation, but it was The Adelphi which occupied most of his time during the thirties; writing political and social articles, book reviews, a column called "The Sweeper Up" and helping to shape policy and direction by working with the three editors. George Orwell was another contributor to the journal and it was through their working relationship on the journal that they formed a close friendship.
In 1939 The Adelphi was put out of print and Common sought work as a film script writer and editor for government documentary films and lived in Langham, Essex at the Adelphi Centre, a community set up in 1936. After the war he found more film work with Rank Studios as a script advisor and reporter on suitability of novels as film subjects. He also worked as a freelance for the Associated British Picture Corporation during the 1950s and 1960s, again writing and editing scripts. In terms of his published work there are two phases to his work, the political and socially conscious essays of the 1930s and the fictional work of the 1950s, which reflect the work he was undertaking at these times. In 1938 he published Seven Shifts, a collection of seven working men's tales of work which Common edited and introduced. In the same year he published a book of social and political essays The Freedom of the Streets. Kiddar's Luck, the fictionalised autobiography of Jack Common's life up to the age of fourteen, published in 1951, was written under conditions of great hardship. Whilst writing the book he worked as a labourer during the day and wrote and edited film scripts in the evening, using the weekends to write his novel. He was under similar financial pressure when writing The Ampersand, a further autobiographical novel, in 1953-4; despite the favourable reviews given to Kiddar's Luck, the publishers became bankrupt, leaving him without a publisher to market the books and ensuring that the book was not the financial success it should have been. He also produced many articles for contemporary journals and magazines.
He died in 1968 before he could complete his third novel.
PRESENT:
COMMON WORDS AND THE WANDERING STAR - BOOK LAUNCH
BEWICK HALL, NEWCASTLE CENTRAL LIBRARY
SATURDAY OCTOBER 17TH
BOOK LAUNCH 10.30am to 5pm
10.30am 'From Heaton to Newport Pagnell - in search of Jack' - talk by Heaton born Dr Keith Armstrong, author of 'Common Words and the Wandering Star'
11.15am Short tribute by Jack Common's son, Peter
11.30am Discussion
12.30pm Lunch
2pm Films - 'Tyneside Story' - film by Jack Common; 'Common's Luck' - B.B.C. TV biography of Jack Common, introduced by its Director, John Mapplebeck of Bewick Films
3pm Dr Keith Armstrong & Peter Common - short readings from the new book, including poetry
3.45 - 4.45pm Musical celebration with Jez Lowe, songwriter of 'Jack Common's Anthem', & Tyneside folk group 'Kiddar's Luck'
ADMISSION FREE
Contact: Kath Cassidy, Newcastle Libraries tel 0191 2774155
UNIVERSITY OF DURHAM, SCHOOL OF EDUCATION
PRESENTS:
COMMON WORDS AND THE WANDERING STAR - BOOK LAUNCH
WEDNESDAY 21ST OCTOBER 6-8PM
Room ED 134, School of Education, Leazes Road, Durham
Talk and reading by the author Dr Keith Armstrong
Introductions by Professor Bill Williamson and Professor Mike Fleming
Admisssion free Refreshments
Contact: Michelle Wilkinson, School of Education tel 0191 3348310
Jack Common was born in Heaton, Newcastle upon Tyne in 1903. His father worked at the locomotive works close to the family house in Heaton. He attended Chillingham Road Council School, where he excelled at essay writing, but left at fourteen to attend commercial college and to work in a solicitor's office. Years of indifferent jobs and unemployment led him to move to London in 1928, partly to foster his political convictions and also to escape unemployment in the north. In 1930 he commenced work as a circulation promoter on The Adelphi, a socialist journal edited by John Middleton Murry, Richard Rees and Max Plowman. He was soon employed as assistant editor and took over editorship for a period in the 1930's. Common was a contributor to The Adelphi and other journals such as New Britain, The Aryan Path and The New Statesman and Nation, but it was The Adelphi which occupied most of his time during the thirties; writing political and social articles, book reviews, a column called "The Sweeper Up" and helping to shape policy and direction by working with the three editors. George Orwell was another contributor to the journal and it was through their working relationship on the journal that they formed a close friendship.
In 1939 The Adelphi was put out of print and Common sought work as a film script writer and editor for government documentary films and lived in Langham, Essex at the Adelphi Centre, a community set up in 1936. After the war he found more film work with Rank Studios as a script advisor and reporter on suitability of novels as film subjects. He also worked as a freelance for the Associated British Picture Corporation during the 1950s and 1960s, again writing and editing scripts. In terms of his published work there are two phases to his work, the political and socially conscious essays of the 1930s and the fictional work of the 1950s, which reflect the work he was undertaking at these times. In 1938 he published Seven Shifts, a collection of seven working men's tales of work which Common edited and introduced. In the same year he published a book of social and political essays The Freedom of the Streets. Kiddar's Luck, the fictionalised autobiography of Jack Common's life up to the age of fourteen, published in 1951, was written under conditions of great hardship. Whilst writing the book he worked as a labourer during the day and wrote and edited film scripts in the evening, using the weekends to write his novel. He was under similar financial pressure when writing The Ampersand, a further autobiographical novel, in 1953-4; despite the favourable reviews given to Kiddar's Luck, the publishers became bankrupt, leaving him without a publisher to market the books and ensuring that the book was not the financial success it should have been. He also produced many articles for contemporary journals and magazines.
He died in 1968 before he could complete his third novel.
30.8.09
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the jingling geordie
- keith armstrong
- whitley bay, tyne and wear, United Kingdom
- poet and raconteur
