Blogging
has not come naturally over the last few weeks. I’m not cracking many jokes and
those I do are so saturnine as to be in bad taste, e.g. talking about the death+incest count in Oedipus' family on twitter on UN International Day of Families. I'm writing this more for myself so I can later remember May 2020 than in the expectation anyone else would be interested.
There have been severe
downs. My siblings and I got our ailing father safely into a (mercifully still!)
Covid-free nursing home just in time before lockdown. But my husband’s
stepmother of 60 years died in Guernsey and it is wretched that he has been unable to be with his
95-year-old bereaved father.
R.I.P. Best Kitten Ever |
Our
youngest child, who had returned to university in January after depressing health
issues forced a deferral, can’t now go for the year abroad in Japan she was so
excited about. Her kitten, the adorable Captain Pugwash, got killed by a car
speeding through our estate. At least we could all attend his funeral. Now top management at my employer is sending out universal emails about imminent pay cuts and retirement packages. But others have it SO
MUCH WORSE.
My Brilliant PhD |
My Favourite Picture of Aesop |
There
has been some excitement. My former PhD student, the remarkable Oliver Baldwin, who despite looking like a large Viking is effectively Spanish, has won 1st prize from the Association of Hispanists of Britain and Ireland for his outstanding dissertation on Seneca in the Second Spanish republic.
I’ve finished my 31st (I think) book, on the
poet Tony Harrison’s radical classicism. I’ve had some lovely face time with
close friends and realised that some estrangements have been petty and fixed them. I’ve been interviewed by my friend the the wondrous Natalie Haynes on ancient heroines (first
instalment tomorrow, on Helen of Troy, BBC Radio 4 at 1630). I recorded a
radio programme on Aesop with esteemed colleagues Vaios Liapis (Cyprus) and
Dan-el Padilla Peralta (Princeton) which will be broadcast on BBC World Service
on 28th May.
One of the Two Work Things I'm Proud Of |
I’m also about to record a Start the Week on my new book
with Henry Stead, A People’s History of Classics, to be broadcast on 25th May. I wrote a Gresham Lecture on Hippocrates and ancient Greek medicine to be live-streamed at 1300 on May 28th if I can manage to stop my hair looking like an electrocuted bobcat and my husband and I can stop giggling while recording it in front of the dog. I've enjoyed doing new podcasts on Disney's Hercules and on Virtue Ethics.
But
what worries me is my shrinking horizons. Reading international news makes me go
boss-eyed. I don’t seem to have opinions on important issues any more. I don’t enjoy shouting at Tories on the TV and just turn it off. I keep losing my phone without
ever taking it out of the house and finding it in strange places like my underwear drawer. I have begun to get obsessive when I can't find dried mushrooms in the local supermarket. I have wept because I couldn't get the microwave to work and because I heard a melodious songbird. I'm sure I'm not alone in this.
With Nat Haynes pre-social distancing |
As
I read this I can barely recognise myself. When on earth did I become so earnest,
narrow, inward, self-centred and self-pre-occupied? I've never used such a dense cluster of first-person singular pronouns in my life. Let’s hope we all get let out soon or I fear I’ll forget what I’m on the planet for, at least other than making home-made pasta.
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