Katherine Mansfield: The Memories of LM

I have just finished reading, Katherine Mansfield: The Memories of LM.

LM (Ida Baker) was Mansfield's devoted friend and companion from the moment they met at Queen's College, London (Mansfield had moved to London from her native New Zealand) until Mansfield's untimely death from Tuberculosis at the age of 34.

LM's account of their life over the 20 year period is poignant, frank, raw and beautifully endearing.  At times we are subjected to moments of gushing sentiment from LM for Mansfield but we must remember that for Mansfield, LM was 'about the nearest thing to "eternal" that I could ever imagine'.

Mansfield's life is well documented and even when we read her letters and journals we think we get a sense of who she was; how she thought, what made her tick.  LM provides us with a valuable insight into the Mansfield behind the short stories and the poetry.  Reading LM's account of their life together over the 20 years allows us to understand Mansfield at her most vulnerable, frail, powerful and intuitive so that when we read her short stories, poetry, journals and letters we are able to read them from a different perspective every single time, peeling away layer upon layer of her prose to leave us feeling that we have only just scratched the surface, and that even if we read the same story 20 times, we still wouldn't be able to understand every single nuance of meaning or character.

Through LM's memories of Mansfield we see two women who were articulate, intelligent, loyal, demanding and so inextricably linked by their devotion to each other, in whichever guise that it took, that it feels as if we have intruded on a friendship which was deeply sacred for both women.  There are times within the book when you get frustrated with LM and her un-wavering dedication to Mansfield to the point that you feel she has sacrificed her own freedom and happiness, in order to play servant to a fickle and at times selfish woman.  You also get a sense that Mansfield was at times deeply lonely, craving love and affection in her many relationships, but never quite finding it.  Yet, what is never in doubt is the deep love and mutual respect that LM and Mansfield have for each other.

Reading this book feels as though you have been sat in a comfy arm chair and chatted to Ida Baker in person for many hours about her life with Mansfield.  It is a story that is told beautifully and now I've finished reading it, I feel like I've lost a dear friend.

The Rules of dating self-help books...

I took part in a gender and sexuality research group yesterday.  The theme was Love and I was presenting a paper on dating self-help books.

Part of my personal/research interests, outside of my PhD research, is female glossy magazines (I unashamedly love them, especially Marie Claire, Elle, Grazia and Glamour and if they have a freebie with them, even better!), how women are portrayed in these magazines and the 'singleton' culture.  It's not even particularly from a feminist point of view, it's just purely a question of, why?  I know, to some, snoooooore, but to me I find it interesting about what exactly is it that entices me to the glossy pages and pages of shoes I can't afford and clothes that would make me look like a novelty overstuffed condom or worse, time after time. I'm also taking exception to particular radio and TV adverts at the moment and the female voice overs they're using. But, anyway, back to self-help books.

Now, I don't like dating self-help books and I freely admit it.  I'm hugely cynical about them.  I find them patronising and in the case of The Rules just so goddamn bloody offensive to my 21st century lady thinking.  As I said in my paper yesterday, The Rules includes such trash as: 'Don't Talk to a Man First (and Don't Ask Him to Dance)', 'Don't Call Him and Rarely Return His Calls' and 'Don't Meet Him Halfway or Go Dutch on a Date' I find it quite honestly infuriating.  In this book there are 55 rules in total with a further 32 extra hints at the end. That's 87, yes 87!  If it takes 87 rules and handy hints for dating, seriously, I'm surprised any woman who reads this manages to get married or have any kind of quality relationship at all.  But I suppose, it is written and aimed at a particular kind of woman who is looking for a particular kind of man.  If that's what you like and need good luck to you but I say burn the bloody book and loosen up.  It is bilge.

My Google research threw up some depressing feedback and information on dating and self-help books, for example there is a book called, The Power of the Pussy, I kid you not and I'm guessing it's not for cat lovers...

I would say though, He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo is one I've read and really enjoyed reading.  Not for the dating advice particularly, but just for the humour.  It is a funny read.  I like Greg, he's funny and honest.  Check out Ask Greg, it's good.  Yes, his advice tends to boil down to the same thing, 'He's Just Not That Into You', but I believe what he's doing is giving women a bit of a shake to start trusting their own gut instincts again.  I mean, why do we go to these books in the first place if we don't trust our own judgment when it comes to working out whether a person is right for us.

Now, I am no dating expert at all, if anything I'm probably the last person who should be spouting on about these kind of things (and no, I still have not given shop boy my number before you ask, so yes, I am Miss Hypocrite of Southport), and I will admit, I do ask the advice of a (particular) man when it comes to men and dates, simply because I value his opinion and I know he will always be honest with me, but generally I do trust my own gut instincts.  I don't go to self-help books.

I say, ditch them, they're a load of old twaddle and start trusting yourself on these matters.  If someone is behaving like a dick, chances are....they're a dick and you're better off without them.  You're worth more than that and you know it.  I know, I've been there more times than I care to think about.

Another one bites the dust...

Last week I finished my MA degree. Yes, another degree to my name.

I'm not going to lie it was bloody hard work at times and there were moments where I thought my brain was going to implode with some of the things I had to learn, but in all seriousnessness it was a fantastic experience I would happily repeat again.  I learnt a lot along the way (1) I need to read more; (2) I still can't wire a plug; (3) There are some wonderfully generous people out there who have given their time and energy to help me (with a special mention to the man at Aphrohead Books in Southport who ordered in for me a particular book I desperately needed from America...the week before my deadline); and (4) I need a bloody holiday!

The last two weeks I spent under a self-imposed house arrest to get my dissertation finished and by last Tuesday I thought I was living The Yellow Wallpaper.  I was on the verge of starting to talk to spoons my cabin fever got that bad. I did manage to hold back drawing a face on one of my wooden spoons, calling it Colin and propping it up on my desk for company, but it was a close thing.

So, where does this leave me now. Well, I've applied to study for a PhD on what I've just spent the last 8/9 months writing about. Yes, I know, you'd think I'd want to give my brain a bit of a break, get a healthier looking bank balance and buy shoes again. Apparently, not.  You see, during the past 4 years of university life and being a "mature" (loose sense of the word, mature) student I've had time to think about what I want to do when I grow up and, I want to teach at further and higher education. I want to impart the knowledge of this wise old sage onto those who love books, reading and learning.  Even if one person gleans something interesting or important from what I teach them, then I'll be happy (to be honest it would be better if it was more than one person I'd be more employable then, but you get my drift).

It's not often we get another bite of the cherry career wise but I've got mine so I need to make the most of it before I'm at pensionable age and ready for a nursing home.

So, cheers!! Here's to me, everyone who has helped and supported me not just over the last 12 months but the last four years, Tetley Tea and Cadbury's (for their never ending supply of refreshments and my twelvty stone weight gain), Colin the wooden spoon and Google. I couldn't have done it without you.

Female graduate seeks job...

I've read a couple of articles today in the Independent Newspaper and The Guardian about graduate job prospects.

Now, I graduated in 2012 with a good 2:1 in English which, let's face it, is a good 'all rounder' degree which would be beneficial for most graduate jobs out there...unless it's something particularly specialised like, for example, accounting (my maths is really bad) or medicine (all my medical training comes from watching Holby City).

The articles discuss several things: (1) Graduate employment prospects are flourishing; (2) the average starting salary is £29,000, and (3) of the 10,000 graduates who secured employment (which did not require a degree), 20,000 graduates were still unemployed.

Let's start with the average starting salary.  I can first-hand vouch that the starting salaries advertised for the graduate jobs in my surrounding area in the North West are NOT £29,000.  Great, if you live in London or not far from London, but I can confirm that that starting salary does not travel past the Watford Gap to graduate jobs in my neck of the woods.  You're looking at between £17,000 to £19,000 for a graduate job up here.  So, unless you're prepared to relocate then great, fantastic, go for it!  But, if like myself, you already have a mortgage or it's not possible relocate for whatever reason then you're a bit stuck.

Secondly, graduate prospects are flourishing.  Yes, they probably are, but there are so many of us going after these precious graduate jobs that competition is so fierce that employers are becoming even more selective about who they choose to interview, with an average of 46 applications per graduate job.  Part of the issue I have is that I was (and still am) a mature student.  I'm 38 and unlike many of my peers I've already had a career, as a legal secretary.  I don't mean that in a dismissive or derogatory sense but a large percentage of graduates are 21 or 22 fresh faced blank canvasses ready to be moulded into what employers are looking for.  I am an old pro at the working for a living caper and I'm probably be seen as over qualified and therefore too expensive to employ.  I'm not saying this is the case for every mature graduate out there, this is only the experience I've had.  I know, the 'transferable skills' I've accumulated over the years would benefit many of the jobs I apply for but sadly, these employers are not willing to find out.  It might also be that they just don't like what I write on my application forms, there is that.

Finally, graduate unemployment.  This is still a major problem, but not just for graduates, for everyone.  Whilst the demand for graduate jobs is on the increase it can quite easily be applied to the job market in general. For the jobs which are available, so many people are applying for them that it doesn't matter whether you have a degree or not, you're up against stiff competition from every single person who applies for that job.

We are still in a time of severe austerity...though, I had to laugh when George Osborne said in his Spending Review last week, that the rich people in this country have been hardest hit. Really George, are you sure about that??

As I said earlier, I'm still a mature student I went straight into a Masters degree after I finished my undergraduate degree, and I graduate (hopefully, you never know, my dissertation could end up being a complete car crash) in December.  I'm also applying to study for a Phd starting this September (fingers crossed).  All this studying though needs paying for.  Sadly I don't have the looks or the body to take my clothes off for money (though a good friend of mine did once tell me I was a niche market, so I might have to reconsider that option), so I need to find gainful employment to be able to pay for my education.  I'm happy to return to being a legal secretary to pay for it all, but because I refuse to omit part of my education from my C.V. so as not to appear over qualified, I'll just have to keep going until I'm the only person suitable for the job.

Let them eat cake...

With the advent of summer looming in the distance...very far in the distance, EHarmony are now advertising their services with smiley women who have shiny hair and perfect teeth, chatting away about how EHarmony is their spiritual twin. It just knows the perfect match for them and emails over the details of each potential partner picked to perfection, 'Who would want to be alone during the summer eh., not much fun walking along the beach looking at a beautiful sunset on your own is it?' is what they're saying if you read between the lines.

A friend asked me the other night if I'd tried EHarmony (I am currently single and have been for a while)...
Me: 'I can't afford to date.  If EHarmony were a supermarket it would be Waitrose, all ambient lighting and bespoke bread buns. I am like Lidl, stack it high and sell it cheap with unflattering strip lighting.'

But wait, maybe Samantha Brick has a point, if I were thinner I would be more successful at dating and have all the bespoke bread buns I could fit into my basket. No.  If I were to believe Samantha Brick's claims that being fat is actually a failure of life then I'd never leave the house.

I am fat. You can call it curvy, voluptuous, womanly or whatever, the truth of it is, I am overweight. I have a plentiful rump which is all bought and paid for courtesy of Cadbury's and I have a stomach which has never been flat nor never will be flat...apart from when I lie on my back and then my boobs drop under my armpits and I look like a partly deflated blow up doll with cellulite, only without the permanently shocked face.

I digress.

I read with interest Samantha Bricks' article in the Daily Mail the other day when she was waxing lyrical about how she sticks to 1000 calories a day and woe betide her if her husband sees the waistband of her skinny fit jeans digging in and the beginnings of a muffin top, all because she ate too many spuds with her Sunday dinner.  I'm sorry, but isn't that a) a bit sad; b) just wrong; and, c) sending women and the feminist movement hurtling back decades? Maybe it's because I'm a feminist that I find this abhorrent rubbish. I like being a woman and having the choice and freedom to eat what I like, when I like. When I say I'm a feminist it doesn't mean I'm going to chain myself to the front of the town hall or stand in front of the PCSO's bike (in the absence of a kings horse) for my right to eat slabs of battenberg. No, I am a feminist because I believe in women and the right for women to have the freedom of choice on how to live their lives and not have it dictated to them by a french man with a fear of muffin tops.

I don't class myself as a failure because I'm overweight, anything but. I am a success at what I do (and not just eating before you say anything!). I use my brain and in my book that makes me a damn sight more successful than whether I can squeeze myself into a 'bodycon' dress without looking like an over stuffed condom.

So I say, if you want to eat a box of chocolates watching Britain's Got Talent on a Saturday night after a hard week being you, then bloody do it.  That makes you a success story right there, not a failure.  Honestly, Samantha you're missing out here.

And as for dating, well what can I say. I may not be the EHarmony equivalent of a celebrity chef ready meal, I like to think I'm more successful as a Lidl tin of budget beans.  Men, please form an orderly queue.

Social media trollop seeks old fashioned romance. Apply within...

Hiya,

It's been a while dearest friend(s) since I last blogged. I know, all three of you will have missed me, I can tell.

I'd like to say that since July 2012 I have lived a life of excessive excitement. I would like to say that...but it hasn't.  It has, however, been six months of finding my groove in life and enjoying it.

Is it me or has Valentines Day come around far to quickly this year? It's the day after Ash Wednesday, so if you're giving chocolate up for lent (like me, amongst many other things) then you're screwed if you get given chocolates for Valentines Day...which I won't be, being a spinster of this parish.  You never know though Michael Fassbender may come to his senses and turn up on my doorstep me clad in my chic casual day wear of pyjamas and birds nest hair (I know, I really am selling myself here) and present me with flowers, chocolates and sweep me out of my slippers into a beautiful embrace. I'm prepared to break any self imposed chocolate ban if it means I can share my ferrero rocher with him....that is NOT at euphemism, filth!

But I was thinking today, whatever happened to proper old fashioned romance? I love social media. I am a self-confessed fully fledged social media trollop. I love Twitter, I really do. I have Facebook. I've got a profile on LinkedIn (it needs filling out a bit), I've pinned on Pinterest and I blog. I appreciate there's more social media out there than I can wave my smartphone at but I can't do it all.  Some of it I just can't be bothered with but I adore it nonetheless.  So, it saddens me and leaves me heavy of heart that social media is taking the place of proper face to face romance.

I regularly see posts on FB, Twitter and the like with couples declaring their love to each other. You live in the same house and sleep in the same bed, surely that would be the ideal time to mention it.  Or just as you've come in from taking out the bins - you're feeling a bit smushy with love so you say it as you're wiping a bit of mashed potato off your jeans, from when you emptied the bin. 

Call me old fashioned...or radical, but why do you have to share your declarations of love with a bunch of people who about 97% of which wouldn't recognise you if you tripped over them at a bus stop.  Say it to the person it's meant for not the 346 people it's not.

Now, you probably think I have the emotional capacity of a damp house brick and the soul of a dead wasp, but rest assured I adore romance. For someone to stand in front of me and tell me they love me (or even just like me, more than just a friend) makes me melt. It hasn't happened recently I admit and for those who read my twitter, will know I have STILL not given shop boy my number and therefore, am unable to execute said utterings of love and devotion until I do so and we have been on at least one date. A brief flirt over the lottery terminal on a Saturday night is not tantamount to hedonistic romance.  I appreciate, I need to get a grip and get this situation sorted.

But in the meantime, let's try and bring back old fashioned romance.

A lovely friend of mine was reading a book of anonymous love letters last week and we both ooh'd and ahh'd at how romantic it was. YES, write a love letter.  Did Jane Austen use emoticons? No, no she didn't.

I know you're all probably telling me to wind my neck in and how you share your love is your business.  It is, I am just merely voicing my lonely spinster (get out the violins) opinion.

So, Michael Fassbender, if you read this before the 14th Feb a box of ferrero rocher and some red roses would do very nicely and I'll make sure I'm dressed with my hair done.

A Day to Remember....

I graduated today.  Yup, I am now officially a BA (Hons) in English Literature with Creative Writing type person.  I am qualified to read books and write sentences. Excellent!!

I'm not going to bore you with the day to day details about the last three years, but I will say I have spent them with a group of people who I can honestly say have made my whole university experience the most special and fantastic three years I could've wished for.  I have learnt so much from every single one of them...some of the things I've learnt would honestly make your hair curl and if the topics ever turned up in a pub quiz you can be a sure as eggs is eggs I'd be able to answer them....?!

I don't normally go in for huge declarations of sentimentality and smush but today I'm feeling emotional so I'm bucking my own trend.  I am proud that I've made my parents even more proud of me than they are already, because I've followed my dream and succeeded (with a lot of blood, sweat, tears, stress, hysteria, post-it flags, highlighters, tea and chocolate along the way).

Those who know me know that my love of an 80's mix tape quite literally is what gets my excitement level past shoes on the 'many things I like in life' scale and that's what this whole experience can be compared to, a mix tape.  I've read books that would never have given my bookshelf dust space before 2009, but I can now add to my top 10 best reads list are; The History Boys, Mrs Dalloway, Harriet Frean and Generation X to name but many. Ok, so it would be longer than a top 10 list but you get my drift.

I would like to make a special mention though to Lisa.  We met on our first day stood in the queue next to each other for enrollment and we were sat next to each other in graduation today, it's like the bread at either end of our degree sandwich - shit analogy I know, sorry.

So here it is, my choice of two songs which I think sums up everything.  I'm going to shut up now and just let the music speak for itself...turn it up loud, I insist ;-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z77hrg7pFN0