The International Women’s Day shindig yesterday was good; I missed a meditation by Brahma Kumaris (not sure what I think of those guys) but caught a discussion on art therapy which sounded good; one person had recovered from major surgery through art and another had used it to deal with trauma. Then there was Indian stick dancing which is a little like Morris dancing only with saris instead of bells and handkerchiefs, after which they served a delicious thali with potato curry, rice, chappatis, pickle and raita followed by the traditional Indian After-Eight mint. After which I came home and basically messed around all afternoon because my head wasn’t in the right place to work. I’m making up for it by starting an hour earlier today.
The work ethic is nagging me right now, as it often does. Get up earlier! Work harder! No slacking! It has its uses but the WE (as I call it now we’re closely acquainted) is a fickle friend, I find. It can be helpful but if you’re not careful it will become your master rather than your servant, causing you to cudgel your brains and to regard every moment you’re not actually putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard, as a moment wasted. This is a mistake; the brain needs time for wool-gathering, thinking and planning – much goes on under the surface which cannot be quantified or assessed in any way, not until long afterwards and maybe not even then. This is why a Gradgrindian approach to education is such a mistake – but don’t get me started on that.
Yesterday I went swimming and thence to visit Ratae – but right now the question I’m asking myself is, Why haven’t I seen the Lost King? It came out 2 years ago, starring Steve Coogan as the university academic Richard Taylor who was in charge of the Richard III dig. (OH says we have seen it but I don’t remember – such are the trials of memory loss.) Anyway, the said Richard Taylor is apparently suing the film makers – and Steve Coogan personally – for how he is portrayed. I’m not sure what I think about that; on the one hand film makers have to tell a story and it obviously suited their narrative to show him as a patronising misogynist set against Sally Hawkins’ Phillipa Langley of the Richard III society. I can’t think of anyone better to play this slightly dotty Ricardian than Sally Hawkins, who is delightful as the weird, wonderful and kind-hearted Mrs Brown in the Paddington films. But on the other hand, do makers of fact-based fiction have a responsibility to tell the truth about their subjects, particularly if they’re still living? There’s a tension between these two and honestly I can’t decide. Anyway, here’s the story:
And that was yesterday. I managed twenty lengths in the pool, mostly without stopping, after which I felt totally knackered. But in a good way. Today I shall be mostly… agonising over the novel I’m trying to write.
Kirk out
Sarada Gray 
I haven’t seen the film you mention; and being a republican, as I am, I doubt whether I’d go out of my way to see it, notwithstanding the presence of its 2 stars, both of whom I respect as actors, but I do think makers of fact-based fiction have a responsibility to tell the truth about their subjects, especially if they’re still living: if not, they leave themselves liable for litigation, as appears to be the case here. Cheers, Jon.
Yh it’s an interesting question and on the whole I agree, especially since there’s a tendency with a biopic to think you’re being given the ‘inside scoop’. My interest in the film is that I was living in Leicester at the time, barely a stone’s throw from where he was found. It’s also a fascinating story. I believe Richard III was the last king to lead soldiers into battle: if Prime Ministers had to do that now we’d have a lot fewer wars