Review of Dissolution by C.J.Sansom
Blurb
It is 1537, a time of revolution that sees the greatest changes in England since 1066. Henry VIII has proclaimed himself Supreme Head of the Church. The country is waking up to savage new laws, rigged trials and the greatest network of informers ever seen. And under the orders of Thomas Cromwell, a team of commissioners is sent throughout the country to investigate the monasteries. There can only be one outcome: dissolution.
But on the Sussex coast, at the monastery of Scarnsea, events have spiralled out of control. Cromwell's Commissioner, Robin Singleton, has been found dead, his head severed from his body. His horrific murder is accompanied by equally sinister acts of sacrilege.
Matthew Shardlake, lawyer and long-time supporter of Reform, has been sent by Cromwell to uncover the truth behind the dark happenings at Scarnsea. But investigation soon forces Shardlake to question everything that he hears, and everything that he intrinsically believes ...
Review
This is the first book in CJ Sansom's Shardlake series and I would give it five stars.
Shardlake is a lawyer at the time of Henry VIII. He is not what one might call a traditional hero. He is a hunchback whose infirmity often troubles him. He is also regarded with suspicion and superstition by those around him, but he is a clever man.
C,J,Sansom has captured the period very well in this work. There is a very real fear amongst the people that the new Protestant religion is threatening them if they are not seen to fully embrace it. The characters he has created are very believable with all the foibles of humanity throughout the ages.
The book is very well written and moves along at a fast pace, carrying the reader along with it. There are clues as to the murderer if the reader can manage to piece things together. I didn't, and so was surprised at the ending.
I am looking forward to reading the next book in the series.
If anyone would like to make a guest appearance on my blog, you will be most welcome, Contact me on vivienne.sang@gmail.com
Tuesday, 9 August 2016
Tuesday, 2 August 2016
Whatever happened to the bilberry?
I was remembering the bilberries I used to buy from the market in Rochdale, England in the early 70s and got a desire for a bilberry pie. Nowhere can I find anyone who sells them, except for Amazon who sell dried ones.
The little purple berries are about half the size of their cousin, the blueberry, but are packed with so much more flavour. There is nothing quite like it. Imagine a blueberry, then concentrate its flavour into a volume about one quarter its size, then double the flavour for good measure. You might then have a slight idea of the pleasure of eating bilberries.
They were made into pies, jams or stewed and served with ice cream or cream Mmmm, delicious. Their sweet tartness bursts on the tongue like nothing else. I'm sorry, my American friends, but the blueberry is NOT a substitute, but is bland, squishy and watery in comparison.
Now don't get me wrong. I enjoy the occasional drink of blueberry juice or fresh blueberries in a fruit salad, it's just when I think to compare them with the bilberry I feel disappointed. I've been searching websites for pictures of bilberries, but there is confusion here and all the ones I could find were actually of blueberries. Some even said they're the same fruit!
Why has this delicious little fruit fallen out of favour? Who knows. I suspect it's something to do with the low-growing habit of the plant. Gathering bilberries is back-breaking work, and not one that many people would relish except for gathering a few wild ones for their own consumption.
They grow on heath and moorland. wild country where few go these days, when people don't move more than 50 yards from their cars and think themselves adventurous for driving up into the hills and walking so far. So people don't see these little beauties. Anyway, we have grown so far from nature that unless something comes in a neat package from a supermarket, many are afraid to gather the wild bounty of our hedgerows. (I don't see many people gathering blackberries from the hedges or picking mushrooms from the fields these days.)
I've picked wild stuff since I was a child. Going mushrooming was a delight. we quickly learned to recognise a delicious field mushroom, and to eat them fresh for breakfast, with egg and bacon, well, it makes my mouth water just to think of them. They, like the bilberries, burst with lovely mushroomy flavour.
To make a pie with blackberries you've gathered yourself is a pleasure. To be out in the countryside, listening to the birds singing and watching the butterflies and bees--there's nothing like it, quite apart from the health benefits of the walk.
I do see people gathering blackberries, but they are picking them from the roadside with lorries, cars and buses hurtling by and throwing up dust to coat them, Not to mention those lower down that I've seen people picking, just at dog pee level.
I've picked elderberries and made wine and jam from them, and the fluffy white umberellas of blossom also makes a lovely cordial as well as elderflower wine.
I've digressed from my original thought about bilberries. I long to eat another bilberry pie before I die, but they seem to be a forgotten fruit. Even Word is putting a red squiggly line underneath it everytime I write 'bilerry', but it doesn't under 'blueberry'.
Amazon's dried bilberries, at nearly £11 for 250g seems rather a lot. and one of their products is called 'blueberry juice (bilberry), which isn't the same thing at all. The only review of the dried bilberries says they are horrible.
I've looked on the websites of all the major British supermarkets and none of them stock even jars of the fruit, even though I've come across websites that say they do.
So if anyone out there knows of somewhere I can get them, please let me know. I'll be forever grateful.
Tuesday, 26 July 2016
Elven Evening Song from The Wolf Pack by V.M.Sang
On the way back from finding Sauvern's Sword, the companions travelled through the Elven homeland of Rindisillaran where they heard this song the elves sing every evening.
Elven Evening Song
‘Ah equillin ssishinisi
Qua vinillaquishio quibbrous
Ahoni na shar handollesno
As nas brollenores.
Ah equilin bellamana
Qua ssishinisi llanarones
As wma ronalliores
Shi nos Grillon prones.
Ah equilin dama Grillon
Pro llamella shilonores
As nos rellemorres
Drapo weyishores.
Yam shi Grillon yssilores
Grazlin everr nos pronores
Wama vinsho prolle-emo
Lli sha rallemorres.’
Translation
“Oh star of the evening
Shining brightly
You give us hope
In the deepening night.
Oh beauteous star
Who heralds the evening
You tell us all
That Grillon guards us
Oh Grillon’s star
As you sink westwards
Return again
To guard the dawn.
Ensure that Grillon
Through darkness keep us
Safe from all evil
Until the morn.”’
Tuesday, 19 July 2016
20 commonly mis-spelled words
Here are some commonly misspelled words in English.
Acceptable, not Acceptible
Accessible, not Accessable
Achieved, not Acheived
Acquire, not aquire
Analysis, not Analasis
Business, not Busness
Ceiling, not Cieling
Consistent, not Consistant
Definite, not Definate
Discipline, not Disipline
Exhilarate, not Exilarate
Exceed, not Exeed
Forfeit, not Forfit (or Forfiet)
February, not Febuary
Height, not hight (or hieght)
Heirarchy, not Hierarchy (or Hirarchy)
Independent, not Independant
Inoculate, not Innoculate
Leisure, not Liesure
Liaise, not Liase
English is a very odd language as far as spelling is concerned/ This is because it has words and roots from many other languages. There are still a few Celtic words, although not very many. Then the Romans came bringing Latin.
Latin was the language of scholars and it is only within living memory that it was a requirement to gain entry to Oxford and Cambridge Universities in England. The Roman Catholic Church used Latin in its services until comparatively recently, and many mottos are still in Latin.
After the Romans left these isles, we were invaded by Scandinavian. These brought their own languages with them. Today, in Scotland in particular, there are many words similar, if not the same, as those in the Scandinavian languages. Dialect words often very old and date back to those languages.
There were also the Saxons. they brought Germanic languages to this country and we have many words that are very similar to the German equivalent. An example is Mutter, meaning Mother, and Haus, meaning House.
After the Saxons came the Normans. They were, incidentally the last people to successfully invade these isles. This was in 1066. They brought French. The Normans became the ruling classes and spoke French. The workers spoke Anglo-Saxon. This explains why we have differences in the names of food we eat and the animals it comes from.
The French for a bull is Boeuf from which comes Beef. But in the field it is called a Bull, cow or in the plural, cattle.
The French for a sheep is Mouton, from which comes Mutton, but in the field it's still the old word, sheep.
The French for a calf is Veau from whence we get Veal.
You get the picture.
Then Dutch engineers were brought in to drain what is now the Fens in East Anglia and they brought words with them. The British Empire was a source of words too, especially India.
So our language is something of a hotch-potch, hence the different spellings and pronunciation.
I will add to these words in a future blog. I hope you find this useful.
Acceptable, not Acceptible
Accessible, not Accessable
Achieved, not Acheived
Acquire, not aquire
Analysis, not Analasis
Business, not Busness
Ceiling, not Cieling
Consistent, not Consistant
Definite, not Definate
Discipline, not Disipline
Exhilarate, not Exilarate
Exceed, not Exeed
Forfeit, not Forfit (or Forfiet)
February, not Febuary
Height, not hight (or hieght)
Heirarchy, not Hierarchy (or Hirarchy)
Independent, not Independant
Inoculate, not Innoculate
Leisure, not Liesure
Liaise, not Liase
English is a very odd language as far as spelling is concerned/ This is because it has words and roots from many other languages. There are still a few Celtic words, although not very many. Then the Romans came bringing Latin.
Latin was the language of scholars and it is only within living memory that it was a requirement to gain entry to Oxford and Cambridge Universities in England. The Roman Catholic Church used Latin in its services until comparatively recently, and many mottos are still in Latin.
After the Romans left these isles, we were invaded by Scandinavian. These brought their own languages with them. Today, in Scotland in particular, there are many words similar, if not the same, as those in the Scandinavian languages. Dialect words often very old and date back to those languages.
There were also the Saxons. they brought Germanic languages to this country and we have many words that are very similar to the German equivalent. An example is Mutter, meaning Mother, and Haus, meaning House.
After the Saxons came the Normans. They were, incidentally the last people to successfully invade these isles. This was in 1066. They brought French. The Normans became the ruling classes and spoke French. The workers spoke Anglo-Saxon. This explains why we have differences in the names of food we eat and the animals it comes from.
The French for a bull is Boeuf from which comes Beef. But in the field it is called a Bull, cow or in the plural, cattle.
The French for a sheep is Mouton, from which comes Mutton, but in the field it's still the old word, sheep.
The French for a calf is Veau from whence we get Veal.
You get the picture.
Then Dutch engineers were brought in to drain what is now the Fens in East Anglia and they brought words with them. The British Empire was a source of words too, especially India.
So our language is something of a hotch-potch, hence the different spellings and pronunciation.
I will add to these words in a future blog. I hope you find this useful.
Tuesday, 12 July 2016
Do you like snakes?
I'm sorry for the delay in today'w post. I seem to be very busy these days.
I saw a post on the blog of https://themelesswriting.com/ about her dislike, no fear, of snakes. I enjoyed it a lot and so I replied to her. Please visit her blog and read the article, and this is my reply to her.
Dear Themelesswriting. (I'm using the title of your blog because I don't know your name.)
I am a snake. There are a few things you should know about us before you want to destroy us completely. I am writing here to try to rectify some of your misconstrued ideas.
First of all, not all of us are poisonous, and of those of us that are, many won't actually kill you. The venom isn't strong enough to kill a creature your size.
We destroy many of the vermin that pester you. I mean rats and mice. (yum) Did you know that a single rat could have as many as 1 million descendants in only 18 months without some form of predation. We can get into those little corners where your pest controllers can't.
Rats and mice like the same things to eat as you, so they can devastate agriculture without some control. We can help greatly with that. So you won't go hungry as long as we're around.
We shed our skins, as you know, when they get a bit tight. These skins contain nutrients that are returned to the earth as they decay. As well as that, our shed skins help to protect other animals. the ground squirrel eats them, then licks its fur so it smells of rattlesnake. Predators then steer clear, thinking one of us is around. thus the little squirrel. whom I'm sure you like, lives a bit longer.
Birds too, sometimes hang the shed skins on their nests, thus keeping predators away, who think snakes are there. (not very bright, some of these predators.)
We are part of the ecology of the world. There are many food chains that get tangled into food webs. In those webs, we appear on different levels. Sometimes we are the ones who are eating others, but equally, we are often the eaten. (Not something I like to consider too much.) These food webs are what keeps life on this little planet of ours. Disrupt them at your peril. Oh, you're doing that quite successfully already, I forgot.
So we're food for many other things. Sometimes snakes will eat other snakes. (Horrid thought.) We're also eaten by mongooses (nasty little beasts) birds of prey (there's one actually called the snake eating eagle) all the different species of cat, coyotes, wild boar and even some frogs. Without us you might see a world without some of those creatures you actually like,
Finally, our venom. This is what frightens you, or at least most people. However, our venom is currently the subject of medical research. It has been used for lowering blood pressure, heart failure and could in the future be used to make a strong painkiller, and to help stroke victims as well as a possible cure for cancer. Do you want to forego these possibilities?
Your 'final solution' seems to me to be very nasty. I accept your fear of us. You aren't alone, but before you put this into practice, remember all I've said, and also that there are many of us who are harmless.
Oh, and before I go, You are so much bigger than most of us, and more powerful, and so we will generally run away rather than confront you. Usually we only attack if we feel threatened.
Have a nice day.
A Snake.
I saw a post on the blog of https://themelesswriting.com/ about her dislike, no fear, of snakes. I enjoyed it a lot and so I replied to her. Please visit her blog and read the article, and this is my reply to her.
Dear Themelesswriting. (I'm using the title of your blog because I don't know your name.)
I am a snake. There are a few things you should know about us before you want to destroy us completely. I am writing here to try to rectify some of your misconstrued ideas.
First of all, not all of us are poisonous, and of those of us that are, many won't actually kill you. The venom isn't strong enough to kill a creature your size.
We destroy many of the vermin that pester you. I mean rats and mice. (yum) Did you know that a single rat could have as many as 1 million descendants in only 18 months without some form of predation. We can get into those little corners where your pest controllers can't.
Rats and mice like the same things to eat as you, so they can devastate agriculture without some control. We can help greatly with that. So you won't go hungry as long as we're around.
We shed our skins, as you know, when they get a bit tight. These skins contain nutrients that are returned to the earth as they decay. As well as that, our shed skins help to protect other animals. the ground squirrel eats them, then licks its fur so it smells of rattlesnake. Predators then steer clear, thinking one of us is around. thus the little squirrel. whom I'm sure you like, lives a bit longer.
Birds too, sometimes hang the shed skins on their nests, thus keeping predators away, who think snakes are there. (not very bright, some of these predators.)
We are part of the ecology of the world. There are many food chains that get tangled into food webs. In those webs, we appear on different levels. Sometimes we are the ones who are eating others, but equally, we are often the eaten. (Not something I like to consider too much.) These food webs are what keeps life on this little planet of ours. Disrupt them at your peril. Oh, you're doing that quite successfully already, I forgot.
So we're food for many other things. Sometimes snakes will eat other snakes. (Horrid thought.) We're also eaten by mongooses (nasty little beasts) birds of prey (there's one actually called the snake eating eagle) all the different species of cat, coyotes, wild boar and even some frogs. Without us you might see a world without some of those creatures you actually like,
Finally, our venom. This is what frightens you, or at least most people. However, our venom is currently the subject of medical research. It has been used for lowering blood pressure, heart failure and could in the future be used to make a strong painkiller, and to help stroke victims as well as a possible cure for cancer. Do you want to forego these possibilities?
Your 'final solution' seems to me to be very nasty. I accept your fear of us. You aren't alone, but before you put this into practice, remember all I've said, and also that there are many of us who are harmless.
Oh, and before I go, You are so much bigger than most of us, and more powerful, and so we will generally run away rather than confront you. Usually we only attack if we feel threatened.
Have a nice day.
A Snake.
Friday, 8 July 2016
Vote for the title of my latest book
I am conducting a survey of the titles suggested by a variety of people for my book. Please vote below. I'll be posting another two in a day or two.
Which of the following books would you buy based solely on the title?
Tuesday, 5 July 2016
The Somme
I make no apologies for re-posting this poem. I wrote it 2 years
ago to commemorate the anniversary of the start of World War One. As
July 1st is the 100th anniversary of the terrible battle of the Somme, I
thought I'd post it again.
My Great Uncle Jim, whom I mention in the poem, came back too, but he died shortly afterwards from the results of gassing. The lady known as Auntie Polly, who was his fiancee at the time, never married, but the family always treated her as though they had been.
'Our Poor Willie' was also my great uncle. He was my maternal grandmother's brother. She always referred to him as 'our poor Willie,' but no one ever knew why.
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.
My Grandad went with Uncle Jim
And Our Poor Willie, too.
They sent them off, singing a hymn.
Grandad went to Gallipoli,
Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
Gas in trenches did kill him.
I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
Grandad with gun in hand.
A peaceful man, sent out to die.
He fought for us, for you and me
So we can live and so that we
Safely in our beds may lie.
Grandad came home, and Willie too,
But millions more did not.
Their duty they all had to do.
They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
Everything was caked in mud.
Yet in those fields the poppies grew.
The War to end all wars, they said,
So terrible were the deaths.
The youth of Europe all lay dead.
Yet 21 short years to come
Another war. Once more a gun
In young men’s hands brought death.
One hundred years have passed since then.
What have we learned? Not much!
Too many men are killing men.
Wars still abound around the world.
Bombs and missiles still are hurled
At those who disagree with them.
V.M.Sang
July 2014
I make no apologies for this poem actually rhyming and having rhythm. I'm afraid I'm not very appreciative of the modern poems that seem to me to be little different from prose.
No, poems don't have to rhyme. I've written blank verse myself, but they, in my rather old-fashioned opinion should have something, perhaps rhythm or something to set them apart from prose. I recently saw a 'poem' that wasn't even written in lines. So it was prose! No rhythm, no rhyme.
I also think that they should be comprehensible. Some modern ones seem just too weird. What's the point in writing something if no one understands it. This writing business is supposed to be about communication isn't it?
Anyway, feel free to comment. If I can receive your comments, which isn't always guaranteed on Blogger, I'll get back to you. I think I can only see comments from my circles in Google+. At least that used to be the case. Perhaps it's changed now. I've complained often enough to Google.
My Great Uncle Jim, whom I mention in the poem, came back too, but he died shortly afterwards from the results of gassing. The lady known as Auntie Polly, who was his fiancee at the time, never married, but the family always treated her as though they had been.
'Our Poor Willie' was also my great uncle. He was my maternal grandmother's brother. She always referred to him as 'our poor Willie,' but no one ever knew why.
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.I’ll never truly understand
How World War I began.
The death of Archduke Ferdinand
Started the deaths of many more
The young, the old, the rich, the poor.
All died with guns in hand.
My Grandad went with Uncle Jim
And Our Poor Willie, too.
They sent them off, singing a hymn.
Grandad went to Gallipoli,
Uncle Jim left his love, Polly.
Gas in trenches did kill him.
I cannot see, in my mind’s eye
Grandad with gun in hand.
A peaceful man, sent out to die.
He fought for us, for you and me
So we can live and so that we
Safely in our beds may lie.
Grandad came home, and Willie too,
But millions more did not.
Their duty they all had to do.
They died in fear, in noise, in blood.
Everything was caked in mud.
Yet in those fields the poppies grew.
The War to end all wars, they said,
So terrible were the deaths.
The youth of Europe all lay dead.
Yet 21 short years to come
Another war. Once more a gun
In young men’s hands brought death.
One hundred years have passed since then.
What have we learned? Not much!
Too many men are killing men.
Wars still abound around the world.
Bombs and missiles still are hurled
At those who disagree with them.
V.M.Sang
July 2014
I make no apologies for this poem actually rhyming and having rhythm. I'm afraid I'm not very appreciative of the modern poems that seem to me to be little different from prose.
No, poems don't have to rhyme. I've written blank verse myself, but they, in my rather old-fashioned opinion should have something, perhaps rhythm or something to set them apart from prose. I recently saw a 'poem' that wasn't even written in lines. So it was prose! No rhythm, no rhyme.
I also think that they should be comprehensible. Some modern ones seem just too weird. What's the point in writing something if no one understands it. This writing business is supposed to be about communication isn't it?
Anyway, feel free to comment. If I can receive your comments, which isn't always guaranteed on Blogger, I'll get back to you. I think I can only see comments from my circles in Google+. At least that used to be the case. Perhaps it's changed now. I've complained often enough to Google.
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