Your post got me thinking about other films and plays about the Armed Forces. In particular The Bofors Gun, which I thought was brilliant. I think for my generation brought up on The Dambusters and Reach for the Sky, the experience of fathers in World War 2 cast a long shadow. My father was in the navy during the war and treated the household like a ship, and, at times, three sons like ratings. I was very influenced by the exceptionalism and certainty of those films. PS Thanks for your own kind comments.
I don’t know The Bofors Gun - is it a play or a film?
Interesting that your father sometimes treated you as ratings. I know someone whose Dad was an Oxford don and he tells stories of being addressed at the family table as if he were a rather dim undergraduate!
Both - Wikipedia: ‘The Bofors Gun is a 1968 British drama film directed by Jack Gold and starring Nicol Williamson, David Warner, Ian Holm and John Thaw.
It was written by John McGrath based on his 1966 play Events While Guarding the Bofors Gun.
Set in 1954, during the British peacetime occupation of West Germany following the Second World War, it portrays the increasingly violent interaction between members of a squad of soldiers during a single night of guard duty.’
I’m not reading in order as I came to substack later but every time I have a moment I dip in. This really moved me. It’s really wonderful to get to know you more - what lay behind that warm lovely writer I was lucky enough to work with. It’s very inspiring too. How you trust yourself. Love it x
I'm catching up with all instalments in one go - a bit like a good box set binge. Really enjoying your story. The Englebert Humperdink episode with your Dad is almost as weird as Engelbert's name. And I thought you got over your 'huff' re the script really quickly and with a farily minimum amount of familial disruption. I sulk for much longer. Off to the next instalment now (can't for the life of me figure out who Laura Archer is/was. I started listening in 1980 when I was stuck at home pregnant with first baby....was it before that?)
I’m loving your current story. I meant to comment on last week’s piece and then real true life took over and I forgot. Sorry!
I was particularly fascinated by your experience as a child of the gold rush eighties. It was a brave piece of writing I thought. What happened to your family must have been exciting and then confusing and painful to you at the time, and not easy to revisit.
Did you watch the Walden/Thatcher drama on C4 last week? It brought so much of it back. And, oh, the clothes and the hair!
Huffy is inevitable I think, wherever the criticism is coming from. When I got negative notes from script editors (there were always some!) I was always huffy at first, even if I didn’t show it. (Apols to all the lovely script eds who might be reading this) It’s a form of protecting the emotions I think to give the brain time to catch up and do some thinking and decide which notes are helpful and which are not.
Sometimes though - as with The Last Waltz - the only thing to do is to use a first draft as a sort of research document and start again.
Sigh.
Thank you for reading the piece Sharon and for commenting.
Isn’t it funny Gillian, how a loved one’s feedback, if negative, is often refuted? (I get huffy, tell my husband he’s wrong, and then eventually concede that he’s right) Cue the much needed improvement :)
It must have taken courage to bin that first draft, Gillian.
Looking back at what a parent thought would be good for us is so telling, isn't it? Being criticised for having your nose in a book is very Matilda. Must have happened to so many of us. I'm glad you knew your own mind!
My adult son was lamenting the other day that he'd never had dance lessons as a child. Biggest eye-roll from me. "I did ask! You always said no!" (I was dance mad, so was hoping at least one of my children would be keen. But no. And I believed them!)
That first draft, Wendy, really was a lump of lead. I think I was overawed by the Royal Court and tried too hard to do something ’good’ that would impress them.
As for my father - I’m not sure he genuinely thought it would be good for me to go on the Engelbert jolly. I hope he did.
Yes, it must have been a really good lesson in not trying too hard, rewriting that script, Gillian.
I was fascinated by the name Engelbert Humperdinck, but disappointed by his music. (There was a time when you couldn't escape his easy-listening tones on TV and radio.)
I've told my son it's never too late to learn to dance. I mean, he's not going to be Baryshnikov at this stage, but that's not his ambition. He's a good mover, anyway!
I don't know what it is about book-reading that parents, even the bookish ones, find threatening. And a whole concert of Engelbert Humperdinck, how did you ever survive that!?
Your post got me thinking about other films and plays about the Armed Forces. In particular The Bofors Gun, which I thought was brilliant. I think for my generation brought up on The Dambusters and Reach for the Sky, the experience of fathers in World War 2 cast a long shadow. My father was in the navy during the war and treated the household like a ship, and, at times, three sons like ratings. I was very influenced by the exceptionalism and certainty of those films. PS Thanks for your own kind comments.
I don’t know The Bofors Gun - is it a play or a film?
Interesting that your father sometimes treated you as ratings. I know someone whose Dad was an Oxford don and he tells stories of being addressed at the family table as if he were a rather dim undergraduate!
Both - Wikipedia: ‘The Bofors Gun is a 1968 British drama film directed by Jack Gold and starring Nicol Williamson, David Warner, Ian Holm and John Thaw.
It was written by John McGrath based on his 1966 play Events While Guarding the Bofors Gun.
Set in 1954, during the British peacetime occupation of West Germany following the Second World War, it portrays the increasingly violent interaction between members of a squad of soldiers during a single night of guard duty.’
Thank you. I’ll try to track down a script.
Oh, Suzanne, thank you for this. You are a kind and generous human. I count myself lucky to have worked with you too.
I’m not reading in order as I came to substack later but every time I have a moment I dip in. This really moved me. It’s really wonderful to get to know you more - what lay behind that warm lovely writer I was lucky enough to work with. It’s very inspiring too. How you trust yourself. Love it x
I'm catching up with all instalments in one go - a bit like a good box set binge. Really enjoying your story. The Englebert Humperdink episode with your Dad is almost as weird as Engelbert's name. And I thought you got over your 'huff' re the script really quickly and with a farily minimum amount of familial disruption. I sulk for much longer. Off to the next instalment now (can't for the life of me figure out who Laura Archer is/was. I started listening in 1980 when I was stuck at home pregnant with first baby....was it before that?)
I love the gradual pace of this Gillian, and the mentions of EastEnders episodes in the background, knowing that you'd later write them.
I've found feedback from family to be the most stinging (if it's critical), but probably the most effective for that reason.
Also interesting to read about the 'thinking too much' aspect.
Fascinating to be on this journey with you!
Thank you so much Faith.
I’m loving your current story. I meant to comment on last week’s piece and then real true life took over and I forgot. Sorry!
I was particularly fascinated by your experience as a child of the gold rush eighties. It was a brave piece of writing I thought. What happened to your family must have been exciting and then confusing and painful to you at the time, and not easy to revisit.
Did you watch the Walden/Thatcher drama on C4 last week? It brought so much of it back. And, oh, the clothes and the hair!
Huffy is inevitable I think, wherever the criticism is coming from. When I got negative notes from script editors (there were always some!) I was always huffy at first, even if I didn’t show it. (Apols to all the lovely script eds who might be reading this) It’s a form of protecting the emotions I think to give the brain time to catch up and do some thinking and decide which notes are helpful and which are not.
Sometimes though - as with The Last Waltz - the only thing to do is to use a first draft as a sort of research document and start again.
Sigh.
Thank you for reading the piece Sharon and for commenting.
wonderful to see photo of your parents. I see you in your Mum.
Interesting too, to hear how the relationship with your Dad changed....
Very poignant.
Isn’t it funny Gillian, how a loved one’s feedback, if negative, is often refuted? (I get huffy, tell my husband he’s wrong, and then eventually concede that he’s right) Cue the much needed improvement :)
Thank you Portia - you made me laugh!
The concert experience was -
More about that next week!
Thank you again.
It must have taken courage to bin that first draft, Gillian.
Looking back at what a parent thought would be good for us is so telling, isn't it? Being criticised for having your nose in a book is very Matilda. Must have happened to so many of us. I'm glad you knew your own mind!
My adult son was lamenting the other day that he'd never had dance lessons as a child. Biggest eye-roll from me. "I did ask! You always said no!" (I was dance mad, so was hoping at least one of my children would be keen. But no. And I believed them!)
That first draft, Wendy, really was a lump of lead. I think I was overawed by the Royal Court and tried too hard to do something ’good’ that would impress them.
As for my father - I’m not sure he genuinely thought it would be good for me to go on the Engelbert jolly. I hope he did.
More Engelbert next week!
Do hope your son has forgiven you!
Yes, it must have been a really good lesson in not trying too hard, rewriting that script, Gillian.
I was fascinated by the name Engelbert Humperdinck, but disappointed by his music. (There was a time when you couldn't escape his easy-listening tones on TV and radio.)
I've told my son it's never too late to learn to dance. I mean, he's not going to be Baryshnikov at this stage, but that's not his ambition. He's a good mover, anyway!
I don't know what it is about book-reading that parents, even the bookish ones, find threatening. And a whole concert of Engelbert Humperdinck, how did you ever survive that!?
Very moving Gillian - your early life so much of which invests your writing with its humanity.
Thank you Sue. This means a lot x