Sexy settings…

09 +00002013-01-04T16:50:09+00:0031 2012 § 6 Comments

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you will know that settings are important to my writing.  The ones that I write about are often taken from life, though of course adapted or otherwise presented through a glass, darkly.  I count myself fortunate in having a good memory – for things that interest me!  If they don’t, I am at a loss; I am completely baffled by our motorway systems, for example.  I can often recall in vivid detail people and events from a long way back in the past.  I’m also very lucky that I have sometimes been the passive and curious observer of some very interesting settings, a couple of which I’ll share here:

When I was a postgraduate student, I lived in a flat in Brudenell Road in Leeds, which was (and still is) quite a run-down area.  My room overlooked a ginnel (local dialect for an alley or a snicket!), beyond which were the back doors of a row of terraced houses.   A great many men seemed to come and go at all hours of the day to the one immediately opposite my window.  Occasionally, a woman appeared, framed in the doorway and wearing her dressing-gown.  Being a naïve girl from Lincolnshire, I needed a boyfriend to tell me that it was what he called a ‘knocking-shop’.  I watched the to-ings and fro-ings all the more avidly after this.

Just before Christmas, my flat-mate’s mother came for shopping in Leeds and stayed for the night.  She and my flatmate slept in my room, which had a double bed, and I moved into the other one.  In the morning, when her mother appeared, she was haggard and exhausted.  “Thank goodness you weren’t sleeping in there last night,” she said. “There was a police raid on that place over the road, and we didn’t get a wink of sleep.”  Damn!  Damn!  Damn!


Much more recently, I made a short visit to Russia to conduct some seminars for a group of Russian librarians who worked for a charity which had been set up to supply e-books to poor Russian students.  The seminars lasted for several days.  The charity had arranged for us to stay at a conference complex about thirty miles outside Moscow, explaining that, if we met in Moscow itself, the librarians ‘would only try to escape’.  I was somewhat alarmed by this until I realised that it meant only that they might try to do a bunk from the seminars, lured by the attractions of the city.  Nevertheless, the conference centre was quite an intimidating place.  It had been an old KGB sanatorium and was still guarded by troops (who, I was fascinated to observe, wore different coloured combats every day – while I was there, they were resplendent successively in blue, brown and green).  The rooms in the centre were luxury itself.  Not much austerity seems to have been practised by the KGB!  The carpets were all knee-deep wool pile, and all the bedrooms had fantastic marbled bathrooms.  The food was a little strange:  Meals consisted of many courses, almost every one featuring pork.  There was no wine, but every night new bottles of brandy and vodka were placed on each table (which seated four people).  In the reception area, a huge parrot with exotic plumage sat on a perch, neither shackled nor perturbed by the constant stream of human traffic.  There were extensive grounds, bounded by the river Moskva.  I walked down to the river one day with one of the librarians.  An old sign leaned crookedly on the bank.  “What does that mean?” I asked.  “Oh,” he said.  “It says that anyone trying to swim across the river will be shot!”

I honestly haven’t made a word of this up!  It is raw material, still to be worked on by passing it through the dark glass.  I may even have to tone it down, in the interests of credibility.

§ 6 Responses to Sexy settings…

  • Anabel Marsh says:

    Once again, your blog resonates with me. The student flats where I met my husband were at the end of a similar street in Sheffield. On the way back from the supermarket he would often be asked if he “wanted to do business”. He was tempted to offer them a yoghurt for sale, but fortunately resisted.

    We once attended a “banquet” at a conference near St Petersburg in the House of Cinematographers. They obviously were well down the pecking order from the KGB. The whole experience was awful, but funny, and we dined out on the story for months. Luckily for you, it’s too long to tell here!

    • Fascinating! ‘too long to tell it here’? Does WordPress have a comment word limit? The detail I’m sure would interest me! There have been lots of coincidences since I took up blogging and social networking; another is that we were in Berlin in 2012, too. What a wonderful city – full of experience; the Festival of Lights was on and made the evenings even more exciting. As a matter of fact, the picture of the bag and boots in my first blog post was taken in a Berlin street.
      Whatever you do with your blogs, I hope the photographs keep coming! Good luck in this new year and may it be a happy one for you.

  • Tabitha says:

    I have never read a novel by someone I knew before, and reading ‘In the Family’ (which I loved and read over two evenings) I had the strange experience of recognising a few names (I won’t say which ones), and possibly a few references and settings (the cafe at Waterloo station, the friend someone stays the night with in Surbiton to avoid an early train journey, among others), from knowing the author. Or possibly I imagined it…

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