Memoir writing - with reference to 'A voice of Discontent'

Published by: mike on 6th Jun 2009 | View all blogs by mike

There are some well written memoirs on 'Word Cloud' .
i enjoyed reading Jennifer Kelsey's 'A voice of Discontent' in which she describes the occupations that were available to women at the time - governess, paid companion etc.  
These situations  lasted well into this century.  A great aunt  of mine scribbled all she could remember of her life into as pile of red notebooks.  ( This was in the 1960's when she was bedridden.  She lived in south London )  
She does record all these jobs in her notebooks.   Some years ago I tried to turn these scribblings into a narrative of some sort.   The notebooks were not intended for publication and are just scrawls.  I was looking though the narrative as there might be something of interest to Jennifer 'mockingbird' and came across a splendid recollection of a childhood visit to the 'Crystal Palace'
I think it is just as good a description as more illustrious visits but what is also recollected is the value of the Crystal Palace'  meant to  an ordinary South London family.      What do you think?  
These family memoirs can be valuable.  

All my brothers went to sea.    Hugh  fell overboard coming home from  Australia when he was only a lad of seventeen.  This dreadful calamity bought a deal of sorrow to my mother and father.   I remember a Captain Bacon coming to see them - also to bring his sea-chest - which must have been very harrowing.  

I am rather mixing things up in this diary by going backwards and forwards again.    But things occur in fits and starts with me.   Some things are vivid and others remain in shadow.

Going to the Crystal Palace was a startling event.    It happened when my Aunt Clara and  Uncle Tom came over from Ireland and must have stayed with us at ‘Einhallow’.   I  recollect the day which had been full of sunshine.   It was  spring  and my uncle had brought me a large balloon which I carried.  

The Palace was shining like Crystal,  bands were playing and some of the Royal Family were there.

Thousands of people walked too and fro amongst the fine statuary and fountains played with water.   Palm trees were growing under glass and there were tiers and banks of flowers outside.    Womens’  clothes were soft and of the loveliest colours and a monstrous organ sent a wandering thread of music though everything.  

  A great, glass, celestial globe glittered in the sunshine and at night was lighted up with hundreds and thousands of coloured lights.   We went into the aviaries and saw remarkable birds of Paradise. 

Many were the times I was going to have happy days at the Crystal Palace.   When I grew up I had a season ticket and joined the art classes which were held once a week.     We had to either paint or draw from the nude and a model sat for the students one hour at a stretch.     I used to sit still until the hour was nearly up and once the master said:  “Waiting for inspiration?”

At the last possible moment I dashed in the figure and a lot of foliage in the background and  once Miss Davis,  the model,  came from her pedestal and said,  “Let me see!   I’ve been watching you - indeed,  you must be truly inspired before you can work.”

The Crystal Palace was the one place I loved to be and for years I trod the marble steps and wandered in the delightful grounds.    

Thursday nights were fireworks nights and if I was not actually in the Palace,  I would be somewhere in sight of it and watch the ‘golden rain’ and the rockets which could be seen for miles and miles.  

  The set pieces one had to be near to see - with thousands and thousands of people sitting on the tiers of steps leading to the grounds.    Sometimes these pieces would be of Queen Victoria and her consort sitting at a table with her children around her and the band would play ‘God Save the Queen’.

After we left that lovely countryside place at Brasted,  where my father had died,  my mother bought a house called ‘Hillside’ near the Crystal Palace and a lot happened there which I hope to bring in later. 

My mother was restless and sold her houses again and again.   We moved from ‘Hillside’ to ‘Clifton Villa’ - Clifton Road, South Norwood - but we would still be in sight of the Crystal Palace.

Comments

4 Comments

  • Talla
    by Talla 3 years ago
    I honestly think we can learn from historical writings. I must be old-fashioned but when something is written in the Victorian style, I'm a sucker for it. These 'journal jottings' are priceless and yes, you must try and do something with them. It would be criminal to let them stay in storage and gather dust; bring them out and let's all enjoy them. Love the vivid descriptions.
    Lulu-May.
  • mike
    by mike 3 years ago
    Dear Lulu,
    Some years ago i thought of printing some copies of the memories to send round to people who remembered great aunt Nell. but I needed so few copies. I just photocopied what i had done and posted it to them. I also put them on CD. There are so many ways of duplicating material. Now anybody who is interested can download them from 'the Internet' but I doubt if anyone does so outside her family.
  • Caducean Whisks
    by Caducean Whisks 3 years ago
    That was a fascinating read, Mike. About what year are we talking, or have you no idea at all? Which year was your great-aunt born? She writes well, given that these were, as you say, jottings of memories. Thanks for posting them up.
  • mockingbird
    by mockingbird 3 years ago
    Guess what Mike, I am very interested. You said the information can be downloaded - please tell me more..... and do you have your great aunts dates?

    You are such a mine of information -the rate youre going I am going to have to accredit you in my next book!! and thank you for the recommendation too - always appreciated!
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