Damn! Another doozy. Bridget’s knowledge that the Thatchers of the world didn’t know men like her dad existed! Her hope that he never realizes this. Love your characters, my friend.
Perfect setup with her dad’s futile, obsessive preparations as a sort of pathetic Act 1 to Bridget’s coming experiences with women who are out there physically working to stop the madness. His private hoarding contrasted with their very public *hell no* to the same powerful leaders who don’t give a shit about her dad or anyone. What’s a bit of collateral damage among friends?)
You know it's funny - we had bomb drills in school (also fire drills and earthquake drills - California, you know) but I don't think we actually knew what kind of bombs. Since my mother called farts "gas bombs" I distinctly remember thinking they were related.
Bridget's father puts me in mind of Charles Pooter from The Diary of a Nobody. I admire how deftly you create sympathy for him despite the aburdity of his belief in the leaflet.
I'm also tempted to find a wider point here about the dangers of taking any text too literally...
Please find it! I managed to get hold of an original copy of that booklet. When I get back to the UK, I'll photograph the graphics. They are jaw dropping in their insult.
You can really get rolling Eleanor, slowing for the tiny detail without disrupting the shape of the big wave. I dug the line about the mom having gone to church one way and having come back another (as if God had given her the green light to listen to her husband). Great. That's how life is.
I grew up in Brazil in the 80s and we had none of this paranoia. We simply didn't exist in the narrative of countries that would be bombed, so it's fascinating for me to read this work Eleanor. I love the details you are drawing out of that time's paranoia, and it's also making me think of WWII and my dad's family in Birmingham (who had a shelter in their garden, and who lost relatives to bombs.) I guess something about WWII persisted in the English psyche. Bridget's dad would have been born during WWII or soon after?
Hilarious... a rehearsal of correct pooing during a nuclear holocaust while sadly realizing her dad has no idea global leaders couldn't give a toss about any of them... that this is all just faux-busy-work to keep them occupied. He's perfectly manifested with his cloudy eye that Bridget tries to imagine seeing through. Love it.
Paulie's perfect proper - a principal part of prepping is practising your poo performance.
Bridget highly perceptive - very few children her age would suspect the truth about those such as Reagan and Thatcher and Heseltine, I think. I didn't get a glimmer of it until I was 16 or so.
I think it’s just the moment when she realises all adults are stupid. It’s her turning point, the resulting fear stepped in shame and covered by I-don’t-care.
This is so charming, Eleanor. (I know it’s serious, too.)
So pleased 😊
😀
I had a lot of fun with the research…
Damn! Another doozy. Bridget’s knowledge that the Thatchers of the world didn’t know men like her dad existed! Her hope that he never realizes this. Love your characters, my friend.
It always amazes me how they appear
Perfect setup with her dad’s futile, obsessive preparations as a sort of pathetic Act 1 to Bridget’s coming experiences with women who are out there physically working to stop the madness. His private hoarding contrasted with their very public *hell no* to the same powerful leaders who don’t give a shit about her dad or anyone. What’s a bit of collateral damage among friends?)
🙌🏻
You know it's funny - we had bomb drills in school (also fire drills and earthquake drills - California, you know) but I don't think we actually knew what kind of bombs. Since my mother called farts "gas bombs" I distinctly remember thinking they were related.
Ha! Funny and also terribly not funny.
Bridget's father puts me in mind of Charles Pooter from The Diary of a Nobody. I admire how deftly you create sympathy for him despite the aburdity of his belief in the leaflet.
I'm also tempted to find a wider point here about the dangers of taking any text too literally...
Please find it! I managed to get hold of an original copy of that booklet. When I get back to the UK, I'll photograph the graphics. They are jaw dropping in their insult.
I recall drills to get under our desks in school--as if that would have helped.
madness, or worse, denial.
You can really get rolling Eleanor, slowing for the tiny detail without disrupting the shape of the big wave. I dug the line about the mom having gone to church one way and having come back another (as if God had given her the green light to listen to her husband). Great. That's how life is.
Thanks, Tommy. From one who knows, it means a lot.
"And what about the cat?" They got a way of making it : )
I grew up in Brazil in the 80s and we had none of this paranoia. We simply didn't exist in the narrative of countries that would be bombed, so it's fascinating for me to read this work Eleanor. I love the details you are drawing out of that time's paranoia, and it's also making me think of WWII and my dad's family in Birmingham (who had a shelter in their garden, and who lost relatives to bombs.) I guess something about WWII persisted in the English psyche. Bridget's dad would have been born during WWII or soon after?
That’s right, about the paranoia persisting from the war. And he’s old enough to remember it.
Hilarious... a rehearsal of correct pooing during a nuclear holocaust while sadly realizing her dad has no idea global leaders couldn't give a toss about any of them... that this is all just faux-busy-work to keep them occupied. He's perfectly manifested with his cloudy eye that Bridget tries to imagine seeing through. Love it.
Thanks ☺️
the 'run through invisible killer dust' is so horribly funny 🤣 its like everyone is delusional but she sees through it all... so exciting
🙌
Paulie's perfect proper - a principal part of prepping is practising your poo performance.
Bridget highly perceptive - very few children her age would suspect the truth about those such as Reagan and Thatcher and Heseltine, I think. I didn't get a glimmer of it until I was 16 or so.
I think it’s just the moment when she realises all adults are stupid. It’s her turning point, the resulting fear stepped in shame and covered by I-don’t-care.