I'm finally caught up :) It's been such a joy catching up with this new novel, Eleanor! The descriptions are so vivid, especially the tactile imagery. I especially loved the paragraph starting with: "But no one was listening to Kate Hilperton." Can't wait to see where this goes!
Thinking about that fence, and the vivid way you depicted it, almost feels like a work of art. Women never fail to tell stories, take a stand, move mountains, AND make it look and sound and smell beautiful in the process.
This was one of the remarkable aspects of Greenham, that they made protest creative. You wait till you music. It was all about song and creative disruption. I’ll be posting YouTube videos so you can hear…
That photograph and its paragraph are a master class. I’ve just been thinking of the dehumanizing tendency of institutions, the way they force messy reality into absolutes and abstractions. Versus the specificity of real people’s actual lives. That photo of two children, set in contrast to the void of pavement on the other side of the fence, is a perfect embodiment of that tension.
I'm enjoying Bridget's interior dialogue. How she's frightened at being left behind so she doesn't use the bathroom, how she's embarrassed by her teacher wearing jeans, and her scoffing at her teacher's embarrassment about using the headmaster's first name. All rings true of a teenage mind that's a swirl of contrasting reactions.
"Two worlds colliding at a chain link fence, earth to tarmac, women to squaddies who stood watching the wave that brought Bridget with it, her hands reaching forward, her fingers curling around metal." I love the way the two worlds are shown as colliding, the opposition between earth and tarmac. The forest and the airbase. It matches so well the schism between the official view and that of protesters. Such very different world views. And Bridget somehow positioned with neither.
This line caught me too. Brilliant, Eleanor. I can’t get enough of this story, of Bridget and her in her monologue, of all these women gathering in a moment of crisis.
Extraordinary. I had such a fierce sense of being there. Thank you.
☮️❤️
I'm finally caught up :) It's been such a joy catching up with this new novel, Eleanor! The descriptions are so vivid, especially the tactile imagery. I especially loved the paragraph starting with: "But no one was listening to Kate Hilperton." Can't wait to see where this goes!
So glad to have you on board x
Wow - a completely different world out there, just waiting for her to find it!
Thinking about that fence, and the vivid way you depicted it, almost feels like a work of art. Women never fail to tell stories, take a stand, move mountains, AND make it look and sound and smell beautiful in the process.
This was one of the remarkable aspects of Greenham, that they made protest creative. You wait till you music. It was all about song and creative disruption. I’ll be posting YouTube videos so you can hear…
Riveting!
🙌
That photograph and its paragraph are a master class. I’ve just been thinking of the dehumanizing tendency of institutions, the way they force messy reality into absolutes and abstractions. Versus the specificity of real people’s actual lives. That photo of two children, set in contrast to the void of pavement on the other side of the fence, is a perfect embodiment of that tension.
Yes, agree
That photo! Just amazing.
And now, since spending over a year immersed in Greenham, I see Greenham women everywhere.
This makes me so happy ❤️
And we're there, aren't we? Where all the women join. The archive photo alone, remarkable research, Eleanor.
We’re there.
Perhaps it had never stopped. What a line. And the paragraph before is such a beautiful movement and image....
You are teaching me to write.... and lots of very British words and ways.
I feel the same way
An honour to hear you say that, Bertus. Thank you
I'm enjoying Bridget's interior dialogue. How she's frightened at being left behind so she doesn't use the bathroom, how she's embarrassed by her teacher wearing jeans, and her scoffing at her teacher's embarrassment about using the headmaster's first name. All rings true of a teenage mind that's a swirl of contrasting reactions.
I remember so well this, of seeing teachers outside school, learning they had actual names, the whole thing…
"Two worlds colliding at a chain link fence, earth to tarmac, women to squaddies who stood watching the wave that brought Bridget with it, her hands reaching forward, her fingers curling around metal." I love the way the two worlds are shown as colliding, the opposition between earth and tarmac. The forest and the airbase. It matches so well the schism between the official view and that of protesters. Such very different world views. And Bridget somehow positioned with neither.
This line caught me too. Brilliant, Eleanor. I can’t get enough of this story, of Bridget and her in her monologue, of all these women gathering in a moment of crisis.
So glad you picked out that part. It felt magic writing it.