March 2019 – Jack Sanger

Unkind cutting

I haven’t written a blog for some time and with this one I am breaking my flow of childhood reminiscences. I was talking on Skype to my son in Japan. I said that once you hit seventy you have a prevailing picture of the Grim Reaper, scythe glittering in the sunshine, walking down a long… Know More
Read more: Unkind cutting
I am a Camera

I was an advisor to the British Board of Film Classification for ten years, bridging the twentieth and twenty first centuries, a member of a lay panel that debated public concerns regarding children’s viewing habits, trying to establish guidelines that might help parents. Everyone’s life has threads that only become apparent in retrospect. This one… Know More
Read more: I am a Camera
The Day Trip

‘Oh where are we going,’ asked the children, staring wide-eyed at the driver.‘Far, far away,’ came his wicked-smiling response.‘Will there be sweeties?’ They asked as one.‘Everything you always wanted. Just settle down and don’t ask questions.’ With that he turned to the steering wheel and the doors closed with a metallic clang. The vehicle grunted… Know More
Read more: The Day Trip
Looking for Eric

I cannot be compared to Eric Cantona, either as a boy or a man. I would never have progressed beyond the school football team and I never did karate. But I like to think I am a better philosopher. I might even be a better actor. Anyway, bridging to the last blog-post and the search… Know More
Read more: Looking for Eric
Autobiography: to have been or not to have been

I tweeted recently (@profjacksanger) that ‘The past is but a blank page on which the historian writes fiction.’ In many ways, the business of autobiography follows suit. We re-write our histories incrementally as our lives progress so that they fit and augment our circumstances at the time of writing. Whether we recognise it or not,… Know More
Read more: Autobiography: to have been or not to have been
The fruit of knowledge

There are windows in our lives that open momentarily and shut forever. They reveal where we have come from and point to where we will eventually go. Like angels balanced on the points of pins, we are given a gift of knowing and then it is taken away from us. We are young and in… Know More
Read more: The fruit of knowledge
Sanity not vanity in the author

Ok, think about a bordello. Think about one of its rooms. Think about what happens inside it in microscopic detail. There is a sperm with its single imperative. Where’s the egg? Oh there it is. Isn’t it huge? Like a sun about to supernova. It must beat its tail harder. It’s a marathon and a… Know More
Read more: Sanity not vanity in the author
A Room With Two Views

I am in Soho, London. The sun is bright but does nothing to mask the purgatory of the city’s coagulated humanity. I know that I must be seeing it like a Martian because I have been a mountain man for months. I have overwintered beside a wood burning stove as the snow piled ever higher… Know More
Read more: A Room With Two Views
This little site of mine …long may it shine

I sometimes believe in reincarnation. I look at a tree and think, “That’s a bit like me,” that mountain ash. Or, imagining my future self as a hawk. Or experiencing the conundrum of seeing myself suddenly as another human being; precipitated by a child’s eyes or bearing. A life lived can often result in these… Know More
Read more: This little site of mine …long may it shine
A Peeping Tom and War Poetry

Bingo, a peeping tom and war poetry It would be hard for any technology-using child of the 21st century to put themselves in my place in 1953. Earlier posts on this site draw pictures of an innocent time of nesting, damming streams, fantasy medievalism with lances and shields, a tiny primary school of 23 pupils… Know More
Read more: A Peeping Tom and War Poetry

Jack’s Blog