The Link Between Michael Moorcock & Ashley Jackson

Science Fiction and Fantasy author Michael Moorcock may not view himself as a world-builder, at least not in the same category as the Bronte sisters, but their fiction clearly influenced him. After all, when most of us hear the term world-building, we tend to think in Hard Science Fiction terms, like knowing the gravity of a planet, its orbit around its sun, its age and the atmospheric makeup, those sorts of things. The type of writing that authors like Peter F Hamilton, Gregory Benford, and Dan Simmons do so well. Or we think of it in terms of Fantasy novelists, who construct elaborate histories for their invented lands, families whose heritage goes back thousands of years, and structure them with class systems and people filling the necessary tasks to enable such a world to function. This brings authors like J. R. R. Tolkien and Steven Brust to mind. But clearly, the stories of the Bronte sisters evoked characters, a society, an era, and landscapes that were so important to Michael Moorcock that, when asked a question about world-building, the first writers that leapt to his mind were Emily, Anne, and Charlotte Bronte.

Another person touched deeply by the sisters' work is artist Ashley Jackson. While enjoying the comfort of a warm bus during our "Last of the Summer Wine" tour in Holmfirth, England, the guide pointed out the artist's studio, and suggested that it was worth visiting. Later that day, we did just that, and saw canvases covering the walls, and set upon easels, all evoking the grey, stormy weather we had enjoyed that day.

Enjoying a rainy day outside Holmfirth inside a warm bus
on our "Last of the Summer Wine" tour.

During our visit, a sales associate handed us a brochure, in which Ashley Jackson described some of his favorite views in and around Holmfirth. So the next day we set out on the route Ashley had outlined for us, and drank in the lush, green surroundings.

Taking the Ashley Jackson walk outside Holmfirth.

If you're a fan of the British sitcom (or Britcom) "Last of the Summer Wine," or for any other reason ever decide to visit Holmfirth, you can download this map at Ashley Jackson's website.

Ashley Jackson has often said that what the Bronte sisters did with their pens, he attempts to do with his brushes. Throughout his life, he has aided several Bronte causes, such as saving landmarks that inspired their stories. Also notable is that he usually only paints during the winter when the sky is cloudy, and a storm is imminent. He even paints during the rain! Imagine painting watercolors onto a canvas, while standing in a wet field, the wind blowing the rain horizontally into your face. This is Ashley Jackson's world. While he depicts the world of today, his paintings transport you back in time, so you can see the world through the Bronte sisters' eyes. 

Pausing for a steak pie and a Diet-Coke in Haworth,
before seeing more of the Bronte sister's hometown.

Even if I never associated world-building with the Bronte sisters, or for that matter with Michael Moorcock, there's no doubt that the best authors fill readers with visions of their fictional landscapes, and imbue them with a reality that makes us desire to visit them. (Or inspire us to write similar stories, or evoke such landscapes and realities in some other artistic form, such as Ashley Jackson does). How else can one explain the tremendous popularity of such small, out-of-the-way towns like Holmfirth and Haworth, isolated locales in which TV writer Roy Clarke and literary icons Emily, Anne, and Charlotte Bronte set their stories? 

Taking in the views a short walk from Haworth.

Now, if only one could visit Elric's home of Melnibone, and enjoy a tour inside a comfortable, warm bus. Provided I was assured that Elric's sword Stormbringer wouldn't drink my soul, I'd sign up for that. Well, maybe...

Dragon Dave

A Ride Aboard the Hogwarts Express: Part 2

One moment my wife and I watched the quiet English countryside stream past. It looked like a storm might be brewing outside, but that was okay: we were comfortable in our six-person compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express. We could sit back, and watch the clouds disperse the rains that kept the fells, valleys, and pasturelands so green. With Nature bursting from so such pent-up energy, we were reminded how English artist Ashley Jackson captures all the color and drama of the moment before the storm in his landscape paintings. Then, in an instant, everything changed.

Spectral wraith-like beings swept into our compartment, filling our hearts with fear, and draining our minds of all hope, and joy. Someone whispered, "Dementors," I'm not sure who, or what they meant. Nor can I recollect how long that moment lasted, but it seemed an eternity. Eventually these terrible ghosts (or Dementors?) left, and a short while later, a village appeared on the horizon. An audible sigh, comparable to the exhalations of the locomotive's mighty engine, filled our compartment. Then we were pulled into another railway station.

We didn't know where we were, but at least we had survived our encounter with those hateful spirits. There's a positive side to every moment of life, don't you agree?

Dragon Dave

Perfectionism & the Royal Suspension Chain Pier in Brighton

As an aspiring author, I think my biggest weakness is perfectionism. I tend to think that whatever I create should be perfect, that it should appeal to everyone, and that it should be so good that it will last forever. My seeming inability to adopt a more realistic approach has meant that I've finished and submitted few stories and novels.  

As a result, after years of writing, I have nothing to show for my efforts.

At the Brighton Museum, I learned that the city's first pier was called the Royal Suspension Chain Pier.  It was built in 1823, with the intention of helping cross-channel passengers board their ships.

It soon became a place for the fashionable to congregate, to see and be seen.  Or, as the British would say, to promenade.  Landscape painters such as Joseph Turner (an inspiration for Holmfirth-based Ashley Jackson) and John Constable immortalized it in their work.

While I'm sure the builders constructed it as best they could, the Royal Suspension Chain Pier failed the test of time.  By 1896, the pier had already been closed, and was scheduled to be dismantled when a storm struck Brighton.

The remains of the limestone blocks into which the oak piles were rooted can apparently be seen at extremely low tides.  Sadly, that's all that remains of what was a highly useful and impressive structure.  Still, the unexpected appeal of the Royal Suspension Chain Pier led to the construction of the West Pier, which became a popular venue for concerts, shows, and all sorts of entertainment.  It helped make Brighton a better port city, heightened its utility and appeal, and helped it grow.  Even if it wasn't perfect, even if it didn't last forever, it benefitted people in many ways, and was immortalized by two painters who would eventually number among England's greatest artists.

No matter how hard I work, it's likely I can never make my fiction perfect.  It's equally likely that any stories I manage to publish may go out of print.  But if they can entertain readers for a time, and inspire future authors, then that should be enough for me.  Now, to keep that thought before me each day as I sit down to write, and finish, and sell.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Ashley Jackson: Staying True to Your Muse

Related Internet Links

The Brighton Museum

Ashley Jackson: Tilting at Windmills

In Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, the title character spurs his horse into an attack on the windmills he believes to be giants menacing his beloved homeland.  From this important 17^th Century Spanish novel, the phrase “tilting at windmills” has entered the English language.  It refers to those we sometimes incorrectly view as our enemies, or actions we undertake in response to threats that may not be as dangerous as we believe.

Last week, I looked through the pictures that Ashley Jackson placed on his Facebook page.  Many are photographs of his paintings.  Ashley has often said that the novels of the Bronte sisters served as a huge inspiration to him.  The feelings that imbue Charlotte, Emily, and Anne’s writing are the same ones he tries to evoke in his paintings.  Understanding his love for their stories helps me understand how much he loves the landscape surrounding Haworth, where the sisters lived and wrote some of their immortal stories.  Given that, he naturally opposes anything that might blight his beloved moorland.  Chief among his concerns are a wind farm five miles away from Haworth, which plans to erect taller giants than those Don Quixote battled.  These new invaders will stand over three hundred feet in height.

Having visited Haworth last year, I can attest to the surrounding moorland’s beauty.  The wind farms he is protesting are nothing in comparison to the army I saw marching outside Mojave.  Yet, he is concerned that constructing more and taller windmills will not only desecrate the land, but also damage it in the name of green energy.  As a lover of Fiction, much of the impetus for my visits to England came from reading the works of English authors, as well as the TV show adaptations.  Could I visit Haworth, and in the presence of such tall windmills, still see the landscape of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights?  And is that an important consideration, when weighed against the potential benefits to the local residents?

I love the sleek design and capabilities of these modern windmills, and I thought they enlivened the landscape near Mojave.  That doesn’t mean that I would have welcomed their presence in Red Rock Canyon State Park, however.  So, is Ashley right to oppose these proposed behemoths?  Ultimately, it’s up to those living in a given area to decide how best to use their land.  For Ashley’s sake, and for all who hold the Bronte sisters’ moorland sacred, I hope the locals get the public debate necessary to make a wise decision in this matter.  For how our world looks to us—how we make it look--and consequently how it makes us think and feel, is just as important as how we use it to generate power and ease our finances. 

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Ashley Jackson: Staying True to Your Muse

Paying Homage to the Brontes: Part 2

Related Internet Link

Ashley’s painting of windmills

Bronte Society fights wind farm plans

E.ON Energy UK

Ashley Jackson: Staying True to Your Muse

Looking out on a brooding, wet landscape
from the comfort of our tour bus.

Ashley Jackson is not the most commercially popular or critically hailed artist.  Whereas his contemporaries seek out bright, sunny days, he opts to paint on cold, cloudy days between September and March.  “Other artists go for color,” he says.  “It’s atmosphere I’m after.”  A casual mention on the “Last of the Summer Wine” tour led us to his studio in Holmfirth, England.  There we received a brochure showing some of his favorite, nearby painting sites.  We followed the suggested route, and enjoyed our day walking the environs of this adorable town tucked in the hills of southern Yorkshire.  By all rights, that should have been the end of our interest in Ashley Jackson. 

Instead, my wife opted to follow him on Twitter, and she occasionally emails me links to stories about him.  One such story, for which I’ve provided the link at the bottom of this post, resonated so strongly with me that it inspired this entry.  Our growing interest in Ashley Jackson and his work cannot be logically explained.  Yet something keeps drawing us back to him, making us want to know more, and enjoying what we learn.

I think one of the reasons we appreciate Ashley Jackson is because he has stayed true to his initial vision.  Early in his career, people urged him to adopt a more conventional approach.  Yet he has stuck with his distinctive style and unique color palette.  He finds worth in capturing weather most of us would describe as terrible.  On days when we’re tucked up inside our houses or workplaces, with the heaters switched on, and grateful for the walls and roofs that protect us from the elements, he’s painting out on the moors somewhere.  On days most of us would find depressing, he’s working hard to immortalize the angry clouds, the rain pummeling houses or barns, and the windswept grasses and heather. 

Conventional wisdom for watercolor artists says to keep your paintings small.  Yet instead of going with small canvases, such as seven by twelve inches, his landscapes extend much larger, some as big as thirty-six by forty-eight.  Working at such sizes requires an extraordinary emphasis on the details of his subjects.  In this way, he again goes against popular demand and critical expectations.  But that doesn’t bother him.  He’s followed his muse all his life.  He may have had to forego arts council grants, and brave the scorn of the intellectuals in England’s arts establishment, but an audience has gradually coalesced around his work, and has allowed him to continue following his muse.

A view captured on one of our walks around Holmfirth.

Perhaps what piqued our curiosity about the man, and feeds our growing interest in his work, is how he tries to capture the very soul of the land he loves.  Anyone can paint cheerful scenes of bright, sunny days, but weather enhances a landscape just like clothing and scars add reality to a fictional character.  And he appears to think in literary terms, likening his work to that of the Bronte sisters, three authors whose characters and stories attract readers to visit those Yorkshire villages where the three sisters wrote and lived.  The TV show “Last of the Summer Wine” drew us to Holmfirth.  The James Herriot novels, and the TV series “All Creatures Great and Small,” led us to Thirsk.  Having driven through Yorkshire, and visited these towns, we’ve taken time to linger.  To just see, listen, and feel.  In Ashley Jackson, we’ve discovered someone whose work reminds us of why we came to love Yorkshire, even if, all the time, or even most of the time, the weather isn’t cheerful and carefree.  Thank you, Ashley, for staying true to your vision.

Fascinated by a true artist,

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Walking in an Artist’s Footsteps

Paying Homage to the Brontes: Part 1

Related Internet Links

An Artist’s Trained Eye

The Finest View in England Part 5

Gormire Lake, the only natural lake in the
North York Moors National Park.

As this current train originated with “The Proper Role of Fiction,” I could understand if some readers might wonder if I’m currently chugging through an underground tunnel.  But I couldn’t be happier pursuing this theme, and remembering my pilgrimage to Sutton Bank, from which Alf Wight’s (or James Herriot’s) ashes were scattered.  Yes, in “The Proper Role of Fiction” and “The Hunter of my Memories” I ruminated on the death of my father. Yes, in “The Finest View in England Part 2,” I spoke about attending the life celebration of a member of my family.  But death is a part of life, not to be feared, but acknowledged and celebrated.  In doing so we remind ourselves not just of the deceased, but why they meant so much to us.  This refreshing of our memories allows us to give their passing new meaning by contemplating their values and outlooks on life.  

In my case, spending time in and around Thirsk, the town James Herriot called Darrowby, and using James Herriot’s Yorkshire as a guide to our travels, helped me see the land he loved through his eyes.

In the previous post, I mentioned that the day was especially warm, and we were ruing the fact that we had not packed shorts for our walk.  But my wife, who follows Twitter comments (or Tweets) from Ashley Jackson in Holmfirth, and Ritz Cinema in Thirsk, tells me that it has rained in both towns virtually every day since we left England.  Remember how Herriot's old Austin 7 was covered up the day we visited The World of James Herriot? Remember Janet Deacon's Twitter photo from "View Part 2," when the staff finally unveiled it for a show?  I've just learned the show was canceled, due to all the rain they've been having lately. So perhaps having to endure a spell of warm weather, even if we weren’t dressed for it, wasn’t so bad. 

Speaking of Ashley Jackson, you’ll remember from “Walking in an Artist’s Footsteps” that I loved our walk around Holmfirth.  Even if the weather wasn’t ideal, we saw so much countryside that reminded us of the TV show that had drawn us there, “Last of the Summer Wine.”  Well, on this day atop Sutton Bank, I may not have been in the company of Compo, Norman, and Foggy, but I had my own "Summer Wine" moment.  It occurred at Whitestone Cliff, and I probably wouldn’t have done it if I’d been wearing shorts.

Like Gimli in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings,
I am dwarfed by the scale of this landmark.
(Note: I'm the tiny speck of blue at the top).

According to James Herriot’s Yorkshire, Whitestone Cliff earned its name because in 1755 thousands of tons of rock sheered away to create this vertical profile.  It also earned the name White Mare Crag from several legendary stories.  One speaks of a witch who leapt from the cliff to land in Gormire Lake, which is supposedly bottomless and hides a lost village.  Another story, more entertaining by far, is a poem about an abbot and a knight who trade horses one night, only for both to get caught up in their race and forget that they’re heading toward this very cliff.  I won’t ruin the story for you, but if you’re interested in reading it, you can follow the link at the bottom of this post.  For now, here’s a little taste:

"And here as Sir Harry was riding by, 


In the parlour the abbot he chanced to spy, 


Drinking and blinking, 


And thinking and winking, 


In his very bright way,

with his very bright eye. 


Sir Harry drew rein, 


In a frolicsome vein, 


To make the good abbot his conduct explain."

Anyway, back to my "Summer Wine" moment.  One of the things I like about the TV show is how the men find such scenic spots to just sit down in the grass or shrubs and let the landscape inspire them.  Norman philosophizes, Foggy dreams up new adventures, and Compo...well, Compo is as jocular and childish as ever.  It’s so easy on a vacation, as in life, to get caught up in the desire to see everything, and thus to rush about madly, stop at a few key spots, snap a few photographs, and then, like the Abbot and Sir Harry, speed madly off to your next destination.  

Here, on this pleasant day, I finally got to do what some of my favorite fictional characters do so well.  Simply relax, kick back, reflect on life, and enjoy the view.  In my jeans, I could sit down on the shrubs, and not worry about getting bug bites or a rash from whatever plants I sat on.  With the world spread out before me, I reflected on all that had brought us to this particular stretch of England, how much I was enjoying my vacation, and the insights I had gained that would enrich my life back home.  

My own Summer Wine moment, not in Holmfirth, but atop Sutton Bank, overlooking a gorgeous valley, and of course, lovely Thirsk.

The best seat in the house.

Rest well, Alf Wight (James Herriot).  Rest well.

Enjoying just…being,

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Escaping the Heavy Imprint of Man

An Evening at Ritz Cinema Part 1

The Proper Role of Fiction

Related Internet Links

Mythology & Poem of Gormire Lake and White Crag Cliff

Geology of Sutton Bank and Gormire Lake

Walking in an Artist’s Footsteps

"Ah, I see we're on the same page.  Or canvas."

The bus tour taught us that there was more to Holmfirth than “Last of the Summer Wine.”  Just as people are always more than we perceive, our driver touched upon some of the highlights from Holmfirth’s past and present.  The area’s unique qualities had given birth to a thriving textile industry.  Several floods had washed through this lovely valley, taking many lives.  Ironically, some of Britain’s first films were made here.  Some have even suggested that, had World War One not happened, Holmfirth could have proven a precursor to Hollywood.

Now this is what I call Summer Wine Magic.

Colin mentioned a local artist as he drove out of town.  That evening, my wife suggested that we visit his studio.  Back home, we don’t normally visit art galleries: we know where we are, as well as why.  Yet on vacation, it helps to view the landscape through a local artist’s eyes.  Their depictions of the surrounding landscape offer another perspective.  They remind us that, while we know what drew us here, others have different reasons for making this their home.

The path we take twists, turns, and navigates hills.

In Ashley Jackson’s work, the plain white sky so often seen in “Last of the Summer Wine” emerges as a full-fledged character.  Roiling like an angry god, it hovers above Holmfirth, tormenting the hardy townsfolk who would rather endure the torments than abandon their beloved town.  I’m not sure I could live in Ashley Jackson’s world: his landscapes tend toward the stark and bleak.  Then again, the Fantasy stories that I love often focus upon great wars and terrible events that overtake imagined lands, and threaten to sweep away those who populate them.  As with those works, his canvases speak of stirring battles.  Only those who persevere, who refuse to give up, can hope to achieve victory.

Perhaps we need a Mini to explore them.

Here I go again, speaking of something I have done as an analogy for life.  Yet isn’t that what great art offers: a chance to view one’s life more clearly?  That visit to his studio, while lasting but a few minutes, would prove decisive.  For there we received a booklet in which the artist lays out a particular walk.  The next day, we followed in his footsteps, stopping at various points to compare what we saw to how he had depicted it on canvas.  Viewing the landscape through his eyes and my own, I could understand how the landscape could be both cruel and kind to those who lived there.  I could see the haunting beauty that drew filmmakers, and understand how nature would then punish them and test their tenacity and resources.  The journey even took us past a working textile mill.  Later, back in town, my wife would purchase some of the local yarn.

In regard to “Last of the Summer Wine,” the walk proved a definitive experience.  That morning on the road evoked memories of Foggy, Norman, and Campo undertaking similar journeys.  I could see how such vistas could inspire Foggy to attempt feats of greatness.  As with Ashley Jackson, they also inspired me to pursue my own.

Thanks for keeping pace with me,

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Monty Python on Westminster Bridge

Walking Whitehall

In Search of Greatness

Related Internet Links

Rowan Yarn

Holmfirth’s Moviemaking past

Ashley Jackson