The Space Between the Notes

Lester Square and Friends. “The Space Between the Notes.” Taps, Cubist Records, 2023.

Picture by: Sophie Davidson

Lester Square was the original guitarist in Adam and the Ants and went on to co-found the Monochrome Set. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when he asked me to contribute to this project alongside the likes of Toby Litt, Nicholas Blincoe and John Robb.

Here’s the press release:

The English affection for miniatures has a long history: Nicholas Hilliard, John Hoskins and Samuel Cooper to name but a few. In the world of literature, critic Colin Manlove observed “The growing pleasure of English writers in creating fantastic miniature worlds which work on their own.”

It may be that those who live upon a small island take delight in small things.

In 2022, having tired of a solitude born of Covid 19, Lester Square emerged blinking into the light and, desperate for company, laid down a challenge to a number of eminent authors of his acquaintance to provide a short story: short enough to leave room for a musical backdrop to provide an expressive counterpoint and intriguing enough to elicit full immersion in a pocket otherworld: as William Blake would describe it, seeing “a world in a grain of sand.”

The process couldn’t have been simpler, collaborators merely sent in a sound file of their reading recorded on a phone. The challenge then for Lester was to set them to music and sound collage which complemented and amplified the mood conjured up by the written word. Sometimes literally — the rhythmic headboard banging as the neighbours have sex next door to Andrew Gallix; sometimes through counterintuitive juxtaposition — the jolly counterpoint to a skinhead attack in Lucy O’Brien’s memoir.

The collision and interplay of genres has resulted in 13 evocative vignettes – some magical, some comical, some foreboding – that have become more than the sum of their miniature parts

…but which leave you wanting more.

Full line-up (in order of appearance): Alan Platt, Michele Kirsch, John Robb, Lucy O’Brien, Nicholas Blincoe, Toby Litt, Paul D Brazill, Lobby Robinson, John Haney, Andrew Gallix.

The Fear

Here is my review of The Fear by Christiana Spens, published in The Irish Times on 1 April 2023.

In The Fear, Christiana Spens maps out her existential journey through a trauma-induced underworld — a demimonde of the angst-ridden mind — looking to philosophy and politics, art and writing for an “escape route”. Addicted to the all-consuming melodrama (and attendant melancholia) of toxic romances, she eventually suffers a breakdown in Paris while working as an au pair: “I opened my arms to an emptiness I could not contain”.

Having hit rock bottom, it becomes clear that these relationships are not so much doomed to fail as designed to do so. Their essential function is to subsume all her “deeper fears” in a bid to bury them.

Back in Scotland, Spens embarks upon a Master’s degree in terrorism studies — a natural choice given the personal war on terror she is waging. The Fear — this “perpetual flight or fight” mode — takes on a collective dimension at this juncture. It is, she argues, bound up with patriarchal values that rely on “terror and everyday fearfulness to persist” as evidenced, closer to home, by her enigmatic, emotionally absent, and virtually mute, father.

This book of disquiet orbits a sinister black hole that manifests itself through violent panic attacks on the London underground, however much the author strives to repress it. In a particularly poignant passage, she goes on a valiant “pilgrimage” to the suburban neighbourhood where she was raped a decade earlier.

Spens discovers how devilishly difficult it is to face up to her demons. The Fear, itself a survival strategy — a desperate attempt to “negate the pain” of an overwhelming, unbearable reality — keeps on producing new coping mechanisms and displacement activities. “I was writing about fear,” she remarks with regards to her studies, “but the writing itself was a way to avoid feeling it fully”.

The disconnection the author has felt since her assault — when “a phone line [was] cut between the mental and the physical” — is countered by the connection experienced through drawing: “Dissociation was cured by this line, this one simple act”. A similar flow state is achieved when she relates her father’s demise or her son’s birth. Gradually, art becomes “part of living” rather than a mere “solace”. Spens writes herself back to life — and it is a joy to behold.

Picture by: Sophie Davidson