Two nights ago .<\/span><\/p>\n ” … He had seen a lot happen at the mission … seen [men] … down on their luck … He had seen men come through that had been rich doctors and lawyers, and one man who had been a state senator … Smokey asked Jimmy what caused men like that to sink so low. “I’d have to say the main reason is that most of them have been disappointed in some way,” Jimmy said, “… and so they get lost and wander around. And, of course, old man whisky plays a role. But in all the years I’ve seen men come in and out, I’d say disappointment is number one on the list.”<\/em><\/p>\n .<\/span> This quote from Fried Green Tomatoes<\/strong><\/span> reminded me of poet and doctor Glenn Colquhoun’s<\/a> speech on “The Therapeutic Uses of Ache”<\/strong> to the Royal College of General Practitioners in Wellington in 2009, where he observed:<\/p>\n “In fact, apart from a few of the old favourites, I don\u2019t often see much of what I learnt about in medical school at all … Of all the conditions I do see that no one ever taught me about, ache is by far and away the most common. Too often in my practice it has forced me to leave the tar-seal of the textbook. At those times I have returned to what I have learnt from life by living it, mainly from making a hash of it. It is the most reliable source of ache I know … Over time our sorrows accumulate. Ache becomes part of our shape \u2013 a weird anatomy. It can be felt, seen, perceived and mapped by those who know its language.<\/em>“<\/em><\/p>\n .<\/span><\/p>\n For me, writing is primarily to tell the stories that are “out there” in the realm of imagination, wanting and waiting to be told in the world. But within and through that come other things: to illuminate the human condition, to explore truths, to understand why we are and how … Literature, whether engaged in as writer or reader, is about connection, the realisation that we are part of a greater whole; and also reflection—holding up a mirror to ourselves, which very often shows us Glenn Colquhoun’s “ache.”<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/05\/my-iron-spine-101x150.jpg\" "\\"my-iron-spine\\""){kind=spacer}
<\/a>From Helen Rickerby’s<\/a> poem Vital Melancholy<\/em><\/strong> in her collection My Iron Spine<\/strong><\/span> (Headworx, 2008):<\/p>\n
\ndriving the storm road
\nbeside the lake
\nI realised I was afraid
\nNow knowing that the world
\nis frightening
\nfor children because
\nthey don\u2019t understand it
\nand frightening for grown-ups
\nbecause they do<\/em><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/09\/Fried-Green-Tomatoes.jpg\" "\\"Fried")
<\/a>I also read Fannie Flagg’s Fried Green Tomatoes at The Whistle Stop Cafe<\/strong><\/span> recently (saw the movie years ago, but only just read—and also enjoyed—the book!) and was struck by the following lines:<\/p>\n
\n<\/em><\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/09\/Playing-God1-111x150.jpg\" "\\"Playing"){kind=spacer}
<\/a>To read the full address, click here<\/a>:<\/strong> it’s well worth it and also reminded me all over again what an acute observer Glenn Colquhoun is and how I need to read his collection Playing God<\/strong><\/span> again, and maybe even share some of the poems with you of a Tuesday.<\/p>\n