Scotland Decides

September 18th 2014 is a seminal day in the history of British politics. All day the people of Scotland have been voting on whether to remain part of the United Kingdom or to go it alone as an independent nation. As I type this, the TV spools on as a number of talking heads debate the implications of each outcome, whilst in halls all over Scotland people are set for a long night of counting the ballot papers that will determine the outcome. The last couple of weeks have stressed how finely poised the outcome is: various polls have, at one point or another, put each camp marginally ahead of the other.

It's being reported now that the 'No' campaign might just have done enough to take it (though, of course, without any results in at the moment, and the fact that no exit polls have actually been commissioned, this is all speculation), which, if it proves to be the case, I personally am glad about. I can't confess to having thoroughly researched all the issues, but from what I have read, I think that the case for a successful independent Scotland is, at best, in the words of the Scottish legal system, Not Proven. From where I've been sitting, the 'Yes' campaign seems to have assumed that a lot of things will go the way they want them to in any post 'Yes' vote negotiations, but failed to provide enough solid evidence to back their case up. Moreover, in a world that is full of borders, both geographical and metaphorical, it'd be somewhat disheartening to think of one being willingly erected so close to home. Of course, at this point in time the result could still be 'Yes', in which case we are in a brave new world, and it could very well be a bumpy next eighteen months or so for those of us who reside in the British Isles.....

On the joy of a good bookshop

Sometimes novel reading seems like a dying art. I know I find myself reading fiction much less than I used to do. Partly because at times there are not enough hours in the day to get what I'm being paid to do done let alone sit down and read for pleasure, and partly because when I do have free time there are so many more things available to read nowadays. I remember when I was growing up, I would read the side of the cereal packet just to have something to read at breakfast (books were forbidden at the table) and because, newspaper and books aside, that was the only way I could read. Nowadays, thanks to my laptop and phone, words are everywhere I could possibly want them, and more. So, whilst I'm probably spending more and more of my time reading - something which is pretty much ideal for me - I'm spending much less of my time reading novels, which isn't.

This scenario isn't exactly new - people with much more cultural weight behind them than me have discussed this - and what I'm really more concerned about discussing in this blog post is the knock-on effect of this. Reading novels less means visiting bookshops less, and for someone whose idea of heaven used to be spending an hour or two wandering around a bookstore seeing what new worlds I could discover between the covers of a new book, this is a fairly significant lifestyle change. This lifestyle change began, I think, around about the time that I returned to university to do my Masters. As a graduate student in English Literature, the most obvious place to source your texts is a bookshop. Yet, when the texts that you are studying are not in the canon, you tend to have to get a bit more creative to find some of the texts that you are looking for, and that usually requires resorting to the internet and people looking to pass on 20-30 year old copies of Virago editions that they no longer want and the like. Success in sourcing difficult-to-find material, and the lure of cheaper-than-on-the-high-street editions of that material that is easily accessible (please don't judge: I was poor, and didn't about the tax-dodging) led to mission-creep, and before I knew it, the amount of time passing between me entering the doors of a bookshop was getting longer and longer.

Over the last couple of years I've sought to rectify that, and although it means the novels I buy are a bit more expensive than if I'd continued with my internet shopping ways, I now buy them from a person rather than a computer screen. This mostly consists of shopping in the local Waterstones of wherever I happen to be, although if I happen to be in the vicinity of a book fair I'm quite happy to pop in and see if they have anything of interest (sadly the answer is almost always no). Whilst Waterstones is usually perfectly adequate at worst, and decent enough at best (even if they have removed the apostrophe), it's not usually the place for discovering a book that you would otherwise never have happened on. Whilst their bookseller recommendations are useful, there's never really the sense that I could strike up a conversation with one of those booksellers and be led to discover a book that I've never heard of before but that is probably perfect for me or someone I know. The answer to this lies most obviously in the independent sector. But with even chain bookshops struggling - Waterstones only survives thanks to the decision of a Russian billionaire to rescue it from administration in 2011, and just last week, a friend posted on Facebook that Blackwell's in Charing Cross was about to close its doors - it's often quite hard to find an independent bookstore at all, let alone one that you happen to like. As might be obvious given that this post exists in the first place, just recently I was lucky enough to do that.

In Bath for a weekend away with the other half, we were fortunate enough to stumble upon Mr B's Emporium of Reading Delights. As Bath is a wonderfully compact city centre, with shops and restaurants all located upon the main thoroughfares, there's very little to tempt you into the little roads off down the side, and this is especially true of the side of the city that is away from the river-front. Yet on our way in to the centre from the car park, we saw this bookshop advertised and decided to pop in (one of the best things about His Nibs? He loves bookshops too - every time we go in one, even if it's just because I want to have a browse - he ends up leaving with at least a couple of books. He now has more than enough unread books to last him a couple of years worth of reading even if doesn't buy any more for the foreseeable!). The last independent bookshop I was in - just a couple of months ago - had left me a bit cold. It had a few potentially interesting-looking books in, but as neither I nor my friend were looking for anything in particular, we soon drifted out again. Mr B's was different. Whilst browsing the displays, looking at what there was on offer, I was soon asked very pleasantly if there was anything I was looking for in particular. After saying that I was just browsing, I was then left in peace to check out what they had to offer. The answer to that was, a lot. Spread over three floors (although a gammy knee prevented me from exploring upstairs and finding out what exactly was in the bibliotherapy room), the shop had all sorts of nooks and crannies in which books dwelt. Whilst some of them were organised around categories that you'll usually find in a bookstore, such as classics or young adults, others had more current cultural relevance. The selection of books throughout the store was quite wide one - as well as the standard books, there always seemed to be popping up books that you suspect wouldn't quite make it onto the shelves at a chain store. The number of each book stocked appeared pretty low, but as this is to no doubt encourage the variety held this is no bad thing. Having spotted a number of books we wanted to buy, at that point we left, reasoning that wandering around with at least one bag full of books all day was probably not the most sensible thing to do. We returned at the close of the day to pick up the books that we had our eye on, and as it was at the quietest point of the day we entered into conversation with the staff on duty. It was at this point that our visit there really took off. The staff member we were talking to was not only friendly, but knowledgable about what we might like and recommended several more as potentially suiting our tastes. 

Having thoroughly enjoyed both pottering around the bookshop and talking books with the staff, we finally left, laden with even more books than we had originally planned to buy. It also sparked in me a determination to make sure that not only do I go to Mr B's every time I come to Bath but that I make more of an effort to visit my local independent bookstore. For as well as helping to financially support someone most probably swimming against the business tide - retail independents in all walks of life are struggling to compete against the chains, whether they be national or international - I just might reap the ultimate reader's reward: that of discovering worlds I never knew existed and that I cannot now live without. And, ultimately, that is what I want from a bookshop.

Liverpool FC, 2013-14 Season Review: The agony and the ecstasy....

A couple of weeks ago, as the final whistle blew on the Liverpool-Chelsea match, I tweeted the famous John Cleese quote from his 1986 film, Clockwise. Today, as the faint hope of the title that we possessed at the start of the match was extinguished by Manchester City's inevitable victory over West Ham, I felt like this:

But should I, really? After all, 9 months ago, before a ball had been kicked in anger, Liverpool had been virtually written off as Top Four contenders, and certainly weren't being thought of as title contenders. Instead, thanks in no small part to the free-scoring exploits of Luis Suarez and Daniel Sturridge in helping the team amass 101 goals this season - a huge improvement of 24 goals on their previous best for the Premier League - and an 11-game winning streak that started with the 5-1 demolition of Arsenal and included a 3-0 win away at Old Trafford and a 3-2 defeat of the eventual champions Manchester City, Liverpool have ended this season second. Second! A position that, in the twenty-two seasons of the Premier League, Liverpool have only reached twice, and certainly one that according to both those in the media and in management we shouldn't have achieved. 

So why, at this moment, am I not thrilled with the final outcome of this season, a season in which my club once more challenged for top honours, honours that have been sadly scarce for the adult years of my footballing life? It's at this point I'd like to refer you back to John Cleese....


Part of the thing that draws me to football over pretty much every other sport that I enjoy watching - and I enjoy watching most sports - is both the emotional range that football is able to draw out from me and the intenstity with which I experience those emotions. In the course of 90 minutes I can go from the depths of despair to the highest heights and back again, depending on the skill and dexterity (or lack thereof) of 11 men kicking around a ball for 90 minutes. It's insane when you actually think about it in any sort of logical terms, but there you go.

This season is not the only season when Liverpool have performed well on the world club stage - that night in Istanbul in 2005 springs to mind - but it's certainly been a while since we performed so well so consistently. Winning the league makes you the best in a way that winning a cup competition does not, so to perform well in the league is what any football fan craves. That 11 league game winning run, completed as it was with swagger, artistry and breath-taking moments, took us to the point that the dream was within touching distance. It wasn't a half-baked hope; it was entirely feasible that Liverpool FC could win the league. It wasn't like 2008-9, when our chances depended entirely on another team dropping points. This time, with just three games to go, it was in our hands. It didn't matter what other teams did; if we continued to play as we had done, we would win the league. The dream was becoming reality. It felt like we were running on autopilot: having forgotten how to lose, it seemed like we couldn't lose. Only we did. We were still in with a shot at the title, but now it wasn't in our hands. We still could win both of our remaining games, but because of an inferior goal difference, we had to depend on another club slipping up somehow in order to be crowned Champions. That was still possible though - just as we had to win every game, so had they. And pressure does funny things to people.....

In the end, the pressure did funny things to Liverpool not Manchester City. We ended up throwing away a 3-0 lead with 12 minutes left to end up with only a draw away to Crystal Palace (the curse of Tony Pulis teams continues), and we were left with only the slimmest of hopes going in today. Perhaps today would finally be the day that Andy Carroll would guide Liverpool to glory, albeit in a West Ham shirt? Rationally speaking I knew that this was somewhat clutching at straws. But when has football ever been about rationality?

City duly won, and all that Liverpool are left with is second place. When I think about this, I feel slightly hurt. I believed. I believed that the title was finally coming back to Anfield, and then it didn't. I have coped with the various league disappointments of Graeme Souness, Roy Evans, Gerard Houllier, Rafael Benitez and Roy Hodgson's managements. This, being the freshest, inevitably feels the worst right now, and the dashing of the hope that only 15 days earlier had burnt so brightly only serves to increase it. Agony is the only word to describe the season at the moment.

But, on the bright side, we finished second. Second. We were in the title mix until the final day of the season. If someone had offered me that on the day before the season kicked off, I would have snatched their hand off. Back in the Champions League, and because of the finishing position we won't even have to play a qualifier to make certain of it! Our strong performance this season and the guaranteed Champions League place makes Liverpool a much more attractive proposition to the quality players that we knew we would have to sign in this close-season anyway, so that's all good. Sign those players, and who knows? Perhaps we can turn second to first in twelve months time and truly return to our perch.....

Maybe John Cleese was wrong after all. 

Feminism is not a dirty word.

*To mark International Women's Day I thought I'd post this. I composed it over a period of time several months ago, and have been waiting for a good time to post. Today seems as good a day as any!*

Being a (female) feminist in the early twenty-first century isn't easy. No sooner do you put your head above the parapet to declare your allegiance to the cause than you make yourself a target for all the misogynistic trolls lurking anonymously in the electronic ether, fingers poised at the keyboards ready to make your life a misery by posting hate about you and threatening to rape and kill you. That this is actually happening, as opposed to something made up by misandrists with an agenda to push, has been highlighted over the last year by the online abuse suffered by feminist Caroline Criado-Perez after she successfully campaigned to ensure that the accomplishments of women continued to be represented on British currency, as well as violent threats made to British MP Stella Creasy, the academic Mary Beard and other high profile British liberal women. (To be honest with you, reading about just some of the abuse that they encountered - and, despite the intervention of the police and the invention of a 'report tweet' Twitter button, continued to encounter, to the extent that Criado-Perez felt the need to close her Twitter account - made me a bit nervous about writing this post and publishing it, let alone publicising its existence to the wider world.)

Hopefully, people like that are in a (very vocal) minority. But if it's unlikely that the people that you declare your feminism to aren't overtly hostile to you, then chances are high that they will be dismissive and/or derisive of your way of thinking. Close female relatives of mine roll their eyes at me should I try to begin to make any point about sexism or issues relating to gender, whilst I believe one of them to have once described my postgraduate research as being on 'feminism and other such rubbish' (a precis that was as factually incorrect as it was mildly insulting). Given that the feminism of the last 150 years has, amongst other things, given them a civil existence separate from their male relatives, allowed them to have meaningful employment and enabled them to bear children out of matrimony sans (most of the) social stigma, you'd think they'd be more open to the idea wouldn't you? But then again, if women such as Mary Berry, who would have experienced the limited opportunities of life as a young woman in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, and the changes that second wave feminism would have wrought in it at first hand, can still claim that feminism is "a dirty word", why should my younger relatives who have never experienced the worst of it first hand be any different?

Just as frustrating as my relatives are the friends who tell me that they "are not feminists" because they "believe in equality" between men and women. These friends would not, as far as my acquaintance with them leads me to believe, describe themselves as being particularly politically right-wing. But in so implying that feminism and equality are mutually exclusive, they are articulating one of the right's favourite tenets about feminism: that the movement is all about valuing women over men.

That right-wing beliefs about feminism appear to have been unquestionably adopted by those who would eschew other right-wing dogmas shows how important it is for feminists to speak up on this point, to continually remind people that despite the progress of the last 150 years (for white, Western women anyway), women still don't have a civil existence that is the equal of men's. As feminists, the responsibility lies with us to continue to tell truth to power, to speak up whenever we find women being disadvantaged, belittled or limited in any respect. It's never been easy to do that, and in today's world, where, with a few strokes of the keyboard, vitriol can be swiftly poured into the eyes and minds of those that dare to voice their opinion, it becomes, in some sense, an even braver step to do so. But do so we must. Because we owe it to the women who have gone before us and fought for the freedoms that we do have now, and we owe it to the women who will come after us and will reap the benefits of the freedoms that we gain for them in the future.

That was the year that was....

And so I'm here again. New Years Eve.

Last time I was here on this blog writing about New Years Eve it was 31st December 2012, and I was looking back on a year that didn't appear to have too much going for it. Career-wise I was drifting, doing two zero-hour contract jobs that meant my weekly income could fluctuate wildly and that weren't going to satisfy me intellectually in the long-term. On the personal front, whilst 2012 saw my relationship with my other half definitely move forward out of the rut that it had been in for the best part of 8 years (I'd always known it was that long, but there's something about it being actually written down that makes it much more starker and unacceptable), the movement was that small that I was the only person that would have been able to register it.

To that end I laid down a few targets (I shied away from the word resolution for the simple fact that I wanted to give myself every chance of accomplishing them) for 2013. Here's how I got on....

Target one was to blog more, and I gave myself the specific target of updating the blog at least once a week. A simple glance upwards at the menu listing the number of blogs that I actually published over the last 12 months will be enough to tell you that, although I did publish blog posts over the last twelve months, I came absolutely nowhere near to that stated target. I even revised my target in June to the equivalent of one post every fortnight, which, if I had followed it through, would have meant making at least 15 posts to this blog during the second half of the year.

Ahem.

In my defence, just as I posted in June, this has partly been to do with being overwhelmed with work, certainly over the last two months anyway, and partly to do with writing blog posts that are far too long and complicated, leaving me with at least half a dozen uncompleted blog posts that have no relevance to the world today. So I think the official verdict on this target is: must do better. A lot better.

Target two was to work on the career, having by the end of the year formed a clear idea of where I am going, planned how I am going to get there and be putting it into action. Like target one, this is probably best summed up by saying must do better. I am still working two jobs, on zero-hours contracts, but the jobs (or, to be more precise, one of them) have at least changed and my hours are much more predictable, even if my work-life balance has gone completely out of kilter in the process. In the process I have ruled out the back-up career as a viable alternative, purely for reasons related to the sake of my sanity, so that's progress of sorts isn't it? Anyway, if I get any time to myself then this is what will be my priority for next year.

Target three was to sort my relationship out. This is where the real progress in my life has been made this year. His nibs and myself have spent so much more time together: we have not only met up with each other so much more frequently but we've gone away for weekends on a regular basis and have even had our first proper holiday. The verdict for this part of 2013 is definitely a positive one: we've made real progress in the relationship. The logistical problems caused by living in two different parts of the country are still there, and realistically we can't go much further as a couple without resolving them (which fundamentally means me moving to be with him as he is tied to his geographical location because of work), but as a couple we definitely end 2013 in much better shape than we began it in.


So, overall, 2013 leaves me better off than it found me in, but in some aspects of my life, not by much. Will 2014 finally be the year I get my sh*t together? Watch this space.....

Review: Edinburgh Fringe, Day 3

Sunday being a day of rest and all that, it was decided to take things a little more gently yesterday morning, and not get in to Edinburgh quite so early. The previous days at the Festival had mostly been spontaneous, but Sunday was a little more planned out as there were some shows that had caught the eye but, for one reason or another, we’d not managed to attend. The first of those shows didn’t start until 4pm however, so we still had plenty of time to catch another show beforehand. We’d nothing particular in mind, so as one of the shows that we were going to attend was at the top end of the price scale we thought we might save a bit of cash and see if there was anything of interest on at the Half-Price Hut (located on the Mound) at the right time before heading off elsewhere. There were a couple of things on offer that looked OK, but we decided in the end to go for some more improvisation.

Show 1: The Maydays Confessions

The premise of this show is that, prior to the start, the members of the audience are given a slip of paper on which they are to write down a secret that they are happy for the Maydays to use as a basis for their improvised sketches (the confessions are completely anonymised so that the audience doesn't have to worry about everyone knowing exactly who it was that did whatever comes out of the tin). I didn't put anything in the tin to be pulled out (as always almost happens, my mind drew a complete blank at the precise moment I was asked to put something down), but Suse did and her confession happened to be the first one to be pulled out of the tin. It was nothing particularly scandalous, but it has now been immortalised in song, which was rather amusing! I have to confess though, out of all of the shows that I saw at the Festival, this was my least favourite. Some of the improvisations were funny and I did enjoy them. But at least 50% of the time - if not more - I have to confess to being disappointed with what they came up with and I felt that some didn't work at all. I guess this shows how difficult true improvisational comedy is: the other improv comedy shows I went to see (and enjoyed) both had clearly defined parameters that they knew that they would be working within before they started their shows. My opinion about The Maydays was not, however, universal: Suse enjoyed it more than I did and she felt that the humourous sketches were more plentiful than I did. So, in conclusion, if improvisation is your thing then why not go and give The Maydays a try? If, however, you like your comedy with a bit more structure, like I do, then I would recommend going for something else.

http://www.themaydays.co.uk/index.html, Underbelly Cowgate 2.20pm, 1hr, until August 25th.

Show 2: Champagne Cabaret

This was one of the shows that had been planned for Sunday. The premise is that the audience gets to sample five sparkling wines and champagnes whilst three Aussie 'Songeliers' sing you songs from a number of singers, pairing the wine experiences that the audience enjoy with their music. This sounded interesting and certainly different and definitely worth a shout. We weren't the only ones to think like this. We got to the venue, and all the remaining seats had already been accounted for, so no joy.

http://www.ozcabaret.com/, The Hispaniola 4.00pm, 1hr, Jul 31, Aug 1-4, 6-11, 13-18, 20-25th.

Show 2: Ivo Graham

This was the other show planned for Sunday. Plugged by Josh Widdicombe in The Guardian last week, he sounded like a must see. Sunday seemed like a good day to see him, so off we went to the venue to see if we could get tickets. 'Were there any available?' 'Yes, one.' 'Oh....' So that was that really. Our luck was most definitely not in....

https://www.edfringe.com/whats-on/comedy/ivo-graham-binoculars, Pleasance Courtyard 6.00pm, 1hr, Jul 31, Aug 1-11, 13-25th.

Show 2: Mixed Doubles

Having failed to get into either of the last two shows that we wanted, we were at a little bit of a loss. So off to the Half-Price Hut we went again! Whilst there previously I'd had a look at what was coming up later and spotted this show, but as we had already decided to go to see Ivo Graham at that time there seemed little point in buying tickets. As the saying goes, as one door closes another one opens. I can't say whether Ivo Graham was any good, but what I can say is that Mixed Doubles was. A sketch show featuring two men and two women, it was very funny and highly enjoyable. Taking a look at, amongst others, modern friendships, dating and parenting practices, office behaviour and Andy Murray, Mixed Doubles produced a set that was fast and furious, with each tightly scripted sketch lasting no more than a couple of minutes. I would have quite happily paid full price for this show, so the fact that I got it at half its cost was a bonus! A show that is well worth catching.

http://www.mixed-doubles.co.uk/, Just the Tonic at The Caves 6.00pm, 1hr, Aug 1-12, 14-25th.

Show 3: Matt Lacey: Classroom Warrior


Suse left me in Edinburgh after Mixed Doubles as she had to get ready for work the next day, but as there were still plenty more shows left to see I figured that I might as well stay and catch at least one more show. I didn't have anything in particular in mind so decided to see what I could find. Scrolling through my app nothing really caught my eye until I saw this one. As I work in education it sounded like it could be quite amusing, and as I figured I had just enough time to walk across the city to catch it I headed away from the main Fringe venues to the French Quarter where the venue was. The premise of the show is that the audience are parents looking to send their children to the school, and Lacey plays every one of the various teachers who have come to speak to the audience about what their children will be studying at the school. It's a very tightly scripted show, but that doesn't mean that Lacey is afraid to go off script a little and interact with his audience. The characters in the show are memorable - Lacey's most famous creation inevitably makes an appearance in this show, but for my money he is trumped by the P.E. teacher - and the show itself is very funny and well worth making the effort to leave the Royal Mile and all the venues located around there.

https://www.edfringe.com/whats-on/comedy/matt-lacey-classroom-warrior-free, The Voodoo Rooms 7.30pm, 1hr, Aug 3-12, 14-18, 20-24.

Day 3: The Verdict

In some ways this day was a bit of a mixed bag, due to a) my sense of humour failure at The Maydays Confessions and b) our failure to get into the two shows that we had actually planned to see on the day. But both Mixed Doubles and Matt Lacey: Classroom Warrior both made up for that. They were both excellent and made picking out my favourite show of the day difficult. But in the end I had to go for Matt Lacey: Classroom Warrior as my pick of the day - it was just a joy from start to finish, and was a great way to end my Fringe Festival experience.

Review: Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Day 2

On Friday I was at the Festival alone, going wherever my fancy took me. Yesterday, however, saw me come to the Festival with my friend, Susan (or Suse, to give her the name by which she's commonly known by amongst our group of friends), which added an extra dimension to the day as it meant that decisions on which shows to go and see would have to be negotiated between us to take account of our differing tastes in comedy.

Show 1: Mansfield Presents Lovers' Vows

This was our first show, and it was an easy one to settle on. Both of us are Austen fans (the fact that I went for Austentatious yesterday should have made that one clear anyway) and both of us having a liking for Mansfield Park (1814) - which, in itself is slightly unusual, Fanny Price being one of her least well-liked heroines - meant that when we found out about this show it suited both of us. An original production, the play centres around the decision of the Bertram children to perform Elizabeth Inchbald's Lovers Vows (1798) and, using excerpts from Austen's novel, imagines the Mansfield theatricals more comprehensively played out. Somewhat predictably the characters of Mrs Norris and Mr Rushworth provide the comic aspects of the play, whilst the other characters provide more dramatic ones. The play-within-a-play conceit is used here to interesting effect, as Lovers Vows is performed by the Bertrams and Crawfords using eighteenth century theatrical techniques (to a lesser or greater effect, depending on each character's own ability to disguise their emotions) whilst their off-stage dramas are played out using the naturalistic style developed in the late nineteenth century. The production is one that mainly uses student actors, and this is evident in some of the performances. Nevertheless this is an enjoyable hour well spent for fans of Mansfield Park that fleshes out a crucial part of the novel that the author only hints at. 

http://www.charlotteproductions.org/,  Paradise in Augustine's 12.05am, 1hr, August 5-10th, 13th-17th.

Show 2: Impromptu Shakespeare

Like Austentatious yesterday, Impromptu Shakespeare is improvised comedy. Like the aforementioned show, the subject that is performed is determined by the audience, but this time the performers have a bit more control over the proceedings, giving the audience balls to be plucked out of a hat with themes for the play written on them. Admittedly the performers ask the audience members who select the themes to flesh them out a little with their own experiences of that will also be incorporated into the play, but this does seem somewhat less spontaneous. I know that the Impromptu Shakespeare performers have to have a working knowledge of thirty seven different plays rather than just six novels, but their method of selection seems a little less improvised than it could be. The play itself was quite funny, and, as with Friday, the actors proved their skill with their craft by managing to keep the conceit going throughout (one anachronism aside). Indeed, given the imperative to make the material conform to both Shakespearean plot and language, the actors did really well and they made it an enjoyable hour.

http://www.impromptushakespeare.com/ Underbelly Cowgate 2.10pm, 1 hr, until August 25th.

Show 3: Christian Schulte-Loh: Attack of the 50 Foot German Comedian

The decision to attend this show was made purely on the basis that we both have a couple of German friends from our postgraduate days, and dearly though we love them, sense of humour is not top of the list when describing their characters, So, for sheer novelty value, we decided that a German comedian simply couldn't be missed. As it turned out, we nearly did because although the show was listed as taking place in Base Nightclub in the Fringe app, the venue in which the show was taking place was called Beat Nightclub above the door. After we had managed to sort out that confusion, it turned out that a lot of people wanted to see a German comedian. So many had turned out, in fact, that ten minutes of the gig was lost to Schulte-Loh searching for the keys to the venue's mezzanine floor so that people had a reasonable amount of room to enjoy his show in rather than lurk at the back squashed in. Once the show eventually got under way, Schulte-Loh proved that you can be German and funny. His comedy was observational in origin and, as a lot of it came from his interaction with the audience, proved him to be extremely quick witted as well as having quite a dry sense of humour. The amount of audience interaction that he engaged in - at least 30% of the time he was either talking to or about someone in the audience - meant that you came away feeling like this gig was a one-off rather than something off the Festival production line, to be repeated ad infinitum until the end of the month, although he's definitely not an improvised comic.

http://www.germancomedian.com/, Base/Beat Nightclub 5.00pm, 60 mins, until August 24th.

Show 4: Rob Carter: Murder (and other hobbies)

This show was another spontaneous selection, having been decided on after we received a flyer as we left Impromptu Shakespeare (so all the flyering that goes on is apparently not a waste of time). The promised genre was Musical Comedy, something which I had yet to see during my Festival sojourn which was one of the primary reasons why it appealed to Suse and I. Via the medium of song, and innumerable musical genres, Carter gives the audience a slightly surreal view of a middle-class upbringing in West Sussex and beyond. There's a few bits of audience interaction in this show, most notably when one guy who had broken the cardinal rule of comedy shows by sitting in the front row managed to lose his shoes and shorts and had to spend the remainder of the show with only his boxer shorts preserving his modesty, but it is mostly fairly tightly scripted, and doesn't really go off the script too much. The show's conclusion in particular had everyone in fits of laughter and was a definite high point. Overall it was an enjoyable show, with the laughs coming quite regularly, and definitely worth an hour of your time if you're looking for a break from more traditional forms of comedy.

http://www.robcartercomedy.com/, Underbelly Cowgate 6.30pm, 1hr, until August 25th

Show 5: Josh Widdicombe: Incidentally....

The one thing that has so far been missing from my Edinburgh experience is seeing a 'big' name comedian. Whilst Widdicombe is not the biggest name in comedy at the moment (although if you asked me to name who that was, I couldn't), his omnipresence on comedic panel shows such as 8 Out of 10 Cats, The Last Leg and Mock the Week mean that he has permeated the public's consciousness in a way that most of the Fringe performers haven't (so far anyway!). As our last show had finished at 7.30pm, Suse and I thought that we might try and take in a 'big' name to round off our Saturday evening. But as I was, by now, completely out of battery power on my phone (damn you Apple! Why do you have to make such good mobiles with such bad battery power?!), it was decided to adjourn to a hostelry to imbibe some liquid refreshment and take advantage of said hostelry's access to electricity to recharge my phone for a little while, to therefore enable ourselves to actually find their way to the venue. Ah! Those best made plans! Firstly it took us an age to actually find a place for us to have a drink in, purely and simply on the grounds of space. Then, when we not only managed to find somewhere that would accommodate us but also had a plug going spare that I could use to add a small charge to my phone, we decided to make our way to the venue not by using our GPS-enabled phones (my battery was still the problem and Suse's GPS just wouldn't load) but courtesy of the directions given to us by some fairly pished gentleman at a nearby table, which resulted in us walking around the houses for so long that we didn't actually arrive at the venue until about 5 minutes before the gig. Predictably there were no tickets left by this time (although maybe there wouldn't have been even if we hadn't have listened to the drunks given it was Saturday night), so I still haven't seen a 'big' name comedian at Edinburgh. In the words of the song that used to break my heart when I was younger, maybe tomorrow....

http://www.joshwiddicombe.com/, Assembly George Square 9.00pm, 1 hr, August 1-6, 8-13, 15.

Day 2: The Verdict

Once again all the shows that I saw were enjoyable, and it was good having someone else with me to point me in the direction of shows I might not necessarily have considered otherwise. My pick of Day 2 though goes to Christian Schulte-Loh, who was really engaging and is someone that I'd definitely pay money to go and see again in the future!