Society

Q. At the age of 50 my brother-in-law has discovered a talent for acting and singing. He has joined a local amateur dramatics society and often takes a leading role. This new dimension in his life has meant the world to him and his self-confidence has soared. Theatre is not our thing, but as my husband and I live in the same town we feel it incumbent to be loyal and attend at least one performance of a run. The small venue tends to become quite warm and stuffy and, with the best will in the world, my hard-working husband finds it difficult not to nod off, especially if he

Riches, ancient cities, great architecture, splendid landscape, agriculture to match, trade routes, romance. Records of human settlement stretching to the dawn of civilisation, recurrent conflicts and invasions, dynastic struggles which lasted for centuries, wars of religion followed later by revolutionary conflicts. We are contemplating Provence, a region with a glorious history but which has often produced more history than it could consume. That gives rise to an ironic parallel. In the UK, we too have a Province, pronounced Prov’nce. It too has exported a lot of history, for which it has received little recognition. Almost a third of the signatories of the US Declaration of Independence had Ulster Protestant roots.

‘Here’s a piece of filth for you,’ said my husband encouragingly. He was ‘helping’ me, as a cat might help wind wool. He’d come across a letter to the Guardian from 2015, in which Pedr James, who had directed a television dramatisation of Martin Chuzzlewit, drew attention to the name in the book for the proprietor of a ‘boarding house for young gentlemen’, Mrs Todgers. ‘Given her occupation, Todgers suggests to me that Dickens was well aware of the slang meaning which remains with us even today.’ This, the director suggested, exemplified double-entendres in the novel.     That reading seems to me misconceived. Dickens did not need concealed sexual references