Tag Archives: Royal Institution

Selling the Royal Institution

No sooner had the Grandmother suggested we sell the Royal Institution, but someone is actually wanting to do that very thing.

Although, I suppose not the RI as such. The RI are the ones being forced out of their ‘home,’ the rather nice building in Albemarle Street, where Michael Faraday used to work.

I hope it’s a false alarm, and by that I mean perhaps someone will come up with the money to save it. But why do I feel like this? In most cases I would shrug my shoulders in a pragmatic kind of way, because I’m not surprised by either mismanagement or hard times. ‘These things happen.’ All the time.

But this is the Royal Institution. It’s the Faraday link.

But as I said, we were thinking of selling the very same building, albeit in the shape of a painting. Apparently it was commissioned by Faraday. And according to family lore, once it was painted, it lived under his desk for a very long time.

It was eventually framed by the Resident IT Consultant’s grandfather, and is currently hanging on our wall. At first it was on sufferance, because as pictures go I didn’t like it much. But once the idea of selling it was broached, I realised I’d got used to it.

I suspect we will keep it, because it’s not worth a lot. The story of it being close to Faraday’s knees is probably more valuable.

Royal Institution

As for the other building, I hope someone nice and rich will find they have money to spare. The problem though, is that by doing the place up, the RI have priced people like us out of going there, even if we lived close enough to consider frequenting it for talks and other events.

Bookwitch bites #90

I’m very grateful to my faithful and hardworking commenters here on Bookwitch. Hence Seana’s link yesterday to a profile of Hilary Mantel in the New Yorker, was most welcome. I was going to say it was surprisingly timely, as well, but I’m guessing it was actually in the paper because of Hilary’s second Man Booker win.

Congratulations! I’m not a Hilary Mantel reader (yet) but I gather she is marvellous. The profile was a thorough and interesting one, and Seana suggested it on account of similarities she could see between Hilary and J K Rowling. Perhaps J K will win the Man Booker at some point in the future. Personally I hope for more children’s books from J K, but you never know.

Somewhere to rub shoulders with great names in the book world, is at next year’s Crimefest in Bristol. I have been reminded that if you book a place before October is out, you can buy it with a discount. And once you have your pass booked, you can also have the hotel booking cheaper. Win-win situation, in which you get all those lovely professional murderers. Just imagine; you too can meet Søren Sveistrup, the man behind Forbrydelsen (The Killing).

What goes on in people’s brains could be interesting, too. Sorry, not people. Teenagers. Slight difference. Nicola Morgan is going to talk brains in Edinburgh next month. She’s good on brains. I was feeling all nice and safe from this lovely event, until I realised I could probably actually be there. But it will be fine. Interesting, and not gruesome. That’s when Nicola operates on people without anesthetics. I pass out and that’s that. This will be most civilised.

The Royal Institution is also about brains. They are making it easier, or more accessible for smaller brains perhaps, with a series of one minute videos. On real subjects!

Lena Hubbard

And to usher in the weekend, here are a pair of almost identical interviews with Swedish singer Lena Andersson. You might prefer the one in English. But should you be feeling adventurous, the Swedish one is here. (They are not identical. Obviously.)

The YouTube clips should have you singing.

Bookwitch bites #51

Are you people ready for more things I’ve not done?

This week I had hoped/intended/planned to attend the launch of the anthology Panopticon, published by Pandril Press. I thought it’d do me good to get out and rub shoulders with the Manchester literati. But there was the election and the tonsillitis and all sorts of things.

Iris Feindt at the Pandril Press Anthology Launch

I met Iris Feindt at the Manchester Children’s Book Festival in the summer and she had just written a children’s book which I read soon after. The reason you haven’t heard about it is that it’s still unpublished. But what has been published is this anthology, of which Iris is one of the contributors. She’s not alone, but I have chosen to illustrate the launch with a picture of her, since she’s the only one I would have known there. Had I made it.

But it looks like a good time was had by those who were there. The venue seems interesting, so one day I will investigate. There is so much I don’t actually know. (Admitting that didn’t hurt as much as I thought.)

The Pandril Press Anthology Launch

Also did not attend the Waterstone’s teen book club, and there is a gold star (sticky paper variety, obviously) to be won by whoever can work out why they didn’t want me there. The reason for my interest was their guest Annabel Pitcher, whose debut novel is My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece.

No prizes for guessing I haven’t read it. There is a very good reason for that. When I found out that David Tennant had agreed to read the audio book, I knew I just had to ‘read’ it with my ears. And I am, right this very moment. Almost. I’ve been sitting down with dear David whispering directly to me. It’s lovely!

Many thanks to Orion’s super efficient Nina for supplying me with Mr Tennant. Even if it’s ‘merely’ his voice. And I’m not too jealous as it seems she didn’t get to meet him…

The paracetamol

Hang on, it’s not me who’s the DT fan! It’s Daughter. Must be contagious.

She was. Possibly. Tonsillitis in never fun, but making your own ‘calpol’ was. Although we hadn’t quite expected the explosiveness of mixing soluble paracetamol with blackcurrant squash…

That’s science for you.

And whoever knew that the Royal Institution hosts discos? In my email inbox the message read ‘tickets still available for RI chairman’s disco. The full message, however, mentioned Sir Richard Sykes giving his inaugural discourse. Oh, the difference a few letters make!