Black Hats and White Hats

When we were children we would play the politically incorrect game of Cowboys and Indians and no one really wanted to be an Indian because that meant that you were the baddie and you had to lose.

Life was simple as a child. You knew where you stood. The game was well defined and had clear rules, even going as far as to define which type of children could be cast in each particular role. As a nerdy, bookish girl I was inevitably an Indian. If you tried to give your character redeeming qualities then you were told in no uncertain terms that you weren't playing properly, "No, you're an Indian. Indians can't help an injured Cowboy. You're a baddie. You have to die!"

The Rolf Harris verdict has reminded me that life isn't a childhood game but so many people wish it still was. The shock around the verdict is still reverberating. People can't believe it of him; he wore a white hat; he was a good guy; part of our childhood, where good guys never did anything bad. And then Vanessa Feltz (the baddie: fat female and gobby) dared to write an article describing the moment when he got his hand in her pants live on TV and much of the world nailed their colours to the mast. As the baddie, it was her fault and anyway no one really believed it because the good guy would have had more taste, SURELY? The article received some seriously disturbing comments and Twitter filled itself with Ukip supporters who thought they had a duty to remind us of the rules of the game.

This weekend I also finished reading The Goldfinch. I loved this book until I got to the last few pages. It was confusing. How could something I'd loved for so long disappoint me so much at the end? (Just how people feel about Rolf) But I have come to terms with it. Whilst I haven't forgiven it for lecturing me about what I should think I do understand that the clues were there all the way through. 

The author had told me how to view the painting, she had described in minute detail what the brushstrokes should make me feel. It was inevitable that she would want to control how I viewed her art. I was also a little encouraged. It was one of those books that I read with jaw-dropping admiration. The prose was beautiful, the plot lines were full of twists that kept me on the edge of sanity, there was a real understanding of character and it all made me a bit depressed.

Sometimes I delude myself by thinking that one day I will write a novel. I keep telling myself that it's not too late because Mary Wesley had the first of her 10 best selling novels published when she was 71 but then you read a book like the Goldfinch and think, "I could never do that!" However, the ending encouraged me. I've never been any good at endings either.

Dutifully, I logged onto Goodreads to write a review because despite being cast as an Indian I have always been a Goody-Goody and I'm still a bit scared of Mrs Thaine, who would hit you with a ruler if you didn't review a book after you'd read it. I was surprised at other reviews. I didn't expect everyone to love it - it is but I was shocked that people didn't like it because there was quite a lot of 'bad' in the central character. That was against the rules of the game. The central character has to be a white hat wearing hero. You have to love them all the time, so they can win at the end, without your world view being tainted.

One of the reasons I like the Goldfinch is that the characters are realistic; not like anyone I know (thankfully) but they are complex. I particularly liked Boris (who would terrify me in real life) because he constantly surprised me. I was torn by both wanting the shadowy figure seen outside the shop to be him and not to be him and he's voice sounded like the Meercat from the TV advert in my head. It's how I feel about real people. So when I shouted, "Oh go away!" when the doorbell rang yesterday and my daughter pointed out that the window was open and whoever was at the door would have heard me, I was still really glad to see my neighbour and the spanner they had borrowed. (This is why I could never write a novel - suspense, intrigue and spanners!)

As I'm so bad at endings I just wanted to show you a note book I've bought for planning a trip.

It's got a section for each day of the trip with folders and a zip up wallet. I find that stationary is the only constant; the thing that never disappoints. A notebook is always the good guy.