Category: Books

Some of the books in my life

Crime Novel Locations and Psychogeography
Introduction

This is a thought experiment exploring the psychogeography of how intimately knowing crime novel locations might impact upon reading these novels. When I read crime fiction the locations of murder mysteries are disproportionately important to me. I particularly enjoy coastal, rural and woodland settings, rather than the claustrophobia and impatience of cities.

I moved to Brighton in 1987, and I have lived in Saltdean since 2007. I have become very familiar with the suburb of Saltdean and the town of Newhaven, four miles from Saltdean. A thought experiment evolved, to read murder mysteries, very, very local to me. I chose three murder mysteries, one set in Saltdean and two set in Newhaven.

The specific murder mysteries came onto my radar by happy accident, rather than conscious design. In 2024, I attended Crime Waves, part of Shoreham Wordfest. Speakers talked about their respective crime books, and particularly relevant was Lesley Thomson, as Death of a Mermaid was set in Newhaven. Lesley referred to the music of the local mobile fishmonger. I had heard these slightly surreal tones whilst gardening, and this became Book One. Also, at Wordfest, Mark Edwards author of Keep her Secret referred to his murder mystery being set in Saltdean, which had to be Book Two. Finally, Pauline Rowson’s murder mystery, Death in the Harbour, was set in 1950s Newhaven. A book set in a town I knew well, but before I was born. This was Book Three.

I am not going to review these books here, and I do not want to spoil plots for others. Each book was enjoyable to read and proved to be very thought-provoking in different ways. The first two books were more psychological than I usually read. The third was closer to my favourite police procedurals. I found the 1950s historical context in the third book an intriguing diversion from my usual present-day focus.

The theme for woodlanddecay.com posts in 2025 has been psychogeography (see HERE). Psychogeography offers a creative perspective on relations between landscapes and conscious emotions and unconscious thought processes. Urban wandering around Saltdean and Newhaven enabled joining the fictional narratives of authors. In this way, I experienced Saltdean and Newhaven as crime novel locations differently, sharing the perspective of the author.

The next three sections focus on Books One to Three. A section offers reflections and insights from this thought experiment, before a postscript acts as a conclusion. The inclusion of author biographies and edited book overviews taken from the Amazon site is acknowledged through italics.

Book One – Death of a Mermaid (Lesley Thomson) Published 7^th May 2020

Amazon Biography “Lesley Thomson grew up in West London. Her first novel, A Kind of Vanishing, won the People’s Book Prize in 2010. Her second novel, The Detective’s Daughter, was a #1 bestseller and the series has sold over 750,000 copies. Visit her website at lesleythomson.co.uk.”

Amazon Overview “When Freddy Power was eighteen, her father threw her out. Her sin had been to fall in love with a woman. Freddy waited for two decades to be invited back into the family. The summons never came. But now, in the wake of her parents’ death, Freddy feels the call of home like a siren’s song. The trawlers emerging out of the mist. Fishermen unloading their catch down at the harbour. Her best friend, Mags, exploring the cliffs at sunset. But when she arrives at Newhaven, after twenty-two years of silence, her brothers and her friends act like strangers. Then Mags goes missing, and old secrets – and old passions – are reignited. Freddy is determined to lead the hunt for Mags – even if it means confronting her past, and facing the truth about her family…”

On reading Book One – Seeing Lesley on stage talking about this book and her other books, made the narrative more personal. My experience of fishing, Catholicism and lesbian culture, featured in this book are limited. This was not an impediment, and in some ways, I believe I learnt, even though this was fiction. The overarching emotion I felt whilst reading was one of frustration. It is a story of frustrated romances and frustrated ambitions. Unfortunately, I read this book at a time when health ailments precluded me from my passions of rambling and gardening. So, I found myself in a frustration waltz with these characters.

Newhaven offers an ideal landscape for the frustrated experiences of the characters. Once far more prosperous, Newhaven has a feel of being shortchanged by councils, developers and by economics. Lesley poetically referred to Newhaven as “the seaside town of best forgotten faces”. The lead character, Freddy, is returning to the town where she spent her formative years. The quotation alludes to the truism – never go back. Whilst set in the present, this book is all about personal histories which inform and reassure us, but can also haunt us.

Newhaven was once a vibrant port. The tidal Ouse connects Newhaven and Lewes. There is a reference to the mood being reflected in the yellow colour of the Ouse. Locally, we perceive the variations in the Ouse in terms of colour, but also pace and sound. The Ouse, often moving sluggishly, works well as a mood mirror.

I want local settings to be accurately depicted. Yet, there is no reason why an author cannot employ poetic licence to tell their story. Lewes Premier Inn and the homes opposite feature with Freddy and Andy having a heart-to-heart in the hotel bedroom. I know exactly where the author has located them. Having stayed in many Premier Inns over the years, I know the standardised bedroom “ambience”. It was a surprise to read about the hotel bedroom mini bar being stocked with Jack Daniel’s. I don’t remember Jack Daniels in Premier Inn mini bars, then again, I do not remember the mini bars.

As a counterpoint to my pedanticism, Lesley introduces me to places I hadn’t encountered on my urban wanderings. In particular, Newhaven cemetery with a statue near the entrance. I went in search of the cemetery and was impressed with the statue that greets you at the entrance (see below).

Lesley referred to the sounds from a mobile fish van in her talk. In the book, she references the sounds as the “…cringeworthy fanfare…” announcing the arrival of Freddy. It was these sounds that most intimately connected me with this narrative. I have heard the sounds Freddy’s customers heard. I wondered about the “cringeworthy fanfare” as I gardened, about the story behind these ironic sounds. It transpires that the mobile fish van was operated by Tim Woodward (Catch of the Day), as acknowledged at the end of the book.

Growing up in Newhaven, Freddy, Toni, and Mags called themselves the mermaids. The book moves from their hopes and dreams as girls to the women they became twenty years later. This was the overarching frustration and a source of sadness for me. A story not so much about what happened as what might have happened. Equally, Newhaven suggests a story of what might have happened.

Book Two – Keep her Secret (Mark Edwards) Published 30^th May 2023

Amazon Biography “Mark Edwards writes psychological thrillers in which scary things happen to ordinary people. He has sold 4 million books since his first novel, The Magpies, was published in 2013, and has topped the bestseller lists numerous times. His other novels include Follow You Home, The Retreat, In Her Shadow, Because She Loves Me, The Hollows and Here to Stay. He has also co-authored six books with Louise Voss. Originally from Hastings in East Sussex, Mark now lives in Wolverhampton with his wife, their children and two cats. Mark loves hearing from readers and can be contacted through his website, http://www.markedwardsauthor.com, or you can find him on Facebook (@markedwardsauthor), Twitter (@mredwards) and Instagram (@markedwardsauthor).”

Amazon Overview: “… a deadly secret turns a couple’s new romance into a nightmare. And they’re not the only ones who know the truth… After twenty years apart, Matthew and Helena have rekindled their college romance and are away in Iceland on their first holiday together. Swept up in the romance on a mountain hike, one moment they are taking the perfect photo, the next Helena is hanging from the cliff edge… Terrified, Matthew almost misses Helena’s sudden and shocking confession—but what he hears chills him to the bone. And when Helena reveals the full truth Matthew is horrified, not only by what she’s done, but why she did it. Does he really know her at all …?

On Reading Book Two – This book cleverly conjured up strong anxieties for me. At every twist and turn of the narrative, my anxieties were cranked up. I felt for the two lead characters, particularly Matthew, spinning downwards into the cleverly constructed vortex of the narrative. I found this an unsettling rather than a pleasurable experience. I prefer to align with the detective who passively observes and investigates the aftermath of crimes. However, this is my personal preference; I am certain the excitement generated for some would be a strength.

Overall, it was unusual and enjoyable to read a book set in Saltdean. Helena comments, “I live in Brighton … well, just outside”. Yes, we are connected to Brighton, yet simultaneously disconnected. There is a reference to Saltdean as “… a small village”. The village label seems to be fashionable, but Saltdean as a suburb works better. Suburbs sleep as stuff happens behind closed doors.

A white house high on a cliff overlooking the sea, with large windows, features prominently in the book. There is a real house high on the cliff referred to as the White House, and elements of this appear to have inspired the author. There is a reference to “The house looked like it had been airlifted from Miami”. We do have a bar called the L.A. Lounge in Saltdean. However, I think this is a reference to the main shopping street – Longridge Avenue, rather than Los Angeles.

At one point, Helena and Matthew go on a 15-minute walk from Saltdean to Rottingdean. I walk with them along the cliff top and then follow the undercliff. They reach a pub close to a pebbled beach with views over the English Channel and a nearby windmill. They eat a meal at what is now called White Horses. In the past, I have eaten meals in this pub/hotel with family and friends; memories come back to me. Rottingdean is “… a lovely place full of old houses and narrow streets lots of BMWs and Audis around”, a very good definition.

Mark’s narrative sucks Matthew into the darkness and deceit of criminality. Helena’s confession means that Matthew becomes increasingly implicated. Again, my personality means I would run quickly and as far away as possible. I want Matthew to walk away, but he has a strong attraction to Helena; apparently she might be the one. This is the conflict at the heart of the book. The anxiety-provoking question becomes – should I stay or should I go?

In terms of place, Saltdean works well as a sleepy backdrop for dark drama unfolding behind the closed doors of the White House. At one point, the storyline takes us to Beachy Head (near Eastbourne), described as “probably England’s most notorious suicide spot.” The base of Beachy Head is not normally accessible, but I was fortunate to visit as part of an organised walk. I was amazed by the art of an artist, referred to locally as “Planksy” (see below).

I have undertaken many picturesque walks close by Beachy Head. Equally, when characters go on other journeys, to Moulscoomb, Peacehaven and Newhaven and through the Saltdean underpass by the Lido to the beach, I know these journeys well. The book ends with an informative letter to the reader from Mark:

…I have taken some liberties with the geography of Saltdean. The cliff on which Helena’s house sits does not exist. And although there really were smugglers’ tunnels in that area, as in much of Sussex – including in Rottingdean – the ones in this book are invented.

He refers to a book about smuggling in Saltdean in the main narrative. I enthusiastically searched for this book on the internet. It is only when I refer to my copy of The Saltdean Story that I realise his Saltdean smuggling book is a narrative device. Mark acknowledges The Saltdean Story by Douglas D’Enno as being invaluable for research into smuggling in the area. Whilst the smugglers’ tunnels are acknowledged as invented, it makes me wonder about possible secret tunnels beneath my feet.

I was frustrated by the “liberties with the geography of Saltdean”, but I understand the reasoning, and for over 99.9% of the audience, it wouldn’t have been evident.

Book Three – Death in the Harbour (Pauline Rowson) Published 10^th Sept 2024

Amazon Biography– Hello, thank you for visiting my author page. I love creating fast-paced, twisting crime novels, set against the backdrop of the sea and I hope you get as much pleasure out of reading them as I do writing them. I live on an island on the south coast of England and when not writing, which isn’t often, I can be found walking coastal locations looking for a good place to put a body – fictional that is. I currently write three series: the DI Andy Horton Solent Murder Mysteries; the 1950s set historical Inspector Ryga Mysteries and the contemporary set thriller style mysteries featuring former Royal Marine commando Art Marvik. Happy reading.

Amazon Overview – 1950, Newhaven, East Sussex. One foggy November evening, Police Constable George Swinley disappears while working his usual beat. Four days later, his lifeless body is found floating in Newhaven Harbour. His death is ruled as an unfortunate accident, but his devoted wife Myra thinks otherwise. Then Myra herself goes missing and Inspector Alun Ryga is sent to the Sussex coast to investigate. But nothing can prepare him for what he’s about to find . . .

On Reading Book Three Death in the Harbour imagines Newhaven in the 1950s. Quickly, we learn that the recent World Wars overshadow everything. It was interesting that perceptions of characters were grounded and judged in terms of what they did or did not do during the war. That was a learning point for me.

I warmed to Inspector Alun Ryga from Scotland Yard. Despite the authority of Scotland Yard, Inspector Ryga was seeking to establish himself as a new murder detective. He always carries his murder case/bag with him whilst investigating. Today’s equivalent of a forensics team, but inside a bag. The murder bag also gives the Inspector some of the authority he seeks. Inspector Ryga asks too many questions of himself. In fairness, it might be a literary device to convey that he is new to his Scotland Yard role, this inner dialogue conveying understandable insecurities. I repeatedly warm to his vulnerability. The overarching emotion this book evoked was uncertainty.

I join the detective in this murder mystery. I even offer to carry the murder bag. I enjoy locating myself within the Newhaven landscape and comparing today with a keenly imagined yesterday. My perception of Newhaven today changes through immersion in Newhaven yesterday.

Venues such as The Bridge, I remember, though now gone. Fort Road still exists, though located on the other side of the harbour in this book. The swing bridge at the heart of Newhaven endures regardless of everything else, the fulcrum of this harbour town. The references to St Margaret’s in Newhaven are confusing. Landscape clues suggest to me that this church is St Michael’s. However, perhaps there is a reason for changing the name (hint/hint).

Wandering around Newhaven with the author, I think of the topography as being the roads, particularly the A259, I use when I go through Newhaven by bus to nearby Friston Forest. Today, I believe too many cars pass through Newhaven, to the detriment of the town. But this book encourages me to think more in terms of waterways. Boats feature prominently, with murders happening on or near the water. Different quays, harbours, and Denton Island become more significant in my understanding of Newhaven. In 1950, the prevalence of cars would have been far less. Tidal water flows dictate the rhythm and pace of the narrative, locating suspects and dead bodies close to water. The Ouse becomes a moody key character in Book Three.

Inspector Ryga confronts three prime suspects he believes to be the murderer. Unfortunately, each one effectively refutes his allegations. It is slightly comical, though possibly intended by the author. Imagine somebody playing Cluedo or Poirot with more enthusiasm than skill.

This book was the second in a series of five, and I am enjoying reading all of them. I do like an anti-hero stumbling around in the dark, but finally finding the light switch. The series includes a bizarre love triangle between Inspector Ryga, Sonia (ex-landlady of The Quarry Mans Arms) and Eva (the war photographer). He seems latently attracted to both women, yet uncertain what he feels for either of them. Consequently, storylines follow his oscillating feelings without Ryga ever acting on his feelings. This beautifully poetic sub-plot provides the mystery within the mystery. Yes, the overwhelming emotion which Book Three invokes is uncertainty.

Reflections and Insights

Five learning insights arise out of this crime novel locations thought experiment.

1)Inaccurate depictions of Saltdean and Newhaven frustrate me. It was an informative surprise that knowing locations was more of an impediment than an aid to my enjoyment. The authors did not make mistakes; they used locations as starting points, but then elaborated from these settings. Lesley needed to introduce Jack Daniels into a Premier Inn to lubricate the conversation. I am still left wondering about the existence of some of the smugglers’ tunnels beneath Saltdean described by Mark as “invented”. Pauline had to make certain changes to Newhaven related to the 1950s plot lest there were implications for people living there today.

The inclusion of author notes at the end of these books explains how locations are knowingly reimagined and the author’s reasoning. These notes suggest that other readers like me can be a bit too literal. Top tip: if an accurate depiction of a place is important, check for any author notes at the end, before you start!

2)Every depiction of a place must include subjective interpretations. Thinking a little more deeply about “inaccuracies” is informative. Anybody writing about Saltdean begins with objective facts and then inevitably moves into subjective impressions. My understanding of Saltdean is largely subjective. No literary depiction of Saltdean, however accurate, could completely match either my interpretation or my next door neighbour’s interpretation.

3)It is not the specific place, but the type of place which matters to me. It is the atmosphere and feelings certain places evoke which engage me. For example, I love watching TV detectives solving murders in forests. A natural setting can be descriptive, yet generic. I learn that I do not have to have visited the particular forest. I am learning that I connect with authors and, by association, their characters when they are out in nature.

4)History informs depictions of specific landscapes. Mark rekindled my interest in local smuggling history. There is a famous footpath out of Rottingdean known as the smugglers’ path. I enjoy imagining on my rambles following routes once used by smugglers. I was intrigued enough by the existence of a cemetery in Newhaven to visit (see earlier photograph). Pauline takes us on journeys between Seaford and Newhaven. Invariably, I make the journey by bus, others by car. However, seventy-five years ago, walking and rail travel were far more prevalent.

5)There is always an emotional context to places and their depictions. Various emotions were provoked whilst reading. As overarching emotions, I felt frustration, anxiety and uncertainty reading the three books. Frustrations and uncertainties certainly haunt Newhaven as the town seeks a new purpose and identity. Anxiety, though, is the antithesis of the sleepy suburb of Saltdean. I bring emotions to the party as the reader. How I am feeling is interrelated to the emotions invoked by the author. I am certain many readers enjoy the anxieties Mark conjures up. For myself, I am with Inspector Ryga quietly seeking certainties in an uncertain world.

The following is an extreme, though hopefully useful, final example of the centrality of local locations and emotions. About twenty-five years ago, I purchased The West Pier by Patrick Hamilton. At that time, I was living very close to The West Pier on Brighton seafront. I wanted to do something similar to the current thought experiment. I had to abandon the book after reading about a third. It was well written, and the historical depictions of local locations were interesting and meaningful. However, the author infused characters and places with dark emotions. The emotions were too close to my own at that time. Shane MacGowan sang “some drink to remember, some drink to forget”. In the thought experiment, reported here, I have learnt that some read to experience strong emotions, whilst others read to escape strong emotions.

Postscript

I wrote this post in August 2025 and continued decadently navigating different crime novels. It is now late January 2026 and this postscript is a sort of a conclusion to my thought experiment. I have been reading and enjoying The Fethering Mysteries by Simon Brett. They feature the South Downs and Sussex towns and villages with which I am familiar. There are references to Brighton, Lewes and Worthing which provide a kind of geographical scaffolding for locating smaller towns and villages. The novels focus upon a fictious village of Fethering with other pseudonyms used for neighbouring towns and villages.

The intriguing bit is that if you know the area, you have an insider feel for places featured, even when pseudonyms are used. Although not named, in one novel I feel like I am in Arundel and knowing Rustington helps me to understand the quirks of Fethering. One of the novels features Austen open prison. If you live locally you will have heard about Ford open prison. It adds to the reading experience knowing this potential juxtaposition. Equally if you have not heard about Ford open prison this will not impede your reading experience. These insider/outsider literary devices work for me and my conclusion is that this is the approach I favour.

In The Fethering Mysteries, I enjoyed the contrast between the two key characters Carole and Jude. As amateur sleuths, they are poles apart in terms of personality. At one point Simon Brett attributes these words to Jude “Lewes always had that effect on her. There was something gloomy and introverted about the town, a feeling of hidden evil that had lasted through many centuries.”

Personally, I like the pagan/magical undercurrents of Lewes. I am surprised that Jude given her liberal/new age leanings felt the way she did. This is how you begin to appreciate the wisdom of Simon Brett in his selective use of pseudonyms in these novels. Relationships between emotions and places will differ considerably for readers. The emotions we invest in places can also be strong and either positive or negative.
August 28, 2025
The Graveyard of Disappointed Hope
Introduction

Yesterday, I finished reading No Silver Bullet: Bursting the Bubble of the Organisational Quick Fix (NSB). I awoke this morning intending to begin writing this post, yesterday, I had no such intention. My unconscious also gifted the slightly depressing Graveyard of Disappointed Hope title for this post. In my sleep, I was processing thoughts and feelings about NSB, not so accessible to my conscious mind. Unconsciously, I was back amongst the workshop whiteboards, flip charts and coffee airports; back with my organizational change publication successes/failures, very personal hopes and despair.

NSB is as much about the invisible often unconscious emotional aspects of organizational life as the more visible and tangible conscious quick fixes. If we put the shortcomings of silver bullets to one side, they are carriers of strong and at times intoxicating emotions.

I worked for over three decades as an academic before volunteering for redundancy in 2019. Over that time, I observed the demise of change management, the rise of change leadership and the ascendancy of the leadership development fetish. Interesting times and as a Reader in Organizational Change, I was not a neutral observer.

I read NSB by way of preparation for a potential future conversation with Steve. We met at a staff seminar, about a decade ago and subsequently, we have had some water cooler conversations facilitating our respective workshops over the years. I virtually attended and enjoyed the NSB book launch and more recently enjoyed reading NSB.

I have a strong suspicion that it will be the last organizational change book that I read. If that is the case, I am grateful to conclude with such a meaningful and thoughtful read. I assure you that there was a lot of meaningless and thoughtless organizational change literature that I encountered.

I am going to major in this post on hope and despair regarding organizational change. However, first I need to balance the slight menace of the title of this post with a reassuring and uplifting Amazon-style book review.

Excellent Book (5/5)

I had high expectations before reading NSB. As I read the book these high expectations were repeatedly exceeded. The crude dichotomy characterizing much of the organizational change literature is as follows. Academic literature speaks to academics but disengages and excludes practitioners. Practitioner literature persuades practitioners but at the expense of academic engagement/respect.

I admire how Steve has been able to write a book with an appeal to two very different audiences with different agendas. The only audience excluded would-be academics and practitioners seeking a superficial read. This is a deep book, in NSB you have a sense of the author reliving his past experiences, but also living through (and surviving) the writing experience.

It took time for this weary old academic to read, largely because the book engaged me both emotionally and philosophically. However, I felt neither patronized nor overwhelmed. NSB is informed by both knowing scholarship as well as a deep and thoughtful engagement with the development and facilitation of organizational change practice.

In subsequent sections, I will illustrate the reflexivity NSB surprisingly encouraged. This reflexivity is enabled through Steve’s frequent very candid disclosures. In most of my academic writing, I had to maintain the artificial objective/subjective distinction. The first-person singular was taboo in academic writing, academic authority informed by excluding the self, that’s interesting. In reading NSB, I felt more like I was in a conversation than a lecture, refreshingly different from other organizational change books.

The Cemetery Gates

‘even disappointed hope wanders around agonizing, a ghost that has lost its way back to the cemetery and clings to refuted images.‘(Bloch, 1995:195)

The title for this post is taken from a quotation in The Principle of Hope, Ernst Bloch’s encyclopaedia of human hoping. I will return to hope and despair, but for now, we stand together at the Blochian cemetery gates. In this instance the gateway into a world of organizational ghosts and personal shadows. Whatever happened in my sleep last night I was taken to the gates of the cemetery of disappointed hope, in C.G. Jung’s terms, I am having to make my unconscious conscious.

In 2009, I was fortunate enough to be at a Critical Management Studies conference where Simon Critchley was one of the keynote speakers. He talked persuasively about passive nihilism. Instead of the terrorism of an anarchist, passive nihilists find the tyranny and manipulation in the world abhorrent, but focus on passive activities such as gardening and bird watching. Post-redundancy, I wear my passive nihilist t-shirt with pride lost in my twin passions of gardening and rambling.

In writing NSB, Steve appears to have sidestepped this passive nihilist cul-de-sac. Alternatively, he has hidden his existential angst very well. NSB and its no quick fixes subtitle does not offer the warm comfort blanket of certainty. Steve offers plenty of practical guidance, particularly in the two concluding chapters. There is also a very useful subtext throughout NSB about the benefits of being more reflexive and thoughtful in the processes of organizing.

In reading NSB and some of my writing and workshop facilitation I embraced the shift from doing to being. That said it is never easy to relinquish agency. The sleazy Just Do It (J.D.I) organizational slogan exists for a reason (even if it is a dodgy reason). In reading NSB I was in the realm of, Just Don’t Do It (J.D.D.I). There are plenty of references in NSB to corporate rebels and contrarians.

I enjoyed these folk tales they felt like my kind of people. I enjoy listening to The Road to Nowhere by Talking Heads and Everyone Knows This is Nowhere by Neil Young. The awkward part isn’t the journey, it is when you reach the existential nowhere.

So, here’s to you DiMaggio and Powell

The existentialist nowhere in the last section went a little too deep, a little too quickly. Perhaps I can lighten the load with the healing balm of institutional theory. I enjoyed facilitating many organizational change workshops with Steve Reeve and we worked well as a double act. He would approach organizational change from perspectives of political science, institutional theory and economics. I would approach organizational change from the perspectives of psychology, sociology and history.

Steve (R) covered the institutional theory of DiMaggio and Powell (1983) in our workshops. It always went down well with workshop participants, regardless of seniority, or sector background. Benign ghosts from these workshops joined me in reading NSB. DiMaggio and Powell helped me to understand why organizations copy each other. Once I had this insight, it informed my attempts to understand organizations.

They referred to institutional isomorphism which could take three forms; coercive, mimetic, and normative. Organizations gain legitimacy by copying each other. The interesting bit for me is that they have to copy other organizations, the agency of choice isn’t as prevalent as many imagine. If everyone else in your sector has an armoury of silver bullets and you have no silver bullets, you may well feel exposed, insecure and illegitimate.

As Steve (H) eloquently explains business schools and large consultancy firms are significant players in manufacturing and delivering silver bullets. I have a suspicion that organizational receptiveness to these munitions is cultivated through the forces of institutional isomorphism. There is a very real desire to be legitimate or at least signal legitimacy. At different points in NSB Steve refers to the tale of the Emperor’s new clothes. Even if it is blindingly obvious that the Emperor is not wearing any clothes, it is challenging to spell this out when everyone else is saying the opposite.

Steve repeatedly acknowledges the role of collusion which is very valid. However, for me, collusion was the precursor to co-optation. I had my moments explicitly questioning business school orthodoxy and Steve cites one of them. My (2011) provocative highlighting and questioning of the spurious nature of 70% change failure tendencies enthusiastically espoused by respected business schools/respected professors.

Yet, a decade later, Hughes (2011) was repeatedly invoked in Human Relations as the author who claimed change tends to fail (Schwarz et al, 2021). My irreverent critique of business school orthodoxy now co-opted into favoured business school orthodoxy – change tends to fail and we can help you succeed.

NSB has rightly been applauded, but the danger is that it is co-opted into the beige orthodoxy of organizational change. One of the paradoxes, witnessed over three decades was how resistant organizational change orthodoxy was to the type of change Steve encourages.

Too many words have been expended on the spurious goal of overcoming resistance to change (see HERE), perhaps it is time to overcome the resistance to change of organizational change orthodoxy.

Who Killed Change Management?

Sorry the last section was meant to be more upbeat, but I went back to another dark place of old battles and frustrated emotions. There are reasons why the unconscious lurks in the shadows. Possibly counterintuitive, but let’s visit another dark place. It’s around 2009, we have just experienced the global financial recession, and businesses and governments are broke. The organizational work we did for the university dried up. Politically we were out of favour and fashion in our institution, dark days indeed.

I stumbled across Who Killed Change? Solving the mystery of leading people through change by Ken Blanchard et al (2009). This frothy little book was written in the style of a Mickey Spillane murder mystery. The murder under review was the apparent tendency for change to fail. Who Killed Change, was the antithesis of NSB and could be paraphrased as – we’ve got silver bullets/quick fixes and we know how to use them. The hopeful news for readers was that Ken Blanchard companies were able to solve their murder mystery for a consultancy fee.

I wrote Who Killed Change Management primarily as therapy with publication in the wonderful Culture and Organization a welcome bonus. In following the detective style, I parodied the Blanchard et al parody. My detective delved into my growing concerns with practitioner depictions of change failing, but also the increasingly vociferous academic critiques of change management and the manageability of change.

Writing the paper was fun, but also helped me to understand the consultancy dependency on failure problems as the precursor to successful solutions. Business school/consultancy quick fixes were contingent on failure depictions, such as change tends to fail, regardless of the validity/reliability of such depictions. Also, at this time I began to explicitly and purposefully engage with the literature on hope and implications for organizing.

Hope – The Fuel of Progress

The politician Tony Benn was quoted by Younge (2002) in The Guardian as referring to hope ‘…as the fuel of progress…’ Hope fuels practical organizational agendas, as well as, the publication ambitions of academics, yet somehow remains implicit in these agendas and ambitions. Hope was a recurring theme for me in reading NSB, though on the pages it is more implicit than explicit. Perhaps in asserting no silver bullets/quick fixes, Steve Hearsum is the hope thief, apparently offering to replace hope with despair and optimism with pessimism.

Hope is integral to NSB and my concluding reflections on organizational change bookending my career. Although, unpublished I did a deep dive into the relationship between hope and organizing at a time when my life felt hopeless (see previous section). The following selective insights about hope feel pertinent to Steve’s NSB thesis.

In NSB the sloppy misrepresentations of Kurt Lewin and other scholars are rightly called out. In my hopeful quest, I wanted to know what Kurt said about hope.

‘…the importance of that psychological factor which is commonly called hope … Hope means that sometime in the future, the real situation will be changed so that it will equal my wishes.’ (Lewin, 1942: 80)

Lewin captures exactly what I am dancing around in this post. Academic critique plays a crucial role in social science. Bursting quick-fix bubbles informs organizational practices, but how does this take us to a future which equals my wishes, or are we on the passive nihilist road to nowhere?

I took reassurance from Halpin (2001: 107) ‘…frequently the state of being hopeful implicitly involves critical reflection about prevailing circumstances.’ This was the subtext I read into NSB which transforms silver bullet bursting from a hopeless activity into a hopeful activity.

In my hope literature review, an epiphany came when I unexpectedly understood the utility of despair. Nesse, (1999) suggests that events indicating our efforts will succeed arouse hope, whereas events indicating that our efforts are futile foster despair. Although not favouring this dualism, he acknowledges that the bias is so powerful, because the words hope and despair contain intrinsic judgements.

This acknowledgement is crucial to understanding the role of success and failure in organizational change, I feel a sermon coming on, but back to Nesse. Nesse (1999) highlights two persuasive illusions about hope and despair. Firstly, the illusion that hope and despair are opposites, they are dependent upon each other. Secondly ‘…that hope is a beneficial virtue and despair is a harmful sin. Both exist only because, in certain situations, they offer benefits’ (Nesse, 1999: 431).

The Who Killed Change Management moment featured in the previous section was my despair for the field of organizational change and my involvement in the field. However, out of the despair of this critical questioning came hope and fortunately subsequent successful publications and workshop facilitation. I perceive this down, through up and out trajectory when I read NSB, but that might just be me.

Leaders Solve Problems or Construct Problems?

I have an urge to address the leadership theme of NSB and as it is winter and my gardening has paused, I will indulge my urge. Heroic leaders fire silver bullets at the problems of organizational life. We mere mortals look on in complete awe, fantasising that one day we might get to wear our underwear over our trousers.

One of the best/most useful papers I ever read about leadership questioned such heroic leader orthodoxy. Problems, problems, problems: The social construction of leadership (Grint, 2005) highlights the involvement of leaders in creating the problem context they heroically solve. The paper unpacks the tame, wicked and critical problems organizations encounter and the applicability of management, leadership and command in addressing these problems (see further elaboration HERE).

I agree that there are no silver bullets, but even the perceived targets leaders point their big weapons at are often largely socially constructed. This position is incompatible with traditional leadership development and consultancy interventions. Over time critical voices are co-opted into the dominant and dominating orthodox narrative – “where are the leaders, what we need is leadership”. Very few business schools would teach students that leadership is about asking questions, whereas command is about offering answers (Grint, 2005). No, it is easier to peddle the pornography of strong leadership using the sleazy glamour models featured on The Apprentice and Dragon’s Den.

The Principle of Hope

A gate at sunrise in the frost

Hope was tangibly delivered when a member of the university library staff informed me that the three volumes of Bloch’s (1995) The Principle of Hope had arrived. My academic solution to a very human emotion of despair. Tragically, Bloch’s encyclopaedic historical account of hope was the most depressing set of books I ever read. Bloch’s historical overview highlighted human hopes repeatedly being manipulated and unfulfilled. He wasn’t against hope, his anger was targeted at those peddling false hopes. His anger was around the knowing manipulation of humans hoping to serve the power and financial interests of the manipulators.

Emotions are invested in particular organizational change initiatives such as hope, excitement, pride, fear, anticipation, confusion etc. Business schools and large consultancy firms have been masterful in their manipulation and monetization of these emotions as they successfully deliver and distribute silver bullets.

Earlier, I rhetorically caricatured Steve as the hope thief, but I never believed this. After reading NSB, I perceive him as the bouncer at the cemetery gates of disappointed hope. Just inside the gates, we see a small group of academics sobbing over the latest academic league table. Opposite them, smartly dressed consultants fondle their top-of-the-range smartphones. Steve in his brown overalls shuffles past a non-descript group of practitioners enthusiastically bounding towards the cemetery gates.

“Nothing for you here madam/sir, just the shells of dodgy old silver bullets and some cases of new silver bullets, move along please, we will be closing the cemetery shortly!”

Ghosts of disappointed hopes haunt too many of my reflections. However, these benign ghosts encourage critical reflection on past experiences. This reflexivity is the best defence against the manipulation of silver bullets and quick fixes.

If you can be patient and reflexive, the proposition that there are no silver bullets is a reason to be cheerful. If you have the courage to resist the isomorphism of adopting the latest silver bullet, your position is stronger not weaker. Questioning the silver bullet prescriptions of business schools and large consultancy firms is a basis for despair informed hope. If you are willing to embrace an ongoing and uncertain process of organizational change, one day the future might just equal your wishes.

Links

Further details about Steve Hearsum and his work are accessible HERE.

Fighting the habitual urge to conclude with a long list of references, I have attempted to embed links into the post at the first reference, though please note academic references are invariably firewalled.

In terms of my publications, I am willing and able to share a draft of a paper or chapter if required and not accessible to you, please contact me HERE.
The Graveyard of Disappointed Hope
December 31, 2024
Book Review – Forward Arsenal! By Bernard Joy (1952)

Christmas 1952, my Dad read Forward Arsenal! Seventy years later, it’s Christmas 2022 and I am reading my Dad’s copy of Forward Arsenal! I revisit the early history of Arsenal Football Club and reflect upon similarities and differences in football in general and Arsenal in particular.

Introduction

Arsenal’s first motto was ‘forward’ and as Joy writes, ‘for Arsenal it is always forward.’ Forward Arsenal!, explains the origins of an attacking approach to football and the early history of Arsenal. The book was published by Phoenix House Ltd in 1952 with the approval and cooperation of the club. The author Bernard Joy played as a centre-half for Arsenal and England, before becoming a sports journalist.

In this review, rather than going forwards, I want to go backwards to 1952 when Forward Arsenal!, was first published. This review has been an emotional journey in that my Dad passed away in 2009 and my Mum in 2022. However, reading the book proved to be an informative and thought-provoking meditation on change and transformation. Football remains exceptionally forward looking; anticipating match results, identifying new players and predicting longer-term outcomes of competitions. However, looking back seventy years provides a window on both change and continuities. In rushing forwards, we shouldn’t forget the past.

Christmas 1952

My sixteen-year-old Dad was given Forward Arsenal! for Christmas in 1952. Family legend has it that he spent all that Christmas enthusiastically reading this book from start to finish. Seventy years later, I decided that I would reprise my Dad’s experience and read his copy of the book for the first time over Christmas 2022. My Dad supported Arsenal, just as his Dad supported the club and just as I subsequently did. We were all born in Oswestry a small market town on the Wales/England border a town with a disproportionate number of Arsenal supporters. Why given the location and size of this market town did so many people support Arsenal?

Joy’s account of Arsenal runs from the very earliest Dial Square origins of the club up until 1952 with two managers playing a prominent role in his story; Herbert Chapman and Tom Whittaker.

Chapman groomed a young wing-half, Herbie Roberts, to take his (Jack Butler’s) place. Born in Oswestry and by trade a gunsmith, Roberts joined Arsenal for a mere £200 in December 1926, when twenty-one.

The successful Arsenal and international career of Herbie Roberts informed and further cemented Oswestry’s support for Arsenal. I have highlighted (red triangle) Herbie Roberts in the 1935/1936 photograph of Arsenal. My Mum gave this framed photograph to my Dad on his birthday, romantically writing on the back that 1936 was a very good year. It was the year that my Dad was born. Dad married Mum and later my sister and I were born as seventy years quietly passed by. Christmas 2022 was always going to be a bit different.

The Arsenal 1935/1936

Christmas 2022

Dad gave me his 1952 copy of Forward Arsenal!, many years ago, I treasured it, but confess that I’d never read it. When I was younger the book seemed to me like ancient history, relevant, yet not relevant enough. In 2022, much older and a little wiser, the book became relevant. Emotionally, the book offered me at a time of transition a means of sharing an experience with my Dad. Informatively, at a time of considerable change and transformation in football, the book offered a perspective from the past.

Whilst, sentimental I felt it would be meaningful to read the book at Christmas seventy years after my Dad had first read the book. I wanted it to be a reflective exercise and it took more time to read than for my Dad. Many friendly ghosts and memories accompanied my reading. My friend Jim a fellow Gooner who used to bring me his programmes after matches, sadly yet peacefully passed away over Christmas 2022. Writing this book review at times felt humbling, my role simply seemed to be to share the stories, the script had already been written.

Seventy years ago, the competing clubs were very different from today’s Premier League (think, Blackpool, Huddersfield and Preston) most of the names of players were new to me and even the labels for positions (half-backs, inside forwards, centre-halves and third-backs). Joy offers us a very enthusiastic game-by-game account of Arsenal’s progress through the first half of his history of the club. The book was well written, but it took time to read and write up this review because, in essence, I was time travelling through a very different terrain.

There is plenty of detail in Forward Arsenal! and inevitably the accuracy of details, has been queried (please see the AISA Arsenal History Society link). However, I do not want to replay the details of the book but instead, share two themes. Firstly, aspects of football have completely changed from seventy years ago, offering a fascinating window to witness such changes. The second theme is slightly contradictory in that some aspects of football in general and Arsenal, in particular, haven’t changed that much.

How were football and Arsenal different over seventy years ago?

This early history of Arsenal offers a means to contrast and appreciate how different the fast-moving and forward-looking football of today is from the past.

Football media we take for granted didn’t exist In the 1930s/1940s, there was neither the internet nor television and far less radio coverage of the game. Newspapers were the main media channel with far larger readerships and influence. This was the way people including the players learnt the fortunes of their club.

Joy at one point refers to the Arsenal players buying papers as they boarded the London train only to learn that they were no longer top of the First Division (today’s Premier League). Also, he tells the story of Arsenal players boarding a train after a Huddersfield game and not knowing if they had won the Championship (First Division). Denis Compton slipped off the train at Doncaster to buy some papers. He shouted to his teammates that based on the scores of their rivals they had won the Championship. Arsenal played Cardiff City in the FA Cup in 1927 with one of the Arsenal directors providing the BBC commentary.

This appears very different, although perhaps not so different as Pat Nevin with his Chelsea connections doing BBC commentaries.

An era of genteel criticism Criticism from supporters appeared to be genteel in this era. In the 1938/39 season Arsenal struggled financially and lost at home to Derby County with supporters showing their disapproval by singing the popular song.

No more money in the bank. What’s to do about it? Let’s put out the lights and go to sleep.

It’s difficult to reconcile such quiet resignation with the emotions of football supporters today. Joy didn’t dodge criticising the limitations of fellow football players, but this was always tempered with a humanistic acknowledgement of the strengths of that player. Football commentators today sound far more polarized, in wanting to highlight either the strength or the weakness of a player. Perhaps I am getting old but there is some good in everyone.

Very different stimulants Today, performance-enhancing stimulants are rightly banned from professional football, but this wasn’t always the case. Pep pills were used in an attempt to improve team performance. Joy tells the story of Arsenal players taking pep pills before a West Ham game in the 1924/25 season, however, this game had to be abandoned due to fog.

The pills left a bitter taste, a raging thirst and pent-up energy for which there was no outlet.

Forward Arsenal, documents very early international club matches. The story is told of Moscow Dynamo playing Arsenal at Highbury. The custom was to provide tea at half-time, but Moscow Dynamo feared that their tea might have been drugged, so apparently, they drank vodka instead.

Very late fixture changes Today, supporters rightly complain about fixture changes made at the behest of television companies. In the 1920s, the involvement of the Pools Promoters was problematic. The Football League’s objection was using fixtures without their authority and they declared war on them.

As a reprisal, they scrapped the original fixtures and the fresh matches were kept secret until the Friday, clubs being told before then only whether they were away or home. The idea was clumsy, irritating and more harmful to the League than to the Pools. It was dropped after a fortnight.

Very different footballing injuries Leg breaks, ankle sprains etc, are timeless, but reading Forward Arsenal, reveals some very different maladies. For example, Doug Lishman being run down and suffering from boils. Also, there is something beautiful about Joe Mercer’s wife Norah contacting Arsenal stating “Joe won’t be fit for Saturday, I’m afraid” she said. “He’s ill in bed with a heavy cold.”

Too many matches This is a complaint in the modern game, but such complaints seem petty when compared with how many games there used to be. In 1952, Joy writes about Arsenal holding on to a goalless draw at Blackpool, but going down to Bolton 2:0 the next day, with Joe Mercer playing his sixth match in ten days (no wonder he took to his bed).

What aspects of football and Arsenal FC endure over time?

Forward Arsenal!, as well as, highlighting changes, enables us to appreciate footballing continuities.

Is he Arsenal? In the introduction, Joy offers insights into what Arsenal looked for in a potential new player.

There is a most cautious vetting of a man in whose transfer Arsenal are interested; not only is his form watched over a series of matches but his background, both football and personal, is also investigated. “Is he Arsenal?” is the query.

At the time of writing Arsenal have just signed Leandro Trossard from Brighton. Mikel Arteta responds to press questions about Trossard’s professionalism.

We are very confident we are signing the right person and the right player. We know the player, we obviously dig into the experiences and the personality and the relationship he had at other clubs.

As a supporter in recent years, I have witnessed Arsenal signing quality players, who are not necessarily Arsenal players (players sat on the bench smirking when Arsenal were losing). Thankfully, these days, they do seem to meet the – is he Arsenal criteria, once again.

Searching for a winning football team formula is timeless. Which players and positions, the balance between, defence and attack? Reading about Arsenal over decades highlights the centrality of this quest for the winning formula. Arsenal in the Chapman/Whittaker era was a highly innovative team and frequently very successful.

The dilemma was that once Arsenal’s innovations had been emulated by other clubs the competitive advantage was lost. In recent years, the ‘high press’ has been regarded as a winning formula, but other teams learn such formulas and the quest has to begin again.

Defence begins in attack and the attack begins in defence I remember Arsene Wenger sharing this mantra in a television interview. I liked the sound of this, assuming that it was an element of his footballing philosophy. However, this verbatim quotation attributed to Tom Whittaker in the Board Room at Maine Road in 1946, highlights the history and centrality of such beliefs in Arsenal’s football philosophy.

“But our forwards are part of our defence” he said, “and our defence part of our attack”.

Joy warns against imitating the soccer Czars of the past This warning appears on the very final page of Forward Arsenal!, which concludes and was published in 1952. Throughout the book, he appears troubled by these soccer Czars. His concerns appear to relate to the involvement of Czars in team/recruitment matters and their glorying in the power conferred by controlling a great team. Seventy years later his warnings appear prophetic and even more relevant today in Premier League football, than when he was writing.

Thankfully, ‘fighting qualities’ and ‘team spirit’ currently define Arsenal FC. Forward Arsenal! opens with this sentence ‘fighting qualities and team spirit are the most essential features of an Arsenal team.’ In fairness, these qualities are the essentials of any football team. In the case of Arsenal, their absence was evident towards the end of the Arsene Wenger era, but thankfully they have returned.

In conclusion

In 1952 my Dad experienced Joy at Christmas and seventy years later I experienced Joy at Christmas in 2022. A few years ago, Arsenal struggled and Joy highlighted how this sometimes happened to Arsenal in the early years. In looking at football over time, rather than in the immediate moment, you witness the cyclical nature of football fortunes. I am old enough to remember Man Utd being relegated and the lengthy wilderness years of Man City. Although, I wasn’t born when a neighbouring London club last won the First Division/Premier League.

Football and Arsenal need forward-looking expectations of the next match, just as they did in 1952. However, these expectations can be complemented with backwards-looking accounts of footballing history. Herbie Roberts didn’t just represent Arsenal and England, he also represented the hopes and dreams of the town of Oswestry. Stories about my Dad, his Dad, my Mum, and my friend Jim are all part of a larger Arsenal story. At the time of writing Arsenal are redeveloping the Emirates with careful attention being paid to the importance of Arsenal’s history.

Armoury Square memorial stone for Derek Hughes 1936-2009

Early in December 2022, I visited Armoury Square to see a memorial stone I had laid to remember my Dad. On a very frosty morning, it was a heart-warming sight. Equally moving was the sight of the many other stones and the human stories that they represent.

In the Drake/Whittaker glory years Arsenal were often top of the table. When I was reading Forward Arsenal!, Arsenal were top of the Premier League and they still are as I conclude writing up this emotional review. This is a source of joy for every Arsenal supporter. Forward Arsenal!, documents footballing fortunes ebbing and flowing, but seventy years later the memories and the stories still remain.

Links

The Arsenal website offers plenty of information about the history of the football club.

https://www.arsenal.com/history

Forward Arsenal, is listed as one of 50 books to build your Arsenal library.

https://arseblog.news/2019/03/50-books-to-build-your-arsenal-library/

There is never a single history, but multiple accounts of history. In this spirit, I acknowledge the AISA Arsenal History Society’s factual concerns with Forward Arsenal.

https://blog.woolwicharsenal.co.uk/archives/24296?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=1-april-1935-bernard-joy-the-man-who-miswrote-arsenals-history-makes-his-debut

January 24, 2023
Understanding End-of-Life Care: A Practical Guide

Introduction

Initially, I outline the target audience for this end of life care book, introduce the contributors and share my motivations for undertaking this review. This is followed by the substance of the book. The review ends optimistically, tempering serious themes discussed with an acknowledgement of beginnings.

Beginnings

The target audience for this practical guide is those caring for individuals at the end of their life. This is primarily those working in end-of-life care, but the authors are careful not to exclude family and close friends who might be involved in this role. All contributors to the book were based at Princess Alice Hospice (Esher/Surrey) at the time of publication (2015). One of the strengths of this book is the different end-of-life care specialisms represented in this book.

I have three motivations for reading and reviewing this book. Firstly, at a philosophical level, the sixties mystic Alan Watts in his talks often referred to the value of meditating on our death. More recently the Latin phrase Memento Mori (remember you must die) has increasingly surfaced on social media. I had been very reticent to look into the ‘black box’ of death but recently felt emotionally ready to engage. My second motivation is far more personal. Clair Sadler the Editor of this book is my sister.

The copy I have been reading she gave to me when the book was published. In the inscription, she wrote ‘… I hope you think it is a “good” read.’ Clair, ‘it is a very good read’. I am biased, but the only way I would know for sure was by reading the book. My third motivation relates to the second one. In the past I recommended this book to friends, I did this with good intentions. As my friends dealt with the emotional and practical challenges end-of-life care raises, my good intentions always felt a little crass. Writing and publishing this post seems far less prescriptive, more passive and more sensitive.

How you begin to engage with this practical guide will be influenced by your motivation for reading. The book took me far longer to read than I had anticipated. The contributors emphasise the precious nature of time at the end of life and also the need for sensitivity. They also encourage readers to reflect on the subject matter. In meaningfully reading this book you have to reflect. If you read this book abstractly, I suspect you will miss the point. I found myself reflecting both on past events and events still to happen. You need to be in the right frame of mind to undertake such reflections.

Endings

After the Foreword and Introduction, chapter titles helpfully employ questions. This is a practical guide and these are the practical questions you might want to answer. Initial chapters cover the meaning of end-of-life care, the people involved and their communications. I learnt that according to the Dying Matters campaign (please see links at the end) there are over 200 euphemisms for dying and bereavement. Next, there are chapters on the common physical and non-physical symptoms at the end of life. It was unsurprising yet reassuring to this lay reader that a patient-centred approach was favoured, typified by ‘the patient is the expert in what they are experiencing’ (Page 101).

I next learnt about help for the families and the influence of beliefs, values and attitudes on dying. My mental model up to this point had been that I was learning, reading about and engaging with the loss of life. On page 116 one of the complexities of end-of-life care hit me like a steamroller. Losses go beyond the loss of life. End of life care is about acknowledging and working with the loss of roles, the loss of a future and the loss of independence.

For example, lost roles might include grandparents, friends or daughters and lost futures might be about holidays and adventures which were on the horizon. Lost independence is about acknowledging the increasing need for care from significant others. The next chapters cover the last hours of life and practicalities after somebody has died. There are two final chapters on looking after ourselves and frequently asked questions which I will return to in the final section.

Stories of three families are used as illustrative cases throughout the book. These are Maria Brambila, Albert Hughes and Jenny Baxter. In the early chapters, we get to know Maria, Albert and Jenny and then follow their end-of-life journeys. The cases are well written and inevitably induced considerable empathy. However, do not underestimate the power of this book to surface your real-life case studies. Contributors emphasize the importance of boundaries for those working in end-of-life care.

However, for this lay reader, there were no boundaries as I processed memories and future anxieties. I wish my processing had been exclusively altruistic, but some of the aspects of nursing took me back to personal experiences of hospital surgical care. My point here is that it is difficult to abstract yourself from what you are reading and abstraction is not the way to go.

My specialism is organizational change a field characterised by uncertainties. However, as a lay person, when I look into the world of palliative care, I begin to comprehend the real meaning of uncertainty.

… to help them have a ‘good death’. This is our goal but not always achievable and this can be difficult for us to accept sometimes. (Page 155)

I learnt that with all the will in the world you cannot necessarily orchestrate a ‘good death’. Each individual will experience a unique set of physical and non-physical symptoms with the severity and duration of these symptoms varying considerably. Practical guidance is offered to enable planning and strategies to address and even pre-empt symptoms, but uncertainties remain. Time is precious in end-of-life care, but again it is difficult to offer any certainty around a timeline of events. Again, practical guidance is offered, particularly around questions that are likely to arise around life expectancy.

As well as, for those working in end-of-life care, family and friends will be involved. Family involvement can range from a child making sense of dying for the first time, to somebody grappling with their dementia whilst fearing losing a loved one. Who is involved and how they engage in these processes becomes another uncertainty? This isn’t just about the end-of-life care for the individual, it is about caring for those they leave behind. A powerful reminder from Saunders (1989) is shared.

How people die remains in the memory of those who live on.

So, so true, yet I imagine profoundly challenging to facilitate those good memories. In terms of place, this may potentially be in the home, in a hospital or a hospice. This needs to be tempered with the care that can and perhaps needs to be provided in a particular place. Also, the availability of hospice beds becomes a consideration.

In the penultimate chapter the focus shifts to the carer in answering the question how do we look after ourselves? The chapter opens with a couple of powerful sentences.

Caring for people at the end of their life can be rewarding and enjoyable. It can, however, also be really tough and demanding, both emotionally and physically. (Page 169)

Acknowledging doing potentially rewarding work, yet also emotionally and physically demanding work offers a philosophical balance. Even after reading this book, I cannot fully empathise with my sister and those who choose to do such meaningful work. There were some emotive passages in this book, but there was only one that poleaxed me. It was a short case extract focused on a carer.

Since Erika started working as a carer, she never had any sick leave but today she has not come to work. She has texted one of her colleagues to say that she has had enough of looking after people and cannot be bothered to come in, she said they ‘owe’ me a sick day. This really is out of character for her. (Page 170)

More proactively the chapter addresses the very real challenges that may arise when providing end-of-life care. Setting boundaries, dealing with burnout, building resilience and mindfulness are discussed. But what comes through strongly towards the end of the chapter is the value of supervision and talking this caring role through with another person. The concluding chapter addresses frequently asked questions. I had actively engaged with this book, which isn’t always the case when I am reading. I was pleasantly surprised that I could answer these questions from what I had learnt from earlier chapters.

End of Life Endings and Beginnings

Inevitable uncertainties of end-of-life care were acknowledged in the previous section, but with that very real caveat in mind, I want to end more optimistically. These two sentences offer readers hope.

Most people spend the majority of the last year of their life at home, often with support and care mainly coming from their families. (Page 114)

…more people die peacefully than don’t. (Page 155)

One of my motivations for reading this book related to reflecting on Memento Mori (remember you must die). On several occasions, this book spoke to my motivation, for example:

How do we know what we value in life? Perhaps we only fully understand when it becomes certain it is coming to an end. (Page 132)

At the end of this book, I didn’t have an epiphany around Memento Mori. I am glad that I made the time to read this book and engaged with the ‘black box’ of death. This book was well written and effectively organized. That said, it wasn’t an easy read, but then again it isn’t an easy subject. So, no epiphany, yet I found letting a little light into the ‘black box’ of death illuminating. I start every day with thirty minutes of meditation. After reading this book I revised my meditation practice by incorporating, a four-minute gratitude for life guided meditation. This may have been coincidental, or perhaps my epiphany was subtler than I had imagined.

Mark and Clair (not a recent photograph)

The slightly doomy woodlanddecay.com title for this site alludes to optimism. I do love woodland walking, particularly ancient woodlands. Whilst, the verdant new growth captivates and seduces us, woodland magic is happening beneath our feet. New growth grows out of the old-growth, before itself becoming old growth. This cycle of life and the interdependence between the new and the old reassures me and gives meaning to the inevitable transitions in my life and the lives of those I love.

I acknowledged at the beginning that my sister Clair edited this book. As I read and contemplated hidden family references embedded within some of the cases Clair, as well as, significant others were with me. The black and white photograph was taken of the two of us at the beginning. Subsequently, we have both had to navigate and continue to navigate the many uncertainties and adventures everyday life presents. In this sense, there is continuity with end-of-life uncertainties. Perhaps life prepares us to navigate some of the end-of-life uncertainties. There are endings, but thankfully there are also beginnings.

Reference

Saunders, C. (1989) Pain and impending death. In P.D. Wall and R. Melzak (eds) Textbook of Pain. 2nd Ed. Edinburgh, Churchill Livingstone, pp.624-31.

LINKS

A practical guide to end-of-life care

Sadler, C. (Ed). (2015) A practical guide to end-of-life care. McGraw – Hill Education/Open University Press, Maidenhead.

https://www.mheducation.co.uk/a-practical-guide-to-end-of-life-care-9780335263561-emea-group

Hospice UK

https://www.hospiceuk.org/our-campaigns/dying-matters

Details and very accessible resources about the Dying Matters campaign are available on the Hospice UK website. The following extract from their website gives a flavour of the campaign.

Talking about death, dying and bereavement is hard. It can feel awkward or uncomfortable and sometimes, you just don’t know what to say. Dying Matters is the campaign that’s trying to change that. Our mission is to break the stigma, challenge preconceptions and normalise public openness around dying.

Princess Alice Hospice

Further information about the Princess Alice Hospice based in Esher, Surrey and the services that they provide is available here:-

https://www.pah.org.uk/
Understanding End of Life Care: A Practical Guide

April 18, 2022