Eat the Music

I've been reading Rosamund Lehmann over the past week - a romantic name to suit her romantic works. Her first novel, Dusty Answer, is written from the perspective of young, passionate, ever-so-slightly absurd Judith Earle who comes out with gushings like 'Oh how ridiculous, how sad, to have made one person into all poetry!' and 'You might write a book now, and make him one of the characters; or take up music seriously; or kill yourself'. She has, of course, large dark eyes, is incredibly studious, and loves to swim naked under moonlight. She falls in love a lot. But I'm sure she's every girl who reads the novel.

I'm also reading 'Birthday Letters' by Ted Hughes, despite the embarrassing effect of it bringing me to tears in public. But the more remarkable birthday thing of note is that Kate Bush is releasing her new album this month. My birthday month. I don't have a girl crush on Kate, rather I love her. This may sound like Judith Earle, but the thing is Kate is totally awesome. I heard her on Front Row a few days ago, and she is so straightforward, so matter of fact and the opposite of flighty when it comes to her work. And she loves her family and home life more than any music melodrama. And she's using the prose of Joyce in one of her songs. I love her unexpected accent (south England all over) and that she was known as 'Ee-ee' in her karate class because of her squeaky war cry. I could go on and on about all her lyrics, melodies, music videos, record sleeves, outfits, her whole art... I want to be her, let's leave it at that.