The Quarry Men’s Banjo Player, Rod Davis, Recalls, “I Had Bought The Banjo From My Uncle And If He’d

I enjoy your blog and opinion especially father and son McCartney. I don't mean anything bad with this post. I just try to understand Paul a bit more. Can you give some opinion about Paul's relationship with his Mother Mary, the aunts, and the stepmother and sister Ruth. I've seen some posts and read a few biographs but it doesn"t really seem to fit. Do you think his Mother would have allowed Paul to become a part if the band? And this is just a personal question to you. Do you think that Paul's father might have thought about the queer posibilty with Paul and John?

Hahaha you're like "you do know he has other family members too, right?"

And you are so correct! Thanks for asking this, I'm really excited to get into my thoughts on these extremely niche, rare Beatles characters lol.

Long rambling road under the cut

Mary:

Born to an Irish immigrant father and a Liverpool-Irish mother in Liverpool.

When her mother died when she was very young, her father lost everything in a horse racing bet and moved them back to a tiny farm in Ireland where she was expected to become the new mother to her younger siblings

When her father remarried, his new wife basically acted like Cinderella's step mother to Mary, so she found shelter with some aunts in Liverpool.

At 14, she started working full time as a nurse, while continuing to train to expand her skill set.

By the time WWII came around, she was a state registered nurse and midwife.

She was 31 when she met Jim. At that age at that time, she was considered a spinster. Secondary sources say she was too career-driven to have thought of marriage, and that's possible. But my theory is she just wasn't interested in the whole husband and kids thing after her childhood experiences. Whatever the case, Jim won her over easily, according to sources.

Jim also won her over when it came to religious studies. Apparently, before Jim Mary was a somewhat faithful Catholic, and though it mattered enough to her to have her boys baptized (or christened or whatever it is they do to babies) and taught the basics of the religion at home, she agreed they would not go to Catholic school or attend mass. My theory is this was a class climbing thing.

Because they were part of the war effort, Jim and Mary were allowed to live in government housing, and they continued doing so after the war because Mary continued working for the government.

Paul and Mike always say it was her choice to constantly be moving to slightly nicer apartments in slightly nicer areas. I don't know if she earned that choice through just being really dedicated to her job or through diplomacy with whoever was in charge of that or both, but I would love to know. We know Paul got his diplomacy skills from Jim and trauma, but could be also have some from Mary's side?

Mary was apparently quite strict with her children, had extremely high expectations for academics, behavior, cleanliness, and even accent. She must have approved at least to some degree of Jim's corporal punishment, because she would threaten to call him in when she was very upset with her sons (for example, when Paul drew a nude woman at school). She was the more affectionate parent, but neither Paul nor Mike describe her as notably cuddly or doting, and if she only managed to say to her husband that she loved him on her death bed, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibilities that she did the same to her children.

When Paul has been asked about his earliest memory, he has mentioned three things that I'm aware of. 1. Waiting to hit some bully over the head with a crow bar (sounds too crazy to be true but also too crazy to be a lie) 2. A neighbor gifting his mother a porcelain doll in gratitude for her work to bring their baby into the world (he says people would bring gifts often) 3. His mother bicycling to work in the snow (she continued to ride her bicycle to work even doubled over in pain during her struggle with breast cancer, and she was on call at all hours of the night and day)

Although Mary worked very hard outside the home and always made more money than Jim, it seems she also took on the majority, if not the entirely, of the housework. Before her death, Paul remembers her heaping piles of pancakes on shrove Tuesday, sugar butties, scouse, and yorkshire pudding with golden syrup. After Mary's death, Mike remembers eating bread fried in lard, fighting over it with Paul, and ending up throwing it at the wall, leaving a stain, and getting in trouble. Paul also took on cooking responsibility after Mary's death. Mary kept the house immaculately clean. She refused to own a clothes washer, saying it was immoral. When she was literally about to die from tumors in her breasts and brain, Mary deep the whole house and laid out her children's clothes, so everything would be ready if she didn't come back. (Which is insane on multiple levels. 1. That poor woman. Why did she feel like she had to do all that? 2. As a mom, I'd rather spend that time doing some activity my children enjoyed or talking with them or writing them letters or something, but for whatever reason, either Mary just didn't have that in her, or she genuinely thought the house was more important)

Paul definitely has (or had) a lot of strong feelings about Mary. Two of his biggest regrets as far as things he wishes he hadn't said had to do with her. The first was while she was alive. She, as mentioned before, was very big on the Received Pronunciation accent because she was very big on giving her sons a better life than she'd been given and at the time that was a major key to the class ladder. Anyway, once, when they had company over, Mary was trying to talk posh, and Paul corrected her in front of the company and she was clearly very embarrassed and he immediately regretted it and continued to regret it for decades. Then there's the infamous (VALID!) "what are we going to do without her money?" quote, which has been talked about. I bring it up here to point out that pre-teen Paul very much depended on his mother financially. Speaking of memories of his mother, though, Paul said, in the early 2000s I believe, that if he could go back in time for any reason, it would be to spend more time with his mother.

The family didn't have money for a marked grave at the time (I assume) and her grave remains unmarked to this day, probably for privacy and respect, but someone on the Mohin side of the family made a big stink about it on the internet because Paul was apparently stingy with that side of the family. Whatever.

My I guess nutshell take on Mary is this. Paul didn't really think his mom was cool like he thought his dad was, but he understood that she was the parent he needed to model himself after if he was going to be successful, so he tried to be practical, hard working, perfectionistic, ambitious, stoic, dependable, gentle, strong, etc like she was.

Mike:

I really think this quote sort of defines the complication and depth of love in their relationship.

Everybody was quite confident that Paul would pass the eleven-plus – for Mum and Dad thought of him as the brains of the family. And of course, he didn’t let us down, because he was a natural at exams. When I passed in my turn, it was so unexpected, apparently, that Mum burst out crying – I think the idea that she had two “intelligent” sons was too much for her! They say sensitivity often goes with intelligence and certainly I’d say this was true of Paul. Although on the surface he tried to give the impression that he was a fairly tough, swashbuckling, mildly-tearaway character, underneath there was a great deal of thoughtfulness and real tenderness.” – Mike McCartney, 1965

They also did all the normal sibling stuff like dangerous dares, rough housing embarrassment, stupid shenanigans, etc, and there are stories of Paul coming to Mike's aid when it came to bullies at school and their dad. There's all the great pictures Mike took of Paul with the camera Paul got him, the McGear album, and Paul being Mike's best man.

My take is that they were and are very close and loving and protective of each other despite being sort of accidentally pitted against each other by the toxic family roles they fell into.

Aunts:

Just on Jim's side there were six aunts, and on Mary's there were potentially three, though I'm not sure how close they were with that side of the family.

btw very weird naming going on. There's an Ann and an Annie as well as having an auntie Jin, Jim's older sister.

Jim's side actually started having these "family sing songs" when he was very young for the purpose of making money for the family the minute they were gifted that piano Paul learned on. They'd advertise and charge for admission to these things. They kept them up, just for a family bonding experience, long after they'd all got grown up jobs and spouses and kids. Paul remembers these events extremely fondly, credits them for much of his success as a composer, and brings them up any time anyone asks about his family life growing up. The drunken singing aunties generally feature prominently. Paul also kept up the tradition at least into the late seventies.

Paul and Mike were sent to live with a few different aunties for a few months after Mary's death while the family tried to get Jim's suicidal ideation etc under control. Accounts vary, but I believe it was once of these aunts who told them the news about their mother and sent them to school that very day.

Some of the aunts would take turns coming on about a biweekly basis to help Jim Paul and Mike around the house after Mary's death. We don't know if this continued indefinitely or just until they could get their feet under them again. Either way, they definitely get points for doing that.

Auntie Jin once told Mike and Paul off for looking unhappy soon after their mother's death and reminded them to think of their father and stop acting so sad. Well meaning, I'm sure, since she was probably terrified for them that one little thing could result in their losing a second parent in the most horrible way. But. Definitely scaring.

Auntie Jin was known as "control" and was very much the Queen Bea of the family.

Once Paul got money, he began paying for extended family expenses, like phone bills, hospital stays, or new furniture. This obviously includes the aunties.

When the extended family heard he was getting into weed, they sent Auntie Jin to go talk some sense into him, but he converted her and she went home and converted the whole family.

My general take on the aunties is this. They all seem to be doing their very very best with very very little. I don't even begrudge the emotional abuse because they genuinely didn't have a better option. I do wince at the financial exploitation, but only slightly. It's one of those things where you would hope they'd have a little more empathy for their nephew holding up the family like Louisa from Encanto, but nobody is perfect.

Angie:

Married a man almost 30 years her senior after meeting him five times to make sure he had full access to his millionaire son's bank account.

Enabled, or at least did nothing to stop, her husband's crippling gambling addiction, instead allowing her stepson to cover the damages.

Resented when said unlimited bank account turned into an allowance upon said son's marriage and fatherhood.

Panicked when her ancient husband kicked it and immediately sold off the famous son's personal childhood mementos while he was conveniently in another country for work.

Got pissed and went to the press when stepson cut her off.

Calls herself Mrs McCartney to this day for marketing purposes and milks that dead relationship like an abused dairy cow.

Do I blame her for getting that bag? Not really. Am I a fan? Not really.

Ruth:

Remembers thinking Jim's new mansion and the nice things inside it were impossibly huge and fantastic when she first met him.

Remembers Jim as kind, gentle, and stoic.

Remembers Paul's time with Jane Asher very fondly and seems almost to credit her for her positive early memories of Paul, such as them (she also remembers John) teaching her how to ride a bike or taking her shopping. Paul bought her a dog and they'd play in the backyard and experiment when being parents on her and she loved it.

Her remembrances shift dramatically with the arrival of Linda. The shared bank account closed, Paul was focused on his actual children, and she has a few memories of Paul verbally taking out his pain on her similar to the apple employees.

Then, she gets almost Francie Schwartz levels of bitter after Paul cut her and her mother off. She was almost seventeen, and Paul had paid for her to go to all the best schools all her life and set her up with every possible advantage, not to mention the famous connection she'd go on to drag into the next century. I don't feel bad at all.

My basic take on her is this. Spoiled brat. Excellent source on Paul and his dad.

Did Jim think John and Paul might've been gay for each other?

My gut tells me yes, but there's really no way of knowing. Jim might've hated John because he was worried about Paul's sexuality, or he might've just hated John for being a positive presence in his son's life who encouraged independence. Who knows?

In December 1964, Dusty Springfield toured to South Africa. She was horrified by apartheid, so her contract specified that she would only play to non-segregated audiences (the same tactic the Beatles had used in the American South earlier that year). It didn’t go well: South African officials came to her hotel pressuring her to sign a declaration that she would only play to segregated audiences, making veiled threats that it would be dangerous for her to go outside.

After several performances, she was deported. The South African government announced: “Miss Springfield was on two occasions warned, through her manager, to observe our South African way of life in regard to entertainment, and was informed that if she failed to do so she would have to leave the country. She chose to defy the Government and was accordingly allowed to remain in the country for a limited time only.”

The Beatles’ Ringo Starr was one of many to rush to her defence, saying “Good for Dusty. I would have done the same thing. It’s stupid to have segregated audiences, especially as the music came from the Negroes in the first place.”

“Negro” sounds dated now, but in 1964 it would be the most respectful term to use (it was Martin Luther King’s preferred wording). Beatle biographers tend to leave Ringo out of political discussion, so it’s interesting to see him weighing in - particularly the way he takes the opportunity to emphasise who created rock’n’roll.

Sharon Davis, Dusty: An intimate portrait of Dusty Springfield, 2008

"He capered before them down towards the forty-foot hole, fluttering his winglike hands, leaping nimbly..." On Instagram

A couple of fics I wrote

I got an ao3 account this year and have 2 fics in the Beatles fandom that I'm a little proud of. Both character studies focused on late 1970s John in NYC. Have a read if you're so inclined. Username bodhbdearg.

Where I would be: Househusband era John is very depressed and disengaged from music, but is nudged out of it by folksinging lesbians & NYC queer culture.

Singing a song of ruin: Writing DF-era John is no longer depressed, and spends a night trying to talk someone out of jumping off a bridge.

The dash of Beatles magic comes as they reach the end of the verse and bounce together on the strung-out “pleeeeeeease . . .” answered by Paul’s solo “ . . . love me do.” The spirit in the harmony and the expectant silence that follows heightens the sense of anticipation...

<...>

In the drawn-out “plee-ee-ease” of “Love Me Do” the lilting harmonies yearn politely—in “Please Please Me” it’s dirty and polite all at the same time. John and Paul’s verse duet gains on the Everly formula: Paul stays on the initial high note as John pulls away beneath him (“Last night I said these words to my girl”), putting the Everlys’ “Cathy’s Clown” lilt to a brighter beat. The rasp in Lennon’s voice on the repeated “come on”s is far from innocent—he wants this woman to do more than just hold his hand. As they hit the second “please,” Paul and John leap away from the pleasantry of the first, soaring up to convey a real adolescent sexual frustration. Even the sound of the band has more rough edges than the thunking bass of “Love Me Do.” Where the first single is genuinely coy, the second makes a “polite” demand on the female, and Lennon deliberately tries to stir up a reaction.

<...>

Although John and Paul can be worlds apart (as this album [“Please Please Me”] demonstrates), when they harmonize the common brilliance they achieve is breathtaking. The two share a space of musical effervescence that only they know how to reach for, and they hit it with uncommon grace.

<...>

The first and last songs on the album, “I Saw Her Standing There” and “Twist and Shout,” are its bookends: both revolve around the idea of falling in love on the dance floor. But where Paul gets the dance floor jumping, Lennon makes the earth move. It’s as raunchy as anything the Beatles ever recorded, and it stands up beautifully to records with raunchier reputations (like the Stones’ “Satisfaction”). Where the opening tune suggests an adolescent sexuality, “Twist and Shout” conveys a loss of innocence; where Paul’s singing is charged but charming, Lennon’s delivery is nothing short of lustful.

<...>

Throughout rock, and throughout the history of music—from Bach’s French Suites to Ravel’s La Valse—the image of the dance in music has been linked to the act of sex.

<...>

After two verses [“Twist and Shout”], the singers—John with Paul and George in support— back off to play their guitars for a verse, as if resting for the final round. When the voices come back in, the personalities we’ve heard throughout the record stack up one by one for the rave-up, building the chord with mounting excitement. At the top of the ladder, they spill over the edge with hysterical screams, the musical dam breaks, and before we know it they’re into the last verse. It’s the musical equivalent of an orgasm, and it counts among the most exciting moments in all their music.

<...>

It’s not that they’re telling teenagers to dance or have sex: they’re simply enjoying life so much that they can’t contain themselves—they want the beat to seduce the whole world into having fun.

(Tell Me Why by Tim Riley, 1998/2002)

this is always a bodyslam whenever you hear it 🤯

but aside from that I just love long haired lady, most days at random times I find myself doing linda NYC voice DO YOU LOVE ME LIKE YOU KNOW YOU OUGHTA DOOOO .... OR IS THIS THE ONLY THING YOU WANT ME FORRRRR

When you’re WRONG love is long???!?!!?

I’ve only ever heard “gone” before (which Linda does sing at least once). I’m going to have to stew on this.

The Virgin and the Eagle.

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Review of an early Hilary Mantel

Goodreads review of 'Eight Months on Ghazzah Street', an early novel by Hilary Mantel:

A terrific sense of menace pervades this story from the beginning, as cartographer Frances struggles to navigate her new home in Jeddah, where her husband has landed a lucrative construction job.

It's the mid-1980s, and Saudi Arabia is riding high on the back of oil wealth, marble and glass towers rising out of empty lots, a modern-looking yet feudal economy carried on the backs of exploited immigrant workers. Cloistered in a luxurious apartment, Frances is frustrated by her Muslim women neighbour's refusal to accept Frances' assertions that life is better for women in the West. It's cautionary tale in how a superior attitude will only drive others further into their own convictions.

Frances recognises her essential prejudice against Saudis and Muslims in general, but the crushing imprisonment and police state-like surveillance of the society she's living in break what little will she has to separate her legitimate protests from bigotry. The novel presents expat life satirically, showing the other English people living in Saudi as essentially venal and bigoted, staying the country just long enough to save up for a 'city flat' in London. Expat life hasn't changed much in 30 years, it seems. Corrupt, arrogrant Saudi politicians and minor royals are equally skewered. The novel's main flaw is the lack of resolution in the central mystery, a story that is built up, clue by clue, through the whole story. Perhaps the details are unimportant and that aspect of the plot merely functions to illustrate Frances' growing paranoia, but what little details that emerged were interesting enough to warrant further explanation. The powerful sense of dread ended up feeling anticlimactic. Also, Frances herself was somewhat thinly drawn, considering she was the central character - her neighbours and the other expats came much more vividly to life. Some experiments in structure didn't really work for me either.

Overall, worth reading, if only as a warning against falling into the trap of becoming the eternal expat, staying in the hated host country for “just another year”....

reblog w the song lyrics in your head NOW. either stuck in yr head or what yr listening to