A children's story with sad roots; women fighting for their rights; a man struggling to survive on a lifeless planet

The thing I really liked about the Mary Poppins books is that there was absolutely nothing soft of candy-flossy about her. She was stern. Smiling didn’t come naturally, if it came at all. She was briskly efficient and businesslike and no one messed with her, or at least, not twice.

So it was a bit of a surprise to see Julie Andrews in the film regularly sporting her trademark endearing smile, as though the hills were alive with the sound of music. Not Mary Poppins at all. Dick van Dyke likewise, apart from the unspeakable parody of a cockney accent, also had an unbearable niceness about him that had little to do with the P L Travers’s writing. And yet, somehow, in common with millions of others, I found the film as enjoyable as the books – if in a completely different way.

The beauty of Saving Mr Banks is that it shows how the bridge between those two creations was made. It’s a tear jerker and if that isn’t your cup of tears, then it’s probably worth keeping away from the film. Within its genre, however, it has to be one of the best.

Saving Mr Banks
Tom Hanks genial as Walt Disney, Emma Thompson less so as P L Travers

What the film explores is the gulf between the fantasy world of fiction and the real story that may well have inspired it. Travers had grave misgivings about allowing Walt Disney to make a film of her books, fearing precisely what happened – far too sweet an interpretation, a musical and, worst of all, cartoons. The film shows Disney, well portrayed by Tom Hanks, trying to convince Travers, superbly played by Emma Thompson as an adult and by Annie Rose Buckley as a child. Eventually, she gave way, but not before a great deal surfaced, about an adulated father wrecked by his own failings. It turns out that Mary Poppins really wasn’t there to help the children, but to save Mr Banks, the father. And we find out why.

Most films about the suffragettes focus on the wealthy ones who would suffer terribly while imprisoned, and force fed, but nonetheless returned to homes not utterly destroyed by their absence, because nursery maids had looked after the children and the family was able to eat without their mother’s wages. That makes Suffragette refreshing, because it focuses on a working class woman, powerfully portrayed by Carey Mulligan, for whom going to jail for her principles means far more than a few weeks suffering – it means jeopardising her family life and her ability to earn a living.

The film also shows one of the tougher problems of the British suffrage movement, its use of terror tactics. Admittedly, they used rather special forms of terrorism, designed to avoid injury to people, let alone loss of life, but bombs are bombs. It’s courageous of the film to confront the use of such weapons, by characters presented as sympathetic.

What it ducks, on the other hand, is the question of whether those tactics, and indeed the wing of the suffrage movement represented by such luminaries as Emmeline Pankhurst, actually did much to advance the cause. It also fails to answer a question that it raises itself by making the protagonist working class: had the movement achieved equal voting rights for women as for men, Carey Mulligan’s character would still not have had the vote – 40% of men were deprived of the suffrage at that time by a property qualification, which she would certainly have failed too. 

I was left wondering whether Pankhurst (played my Meryl Streep), or indeed the pharmacist (Helena Bonham Carter) who befriends Mulligan and makes the bombs, would have settled for votes for themselves or would have fought to extend them to all adults.

Helena Bonham Carter, Carey Mulligan and Meryl Streep in Suffragette
The one in the middle would have been no better off with rights equal to men

Such small gripes apart, the film’s well performed and gripping.

Finally, The Martian is a refreshing new take on stories which have titles of that kind. The Martian is not a little green space creature, a native of Mars. Instead he’s a human being, Mark Watney, excellently played by Matt Damon, left behind in error by his crew mates, who believe he has died in the storm that forced their evacuation of the red planet.

The strongest feature of the film is its pursuit of realism. Watney works out how long he has to survive on Mars – nearly four years – with supplies that were designed to support a month long mission. Even though they were intended for a crew of six, rather than a single individual, it’s clear they won’t keep him going anything like long enough. So he has to find a way of growing food in the arid environment of Mars.

That’s a daunting challenge. So he doesn’t take it on. Instead he breaks it down into component tasks, and tackles each of them in turn. What does he have that could be made to grow? How can he turn sterile Mars soil into something capable of supporting plant life? How can he produce the water needed?

A step at a time, he finds solutions for problems which taken as a whole, seem insurmountable.

That spirit of realism and the philosophy of taking on a job at a time, as necessity requires, informs almost the whole film. It’s only at the very end that we get a moment of more traditional science fiction, where in the pursuit of drama, the makers have Watney do something completely brainless in a heroic gesture, a gamble on a single throw of the dice. Otherwise, the film only demands our acceptance of one or two minor inconsistencies and a single major piece of suspension of disbelief: we know that, in the present state of science at least, it’s impossible to get human beings to Mars, since they would be exposed to so much radiation that the journey itself would kill them.

Tom Hanks in The Martian
The loneliness of the long-distance gardener

Those seem small concessions to demand of an audience, to tell a great story. And the story’s a good one, well told. With plenty of tension. And a lot of humour.

Countdown to War, Day 36. 2 August: as Germany goes to war against Russia, does God require Britain to fight?

One hundred years ago today, on Sunday 2 August 1914, the Methodist Minister wore a bleak smile when he dropped in on Martin to give him his Observer. The paper confirmed the worst fears of the previous few days.

Germany has declared war with Russia, and France and Germany have both ordered a mobilisation.

Thus has vanished the last hope of European peace, for although, curiously enough, a state of war does not yet exist between Germany and France, or Russia and Austria, it must only be a question of some hours before these Powers take sides in the quarrel.

Russian trenches

The Observer didn’t share the Manchester Guardian’s commitment to neutrality. Nor did it have any ambiguity about which side to choose: the villain was Germany. 

Let us not blind ourselves for a moment by illusions. Our neutrality is impossible. It would be an act of desertion which would prevent any country from ever trusting us as an ally or a friend again... He who is no friend will have no friend. The original cause of the smaller war is nothing. That squalid and hateful pretext has been used with open eyes to force a vaster issue. The Great War is fought by the Central Powers for one object. It is fought for the mastery of Europe under conditions which, if we stood aside, would assure for Germany – by direct and indirect means – the eventual and perhaps the speedy mastery of the Low Countries and the narrow seas.

“We’re expected to fight for the Low Countries?”

“Look at the map, Martin. Belgium’s a stone throw away. That’s why its neutrality matters. We can’t have Germany encamped there.”

But Martin was irritated with the paper. In its previous issue, the Observer had argued that “the moral point to remember is that in this business Austria Hungary is fundamentally justified and Servia is fundamentally wrong.” Seven days on, it was convinced Britain should fight on the Serbian side of the dispute.

It was down to the government now. What would it choose? Again unlike the Guardian, the Observer wasn’t keen on the Liberals.

What will our statesmen do? Our leaders at the moment are the chief members of a Radical Government which, as a whole, is not the best fitted by traditional or political circumstance to uphold the vital interests of Britain with sound judgement and unwavering resolution at this hour.

If the paper felt that the Tories were better suited to take Britain into war, that only strengthened Martin’s inclination to stay well clear of it.

The US was staying out. As was Italy, and it was an ally of Germany’s and Austria-Hungary’s: “her obligations under the Triple Alliance only applying to a defensive war, Italy considers herself to be released from her engagement, the war being waged by Austria, supported by Germany, being essentially an offensive war.”

“We’re like the US,” Martin exclaimed, “without a treaty to oblige us to fight. Why would we?”

“Because it means defending our friends and justice. That is an obligation, Martin, whatever alliances or treaties may say.”

“So... thou shalt not kill means nothing?”

“It means a lot. But it has consequences. ‘Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for in His image did God make man’. By the hand of man, Martin. For shedding the blood of other men. Sometimes the Lord requires that we shed the blood of our fellows.”

“But... what about beating your swords into ploughshares... about blessed are the peacemakers?”

“All that’s true, Martin, in the right time and place. But the Lord also said ‘Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.’ The gospel isn’t a work of milk and honey, it’s a work of fire and and iron too.”

“And you think it’s a time for fire and iron now, then?”

“I fear it may be. And don’t forget the Lord’s promise: ‘...he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it’.”

Martin looked at him steadily and saw in the Minister’s eyes a light of belief he wasn’t sure he shared. And he saw a man of – what? – fifty or more. He wasn’t likely to be called on to lose his life in this cause.

German troops in Łowicz, in then-Russian Poland
occupied soon after the outbreak of war

After the Minister had gone, Martin sighed and read on. Serbia was having a torrid time.

...the Austrians continued yesterday heavy artillery firing in the neighbourhood of Belgrade, but have not yet succeeded in crossing the Danube or Sava. Fierce fighting is stated to have occurred between Foca and Selitza, in which the Fourth Servian division and two Austrian divisions were involved...

Other longstanding problems hadn’t gone away, though it looked as though the disaster of a general European war might put them in the shade. The Observer thought that there could be some reduction in tension in Ireland, especially thanks to the attitude of the Unionists – and there were Unionists on both sides of the Irish Sea, the Opposition Conservatives (the Tories) being their British arm.

The Unionist leaders responded with that undeviating patriotism which the present Opposition has invariably shown in every issue of foreign policy...

Unionists had dropped the demand for an immediate election.

Upon the other hand, the question of presenting the Home Rule bill for the King’s signature is deferred...

Great Britain well knows the Ulster Volunteers, in face of foreign danger, to be an Army in reserve for the Union Jack. If the Nationalist Volunteers show anything like the same devotion... to the common cause of the United Kingdom, they will... open up for Ulster, for the rest of Ireland and for their ultimate reunion, hopes which even a week ago seemed unthinkable.

Would the Irish nationalists put aside their demands to make common cause with the mother country at its time of danger? He couldn’t really see it. Especially with Home Rule back off the table. Another news item suggested there would be no let up in their desire for separation from that mother:

The Irish National Volunteers, says a message from Limerick, claim to have succeed in landing 150 rifles at Foynes from an American yacht on the River Shannon, without the intervention of the authorities.

He noticed that the suffragettes, or at least those in Mrs Pankhurst’s group, were showing no inclination to ease their pressure on the authorities. Ironically, they were operating in Ireland too, and with the ferocity typical of that island’s quarrels.

The Women’s Social and Political Union contradicts the statement that instructions have been given for the cessation of Suffragette militancy during the crisis.

Early yesterday morning a charge of dynamite was exploded under the chancel window of the old cathedral at Lisburn, damaging a valuable window and masonry.

Meanwhile, just as international relations were collapsing in general, in London the Transport authorities were still doing their best to improve them.

The sixteen interpreters appointed by the London General Omnibus Company to attend at railway termini connecting with the Continent and other busy traffic centres, commenced their duties yesterday, and their services were much appreciated by foreigners arriving as strangers to London.

Across the Continent, divisions were mobilising against each other. But in London, the bus company had deployed sixteen people to make life easier for tourists. Now that was worth a smile on a sad, tense Sunday evening.

Countdown to War, Day 22. 19 July: Germany puts weapons before democracy, Huerta gets out of Mexico, Pankhurst gets out of gaol, US money gets into Ireland

One hundred years ago today, on Sunday 19 July 1914, Martin the railwayman from Manchester might have collected the Observer from his Methodist Minister, and read about an exercise in Dulwich, South London, the previous day. Though it sounded gruesome, it had apparently been a good-humoured event.

Dulwich Village was under fire yesterday afternoon. According to the programme of the fourth annual inspection of the Camberwell Red Cross Nurses, England had been invaded but it cannot be said that the inhabitants of the district treated the situation with much gravity, for they turned out in their best white frocks and sporting suits to gloat over the “wounded”. ...

The injured, who wore their ills with astonishing optimism, were cared for by beaming nurses in smart blue uniforms and many of the spectators would have willingly been injured for the sake of the smiles given...

Amusing, he thought. Though he suspected that with real injuries, it might have taken more than a smile to lighten the mood.

Oh, that Huerta chap in Mexico was in trouble again. In fact he wasn’t even in Mexico any more.

General Huerta has decided to depart on board the German cruiser Dresden... It is understood that Jamaica is the destination... In the course of an interview General Huerta said: “When I assumed the presidency I said publicly that I would restore peace, come what might. I have paid. It has cost me the Presidency. To restore peace has been my whole and sole ambition.”

If Huerta’s only ambition had been peace and he’d been driven out by a military uprising, Martin couldn’t help feeling he’d fallen somewhat short of his aspirations.

Then there were some snippets that caught his eye, such as one under the headline: “American Money for Volunteers”.

The United Irish League has forwarded to Mr. Redmond £2,000 of the promised £20,000 to be used for the Nationalist cause.

Money from the US for John Redmond, leader of the Irish Party in Parliament? What business was it of Americans to meddle in the affairs of the United Kingdom?

An article headlined “Mrs. Pankhurst again released” reported laconically that the great Suffragette leader was back out of prison, if only for twelve days. But there was no talk of her speaking at any further meeting, as had been the plan before her previous arrest. 

French armoured cruiser Ernest Renan

The article “Brothers in Arms” was about one of the leading figures in the Royal Navy, Sir John Jellicoe, who wrote to a Frenchman and fellow vice-Admiral:

My dear de Marolles, – Last night nearly 70 officers, who took part in Chinese operations in 1900, dined together under the presidency of Sir Edward Seymour. I have been asked to write to you and say that they have not forgotten our French comrades, and that they drank their health and that of their brave leader, yourself. It is with great pleasure that I perform this duty. 

Comrades in arms, then. Some people rated the Frogs. Though Martin still wondered whether the safer money wouldn’t be on the Germans. But the Germans: they seemed terribly earnest about keeping their people down and their arms plentiful.

The Liberal papers are drawing attention to another telegram from the Crown Prince expressing approval of a political pamphlet in which the present Chancellor and his policy are handled in a not very flattering manner.

The recipient of the telegram is Professor Bueholz, of Posen, who, in his pamphlet, strongly combats the modern tendencies towards the democratisation of the German Government and affirms the necessity of further armaments.

Crown Prince Wilhelm with German troops
No more a bundle of laughs than last time we saw him

Depressing. Though not as depressing as finding out that Surrey had racked up an impressive 402 against Lancashire at the Oval the previous day. 

That wasn’t a match Martin’s county was likely to win.

Countdown to War, Day 17. 14 July 1914: "No Surrender", Mrs Pankhurst struggles on, and gentility is maintained at Birkdale and Southport. Viciously

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 14 July 1914, Martin the young railwayman and his friends might have read some historic words in the Manchester Guardian. Spoken by Sir Edward Carson, the leader of Unionism in Ireland, they were deliverd to a meeting in Drumberg as part of the 12th of July Battle of the Boyne celebrations. Faced with all those cheering people calling on him for leadership, he had asked himself:

What is the one lesson I ought to learn from all that I have seen to-day? And I think I can sum it up in the two old words you every one wish to say to me, “No surrender.” (Great cheers).

“No surrender”. A call for implacable conflict and words he felt might well echo down the decades.

While the Protestants were cheering Carson, at Castlebellingham in County Louth, 4000 Irish Volunteers were parading in military formation, as a photograph published by the paper attested. And so the descent towards civil war continued...

Things weren’t getting sorted out in the Levant either. The paper published another extract from a letter by an “Englishman in the Aegean Islands”:

It is, I confess, difficult for me to see how, if, as it seems, the expulsion of the Christian inhabitants of the coasts opposite Lesbos and Chios, was, so to speak, a simple move in the game, a simple retort to Greece, it might not have been carried out openly and diplomatically without the horrors that attended it. 

“More horrors,” said Martin. 

“With religion to fuel them,” said the Cynic, “to make sure they really cut deep. The Irish don’t know what delights they’re preparing for themselves.”

Meanwhile, Mrs Pankhurst, released from prison for four days, was going to be returned to gaol before she could address a planned suffragette meeting. Mrs Mansel had told a meeting of the Women’s Social and Political Union:

Mrs. Pankhurst was too ill to be able to go to the meeting except on an ambulance with her nurses and doctors. And what did the Home Secretary propose to do? Did he propose to tear her away from her nurses and doctors? ... Mrs. Pankhurst was going to the meeting on Thursday evening, and nothing could stop her. She was going to be there, and they were going to see that she was there. (Cheers)

It was impressive just how far people were prepared to go to attain their goals. Whatever it cost, even their own or others’ lives or liberty. Would he go so far for any of those causes? Ireland? Did it matter whether it stayed or went? Turkey and Greece? He didn’t understand their conflict, but did anyone else? The vote? Well that was worth a sacrifice, he agreed. But would he go through what Mrs Pankhurst had?

Croquet: genteel. And vicious

In a world where so much seemed to be going wrong, there was at least one area in which a sense of proper order and decorum was being maintained.

The eighth annual croquet tournament promoted by the Birkdale and Southport Croquet Club began yesterday, and will continue for the rest of the week. In spite of the fact that there are several other meetings in various parts of the country in progress at the present time the entry was much more numerous than usual, and the standard of the competing players was much higher.

“See?” said the older tracklayer, “what are you complaining about? Things can’t be going all wrong in a world which still has that much gentility in it.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the Cynic. “Bloody vicious game. Good preparation for war, if you ask me.”

Countdown to War, Day 11. 8 July: Votes for Women and, as ever, trouble in Ireland

One hundred years ago today, on Wednesday 8 July 1914, Martin the young Mancunian whose fortunes we have been following might have been shocked by a letter to the Manchester Guardian denouncing a terrible practice being used against suffragette protesters:

Forcible feeding is one thing as applied to passive invalids and lunatics, quite another as applied to a sane and resisting prisoner. There is abundant evidence that in the latter case it is acutely painful, frequently dangerous and invariably degrading.

He was a little surprised that the correspondents didn’t seem to feel the mentally unwell didn’t suffer pain like other people, but then perhaps lunatics were already too “degraded” to notice.

He wasn’t quite sure about votes for women. It seemed slightly odd to him that someone in a skirt should vote, especially since he couldn’t vote either, being neither a property owner nor a tenant paying sufficient rent. But he had friends in the Labour Party who kept telling him that being denied the right himself meant he ought to make common cause with the women, so that he and they could win it together. Some of those friends were women, and they were certainly clever enough to argue his hind leg off, so maybe there was something in what they were saying.

Certainly, there was plenty of talk about women’s suffrage. There’d been a debate run by the Church League for Women’s Suffrage, in which the presiding officer, Canon Green declared that “he wished Churchmen to be outspoken.”

Emmeline Pankhurst whips up a crowd in Trafalgar Square

There was also a piece about Emmeline Pethwick Lawrence who claimed she’d been driven out of the Women’s Social and Political Union by its leader, Emmeline Pankhurst, and was now working in the United Suffragists’ Society. 

He smiled at that word, “United”. Funny how whenever a movement split, at least one splinter would call itself “united”.

Trouble about votes for women was that it just one of the hardy perennials. The other was, of course, Ireland. Things were turning nastier by the day between Protestants and Catholics in Ulster. Quoting the Times, the Guardian told him that “the tension of the situation has become well-nigh unbearable.” 

Apparently, it was believed that nationalists had stockpiles of weapons and were planning to fling the fact in the faces of Unionists. Ugly. And worse still, this was happening at a time when Europe, despite its odd pockets of trouble, was enjoying unprecedented peace. It was a pity that right here, on Britain’s doorstep, civil war seemed to be brewing.

Just as unwelcome was the article headlined “Lancashire lose to Surrey.” Yes, well, he’d been expecting that. He’d written off the match when he’d read about Surrey’s massive first innings total. He didn’t bother to read the report.

At least all that unpleasant business about the shooting of the Austrian Grand Duke seemed once more to have died down. Certainly, he noticed nothing about it in the paper. A sad business, but for a while it had looked as though it might lead to something far more serious still. Perhaps that had been avoided. He wondered whether it was all down to clever diplomacy, behind the scenes. Had the talented diplomatists that Europe, and not least Britain, possessed, made sure that a tragedy had not turned into a catastrophe?