Sunday 14 January 2018

coddiwompling through music, books and life


This week reintroduced me to a new word, or rather a forgotten word, a verb: to coddiwomple, old English slang for travelling purposefully towards an as-yet-unknown destination.

Everyone coddiwomples through the race of life, because no matter how meticulously plans are made at the outset, few actually cross the finishing line where expected. But then life would undoubtedly be too dull if we knew exactly where we’d be tomorrow, or next week, yet alone 50 years hence.

Coddiwompling through reading materials is enlightening too. Pick up a book by one author and, if the text inside proves as alluring as the cover, rather than reading the entire oeuvre of that one author, take a look at what that author reads, which writers she or he has read and perhaps is recommending. The chances are that if we enjoy one author, we’ll also enjoy the writings that author chooses to read. Thus our reading interests bifurcate repeatedly, until we have a reading list which isn’t a linear litany at all, but a gloriously huge literary-family tree, a vast oak spreading higher and wider through constantly changing branches. Acorns and oak trees.

It’s standing me in good stead. In such a way I’ve discovered Robert McFarlane, W. G. Sebald, Nan Shepherd, Edward Thomas and the next couple I’m on the look-out for, Lascelles Abercrombie and Dubose Hayward. These and many more luminescent writers came to me late, but then the best journeys are the long ones which never quite arrive at destinations and instead divert us onto previously untrod fascinating paths.

An added advantage is that as long as we never actually arrive, we’re bound to keep moving and, therefore, we’re more difficult targets for those snipers in our lives to hit. So coddiwomple all you want, and if anyone tries to tell you that you lack focus, or have difficulty setting goals, tell them to fuck off. Being single-minded about meeting an objective will mean not spotting opportunities. Whatever you’re doing, coddiwomple away. All roads lead somewhere and if you’re lucky, you’ll turn off before you get there.