Today the clocks went back, so I dutifully went around the house putting them all right. I have one electronic clock which is supposed to receive its instructions from a transmitter at Rugby, but for some reason it never seems to know what the correct time is. So much for modern technology. Sometimes the old-fashioned method of turning the hands yourself is considerably more reliable.This business of time reminds me that inspiration cannot be hurried. It arrives and develops at its own pace, rather like a baby in the womb. We know that the process takes approximately nine months, and no amount of impatience will persuade nature to speed things up. Ideas are much the same. They need time to develop, and sometimes the best thing we can do is allow them to find their own shape.
This morning I came to a decision about my Somer Valley Diary project. I am going to do it primarily for my own enjoyment. That may sound rather selfish, but experience has taught me something about expectations.
I thoroughly enjoyed my previous community projects in Priddy and Chard, but I did not receive quite the response I had hoped for, either in constructive criticism or in active participation. I am not interested in assigning blame, whether to myself or to anyone else. That is simply how things turned out. If you embark on a project expecting a particular response from others, you are rather placing your happiness in their hands, which is not always a wise thing to do.
This time I have some grounds for optimism. For one thing, I am working on my home territory. I know Midsomer Norton and the surrounding area, and I am not arriving as an outsider with a bright idea about how everyone else should conduct their affairs. For another, I have learned a good deal from my previous ventures about how to undertake these projects economically and efficiently. I want the work to be a pleasure rather than a burden, even if it remains, in the traditional expression, a labour of love.
I have also decided to reduce the geographical area considerably. Instead of attempting to cover the whole of the Somer Valley at once, I shall concentrate initially on just three communities: Paulton, Midsomer Norton and Radstock. That should provide more than enough material to keep me occupied. If the response is encouraging, I can gradually extend the project to embrace the wider area originally envisaged. There is no particular virtue in trying to swallow the whole cake in one mouthful.
The project will have two complementary parts. The first will be a website, with a prominently featured calendar of events so that local people can discover what is happening without having to hunt through numerous websites, Facebook pages and noticeboards. I would also like to include articles describing events that have taken place, particularly those which deserve wider recognition. I can write these myself, but organisers and members of the public will also be welcome to contribute their own experiences. After all, community life is not something that should be reported by just one person.
The second part will be a printed book, following the general pattern of my previous publications but with a more practical emphasis. Each participating organisation will have its own page, explaining what it does, whom it welcomes and how people can become involved. The intention is not merely to produce a directory of names and addresses, but to encourage people to take that first step towards joining something.
The book will be available in hard copy, but I also intend to produce an accompanying eBook. This has the considerable advantage that corrections and updates can be incorporated without having to produce an entirely new printed edition every time somebody changes their telephone number, meeting place or opening hours.
The more I think about it, the more I like the combination. The website will provide the constantly changing information, while the book will offer a more permanent introduction to the people and organisations that make our communities tick.
Above all, I want to enjoy the process. I shall make telephone calls, meet interesting people, listen to their stories and hopefully help a few more people discover opportunities on their own doorstep. Whether the project attracts a great deal of attention or only a modest amount is something I cannot control.
What I can control is the enthusiasm, care and imagination I put into it.
And if I enjoy myself in the process, that will be a perfectly respectable result in its own right.
There is another aspect of my Somer Valley Diary project which I think could prove particularly useful. The Midsomer Norton and Radstock Journal has been around for decades and was once based in Midsomer Norton itself. It has since moved some distance away, and I feel that the amount of genuinely local news it carries is not what it used to be. This leaves something of a gap which the Somer Valley Diary website might help to fill.
I envisage the website becoming a lively exchange of local news, views and experiences, rather than simply a calendar telling people what is happening next Tuesday. Suppose, for example, that 20 people attended a meeting and heard a fascinating speaker talking about the cultivation of cacti. Why shouldn’t everyone else hear about it? There may be dozens of people in the area who would have enjoyed the talk but knew nothing about it. A short report might encourage them to attend the next meeting.
The beauty of the arrangement is that organisers would not have to go to the trouble of producing newsletters or maintaining elaborate publicity systems. They could simply send me a few paragraphs, much as they would write an ordinary email, telling me what happened, who attended and what made the occasion worthwhile. I could then turn this into a short item for the website, perhaps under the heading of Local Gossip.
And why not? I have absolutely nothing against gossip, provided it is friendly, accurate and not malicious. Indeed, how else are we supposed to find out what is going on in our communities? Much of the most interesting information travels by word of mouth, and there is no reason why a local website should not perform much the same function on a wider scale.
This set me thinking about the word gossip itself, and I was surprised to discover that it originally had a much more respectable meaning than it does today. Its history stretches back over a thousand years and provides a fascinating example of how a word can gradually change its character.
In Anglo-Saxon England, the word was godsibb, formed from God and sibb, meaning kinship or relationship. It referred to a godparent, someone who entered into a spiritual relationship with a child and its family through baptism. The word sibb is also related to our modern word sibling. At this stage, gossip had nothing to do with idle chatter. It was a term associated with religious responsibility, trust and family relationships.
During the Middle Ages, the meaning began to broaden. A gossip was no longer necessarily a godparent but could also be a close friend or familiar companion. The word became particularly associated with women who gathered to support one another during childbirth. These were occasions when female relatives, friends and neighbours came together to offer practical assistance, reassurance and companionship. Conversation was naturally part of the proceedings, but the word still referred primarily to the people involved rather than to what they were saying.
By the 16th and 17th centuries, another change was taking place. The word increasingly described familiar companions who enjoyed talking together, and it could also refer to their conversation. What had originally been a religious relationship had developed into a social one. The emphasis was shifting from the bond between people to the activity of talking.
During the 18th century, the meaning became increasingly negative. Gossip was now commonly associated with idle conversation, rumours and discussion of other people’s private affairs. By the 19th century, the modern meaning was firmly established, although the older sense of a familiar companion had not entirely disappeared. It is interesting that this change also reflected attitudes towards women’s conversations, which were often dismissed as trivial or malicious.
So we have a remarkable progression: from godparent, to trusted companion, to conversational companion, to idle talker, and finally to the spreading of rumours. The word travelled from the church to the home, from the home to the social gathering, and from friendly conversation to something rather less innocent.
What particularly amuses me is the almost complete reversal of meaning. Originally, a gossip was someone you trusted sufficiently to take responsibility for your child’s spiritual welfare. Nowadays, a gossip is often someone you wouldn’t trust with the smallest secret.
Perhaps it is time to reclaim the word and restore a little of its original friendliness. After all, a community is not simply a collection of organisations and events. It is a living network of people talking to one another, sharing experiences and passing on useful information.
If Somer Valley Diary can encourage that sort of gossip, I shall be delighted. Long may it continue.
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