Unpublished watercolour by George Calderon, Tahiti 1906
Patrick Miles in his summer house, 11 December 2016
K.N. Das Gupta and Margaret Mitchell in an Indian Dramatic Society production of The Maharani of Arakan, 1913?
Figure from Gauguin’s 1899 painting ‘Tahitian Women with Mango Blossoms’ (left); George Calderon’s pencil sketch ‘Manu’ (right)
Frontis piece by Frank Calderon
Christmas 1901 Cartoon by George Calderon
The entrance to Fort Brockhurst (picture from Britain’s Past)
Book sent to George Calderon in Russia by his mother, Christmas 1895.
Monarch Butterfly Madeira
Sir Richard Vincent Sutton c. 1913
George Calderon c.1901
Colonel Sir Walter Coote Hedley c. 1920
Captain of the 11
Jean Ryckaert, May 1916.
George and Kittie Calderon 1905
A happy memory of Trinity College: undergraduates breakfast together in Downy V. Green, p. 77.
Michel and Vera Fokine in “Scheherazade”, 1914 (The Music And Theatre Library of Sweden, creative commons)
Basic form of the Calderon coat of arms
George Calderon, 1912Recent Comments
- John Pym on Two anniversaries We are all, followers and occasional contributors, beholden to you, Patrick, for reminding us for ten years that the past is worth remembering and for keeping alive the... (August 17, 2024 at 1:06 pm)
- Patrick Miles on A second Family Bible Very many thanks for fleshing that point out -- and so entertainingly! (I love your reference to creative writing courses, which are a phobia of mine.) Although several... (August 2, 2024 at 11:03 am)
- Laurence Brockliss on A second Family Bible When I say that the British Republic of Letters was dead by 1880, I don't mean to imply that thereafter there were no men and women outside universities, institutes and... (August 2, 2024 at 9:19 am)
- Patrick Miles on A second Family Bible Thank you for devoting valuable time to writing this fascinating Comment. If I may say so, it is awe-inspiring to see the author of a monumental work standing back from that... (July 31, 2024 at 5:32 pm)
- Laurence Brockliss on A second Family Bible Male Professionals in Nineteenth Century Britain was a new departure for me. For most of my adult life I have worked on seventeenth and eighteenth century France. It is also... (July 24, 2024 at 11:31 am)
Tag Archives: Cambridge Tales
Very Old Cambridge Tales 3: ‘Reflected images’
It was the Saturday of the fourth week of the Michaelmas Term. Half Term. As he stepped purposefully from the steakhouse on Trinity Street, where he had feasted on the 10/6d gammon menu, Roger Johns suddenly realised that he had … Continue reading
Posted in Personal commentary
Tagged Boots, Cambridge Market Square, Cambridge Tales, Cambridge Union Society, Cambridge University, Che Guevara, clothes, glasses, hats, History Today, Leon Trotsky, Louis Philippe, mirrors, opticians, Oxfam, pith helmets, Raffles, reflected images, reflections, Rose Crescent, self images, semiotics, Sherlock Holmes, shop windows, spectacles, students, Trinity Street, undergraduates, W.H. Smith, young men, young women
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Cambridge Tales 7: ‘The Folding Party’
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Tagged Bedroom, Blue Pagoda, Cambridge, Cambridge Tales, Carcanet, Chris Hardie, Friedrich Hölderlin, G.W.F. Hegel, Gitanes, haiku, Helios, John Milton, Julian Slawianski, Karl Marx, Leonard Cohen, parties, Pink Floyd, poetry, poetry magazines, River Cam, students, suicide, Tintagel, undergraduates
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Cambridge Tales 6: ‘The Tower’
A small brown-man had a narrow bedroom, a spacious living-room, and a gyp-room (more like a galley) at the top of a Gothic quadrangle. The living-room contained a fluted white mantelpiece with a gas-fire, a moth-eaten charcoal grey sofa against … Continue reading
Posted in Personal commentary
Tagged bowler hats, brown-man, Cambridge colleges, Cambridge Tales, Franz Kafka, paranoia, persecution mania, towers, writer's block, writers
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Cambridge Tales 5: ‘East of the Rhine’ (Concluded)
One afternoon in the last week of November, there was a soft knock on the door of my room. Before me stood an elegantly thin woman in her late twenties, wearing an extremely expensive-looking bleu nuit cashmere coat with a … Continue reading
Posted in Heroism and Adventure, Personal commentary
Tagged alcoholism, atrocities, Azita, Bosnia, Cambridge Tales, cemeteries, defiance, Eric Smith, genocide, Iran, massacres, militarism, NATO, Nazis, Persia, Rhine, Serbia, Srebrenica, Territorial Army, The British Army, ties, Vitez, war crimes, war graves, Winston Churchill, World War 2, Yugoslavia
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Very Old Cambridge Tales: 2
SNAPSHOTS OF CAMBRIDGE ‘Ron Shakespeare’, a casual at the Arts, was so plastered the other evening that he actually got caught on stage at the end of a scene-change. The Stage Manager did his nut and threatened this time to … Continue reading
Posted in Personal commentary
Tagged anecdotes, Arts Theatre, Bird Sanctuary, butterflies, Cambridge, Cambridge colleges, Cambridge Tales, Cambridge University Library, dry-stone walls, fishing tackle, Gallyon's, gardeners, General Election, hummingbirds, Junior Bursar, Labour Party, liberalism, moral philosophy, Nigeria, Ron Shakespeare, snapshots, Trinity College, United States of America, William Gerhardie
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Very Old Cambridge Tales: 1
A LETTER TO THE EDITOR OF GRANTA POEM: Horror O The Studio, Fowlmere. 4.11.67 … Continue reading
Cambridge Tales 4: ‘Sleep and Death’
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Tagged 'Sleep and Death', À la recherche du temps perdu, Aligoté, Apollo, Cambridge Tales, cats, Chablis, college life, Dante, death, Don Quixote, Frances Cornford, J.S. Bach, Marcel Proust, May Week, Meursault, paradise, Pimms, Plato, Professor of French, Professor of Italian, Professor of Spanish, professors, Rupert Brooke, Sancho Panza, wine
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Cambridge Tales 2: ‘His Letter’
He had had the honour of presiding at dessert, where he always drank the accepted minimum. He had entertained some of the guests with his account of the council estate on which he had grown up, and his bedder’s perennial … Continue reading
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Tagged 'His Letter', Alan Cook, Cambridge Tales, college life, college servants, guest hours, sex, short story, students, The Fellowship, The Master, undergraduates
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Cambridge Tales 1: ‘Ghoune’
It was a dark, diluvial, owl-infested night. Despite the glass of Aquavit that he had downed at two in the morning after filling out, checking and re-checking his mark sheets, he tossed and turned in his bed. There was nothing … Continue reading
Cambridge Tales 8: ‘Black Tie’
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