Years and years and years ago, the Spectator film reviewer of the day took issue with the exclamations of "Good God!" in an adaptation of Sense and Sensibility (the Emma Thompson one, not anything by Andrew Davies). Jane Austen would never have said anything so unladylike, he thought.
The next week there was a very polite letter from Sir John Gielguid, in which he gave a count of the number of times the expression was used in the first hundred pages or so of the novel. It was quite a high number.
Considering I have been sawing up bits of wood making some alcove shelves, there has been remarkably little swearing here. None in fact.
sweary Jane Austen
I remember this going up on the English Department noticeboard at the time:
I've just arrived home after a splendid night out at the RFH, where I bumped into an old friend from music college days, so we sat together and fondly reminisced about playing in one of the works being performed and then enjoyed a few glasses of wine afterwards.
It was a great concert - very imaginative programming - and thoroughly enjoyable. A real shame to see the hall barely a third full for such glorious and powerful music making, but the audience certainly made up in enthusiasm for what they lacked in numbers.
There's a lot of it about.
Meanwhile, today I am wearing a slim-fitting shirt. It is a cruel garment for a middle-aged man who has an irrational dislike of the concept of the gym. Obviously I have a jumper on over the shirt to mitigate the damage.
It's another pleasant valley Sunday here on the Talk.
I'm so serene, I've got a TV in every rooo
Monkees lyrics are an area that my general knowledge doesn't cover, sadly.
This is the first morning in I can't remember how long when checking the BBC News app before getting out of bed actually cheered me up marginally. Great bunch of lads, those American lawyers.