Desert Island Discs

Desert Island Discs, which is on Radio 4 these days, is another throw back to my childhood, like Mrs Dale’s Diary and Sing Something Simple when we listened to the huge, polished wood wireless in our living room. I expect it would have been broadcast on the Light Programme or the Home Service in the 1950s. 

Its first home was the BBC Forces Programme from 1942-1944. The unchanged opening theme is “By the Sleepy Lagoon” by Eric Coates, which makes me imagine bright, azure sky, warm beaches, hammocks fastened to palm trees and gentle, clear water stroking the sand. It might be appealing to some, but this is not my Desert Island.

My chosen island, St Kilda, fails to meet the criteria of ‘desert island’, so I’m breaking the rules here. Oops. I haven’t had the privilege of visiting and probably never will. I’ve been to the western edges of the Outer Hebrides from where St Kilda is still too far away and difficult to reach. 

St. Kilda, Outer Hebrides

I’ll keep her in my dreams and pretend that I’m cosy in a little cottage with a peat fire, or whatever the departed inhabitants used. A blizzard has been blasting the islands for days, even weeks, and there is no visible definition of sky to land. I love the sound of snow hitting the windows and occasional howling wind. It is calm and restful. I don’t miss the irritating noise of traffic, especially sirens at all times of day or night.

My music, and eight pieces isn’t enough, would be: ‘Honky Tonk Women’ by the Rolling Stones. I love the beginning where the rhythm is joined by other instruments one at a time until they are all playing together. ‘Music’ by John Miles because I think it’s amazing. ‘Baker Street’ by Gerry Rafferty for his remarkable voice and the saxophone. ‘In My Life’ by the Beatles, the words speak for themselves. Anything from ‘The Peer Gynt Suite’ by Edvard Greig – there’s a surprise. I know I’m not allowed to take it all. While I’ve gone classical, ‘Troika’ by Sergei Prokofiev, a favourite piece, not just at Christmas. ‘Holding Back the Years’ by Simply Red, my first introduction to Mick Hucknall and it always makes me stop to listen properly. ‘Isn’t Life Strange?’ from the Moody Blues, written by John Lodge and needs no explanation.

I’m stuck on choosing luxury items and this is where I’m probably breaking rules again. Food, water, strong tea, my laptop for access to everything else? Such things work perfectly well in fantasy land. I would love this poem in a frame on my wall:

Sonnet XLIII, from the Portuguese

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

                                     Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806-1861

Thanks for reading, Pam x