A microbrewery for book-lovers

Jake Thackray

I spent some time with friend of the family Eddie Farrell in Berlin and, like two Englishman are prone to do in Berlin, we spent too much time talking about the Wars. But it reminded us of this documentary about Jake Thackray, which ended on this wonderful understated song. It’s peculiar, but I realise now that all through my life I’ve had a kind of clock in my imagination measuring my age against possible conscription. When I heard about the Gulf War I thought, oh damn, I’ll be called up, and I remember my best mate Gav thought the same, and I thought we’d die together and they’d bury us with our arms linked like they used to. And when I crippled my arch I thought at least they’s have to think twice about putting me in jungle footwear. And when I married that put me further away, and at some point recently I felt relief that I was now too old. I think it was one of the most useful impressions my Dad {similar in age and appearance to Jake} left on me; that there was this absurd circumstance beyond our control where they would line up thousands of young men on two sides, and that we would advance on each other and somehow everything would disappear.


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