Wise Course
From A Haunted Hotel (1878) by Wilkie Collins:
He decided forthwith on taking the only wise course that was open under the circumstances. In other words, he decided on taking to flight.
To his servant, this character says:
Now then, softly, Thomas! If your shoes creak, I am a lost man.
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Normal
From a photography article in the Guardian:
I discovered they were 29-year-old twins who lived nearby in a tent, in woodland behind a friend’s trailer home. These boys had never learned how to have a “normal” life – how to organise everything, show up to a job, all the basic things.
It’s another reminder of the richness and variety of human experience. Worried about quitting an office job for something more rewarding, or downsizing to a smaller property so that you don’t need so much money? Well these guys live in the woods. And they always did.
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Idlerfest ’25
I’ll be at this, doing 45 minutes on “how to escape the daily grind.” See you there and then? Top hangout opportunity if ever there was one.
Chuck Naked
A raunchy one from Charles Bukowski’s Factotum, a book about his youth spent in unemployment:
I understood it too well now – that great lovers were always men of leisure. I fucked better as a bum than as a puncher of timeclocks.
Thanks to Reader M for sending it in.
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Letter to the Editor: Wish Me Luck
To send a letter to the editor, simply write in. You’ll get a reply and we’ll anonymise any blogged version.
Reader E writes:
Howdy RW (and fellow Escapologists if you’re reading),
E here writing to you from West London – actually, from Croatia where I am lounging on a beach near Split. But usually, based in WLdn.
I am currently re-reading I’m Out (my signed copy… thanks!!) and pondering my current life situation; more specifically, where I may still fall into The Trap.
This year I made a pledge to limit my shopaholic tendencies and have purchased just one non essential item of clothing all year, a very pretty silk dress, at a 15% discount, which I wear almost weekly. Other than that, I have curbed my spending on clothes exponentially, and it’s had an impact on my other spending too. Money spent on non-essentials translates into hours of work I’d need to undertake to pay for them, and whether I would be willing to sacrifice e.g. a day of early retirement for a takeaway and a new jacket. The answer is usually no, and I’ve managed to save approximately a third of my net income per month since adopting this mindset.
I am about to turn 22 years old and am in quite a unique situation where I am a homeowner with no debt, due to a series of both fortunate and unfortunate events, and so I am seeking ways to further reduce my spending so that I can retire, ideally, in the next 18 years. Possibly sooner, 40 just seems like a milestone age. Realistically, with an income of circa £2k/month after PAYE tax, £1.5k after council tax and bills, I should be able to cut out even more expenditure. If I can manage this without cutting out trips to my local pub and social club, this would be ideal. I am attempting to get back into sewing and repairing my own, and friends’/family’s clothes, and have tried my best at cooking from scratch (and growing my own herbs on my flat’s tiny windowsill).
I hope you know you have inspired me to see my friendships, happiness, relationships, hobbies, etc., as priorities over the Trap of careerism. I work a bullshit job. Everyone around me does too. Nobody will remember me as “a competent customer relationship management administrator” when I die.
Cheerio, look forward to reading the next one.
Wish me luck!
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Well, what are you waiting for? Wish her luck, everyone!
So Put Your Little Hand in Mine
This guy escaped his crappy life after watching one of my favourite movies, Groundhog Day.
Within three days of watching Groundhog Day, I’d taken more action than I had in the previous three years. I quit all four of my jobs and broke up with my girlfriend. I used most of my savings to pay back-rent on our flat, then moved into a place on my own.
I did almost nothing for about five weeks. I’d spent every day rushing from job to job, attempting to avoid thinking about my life – so I spent a lot of time just staring at the wall, trying to get to grips with what I wanted to do next. At first it was terrifying, just feeling my brain work – and asking myself all the existential questions I’d been repressing. But slowly, I started to feel a tiny bit less afraid. When my money ran out, I took a catering job, but I made an effort to cap my working hours.
Not bad.
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Get Out!
There’s a lovely quit in The Furnished Room (1961) by the late London Bohemian Laura del Rivo:
“…your progress here has not altogether given satisfaction–”
Beckett cut in, “Alright. We both know that I’m inefficient, habitually late, and completely uninterested in the work that poverty forces me to do. Having agreed this, let’s end the matter without a long and boring discussion.”
Mr Glegg stared at him, his mouth dead-fish open. Then he banged his fist on the desk. “Get out!”
Beckett went.
Shortly after storming out, our hero notices some glittering shards of glass on the floor near the Tube. He zones out on it for a moment and feels happy.
The only place, I think, to get a copy of The Furnished Room now is the wonderful Five Leaves radical Bookshop in Nottingham. So, you know. Do that.
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Admire the Application
I mentioned this narrow boat couple a little while ago. They escaped expensive London in favour of a life of on the canals.
Since then, I’ve become pleasantly hooked on their videos. A lot of the joy comes from the beautiful b-roll and drone footage of frosty fields and ducks-a-dabbling, but I’m also increasingly impressed at the resilience and practical-mindedness of the couple themselves. The episode where they have to rescue a dropped water cap from the canal could have been banal but is riveting.
Sometimes, with escape-to-the-country-type stories, the joy comes from watching silly urbanites floundering and out of their depth. But that’s not true for this pair. They go about things in a very sensible, practical way; always learning but always putting those lessons to good use. Less exciting that the “retrieval” video linked to above is one where Andrew has to fish a carrier bag out of the engine prop: not exciting viewing but a very good case in point.
What all of this should remind us of, once again, is that escape is possible. If you find ways to apply yourself. Yes, escape can be a game and escape can be fun. Above all, it can be a great romance. But admire the application. Admire the seriousness of mssion.
You could dip into any of their videos at all, but here’s their latest episode, posted just yesterday, about the joys of spring on the canal.
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An Escapologist’s Diary: Part 82. Signs of Progress.
Dear diary, not much has changed since my last entry. I’ve been ill for over two months.
Read the rest of this entry »
