Archive for the ‘Read’ Category

Peter Mark Roget FRS 1779-1869

Posted on: March 27th, 2026 by Alan Wareham

Peter Mark Roget FRS 1779-1869: scientist, physician and lover of words

Roget’s Thesaurus. The man and the book are together. Every English-speaking reader or writer born before the computer age is aware of it, and most have used it.  His name has that rare distinction of being automatically associated with his famous product, and he was later joined in those rarefied circles by those such as Henry Ford, Arthur Guinness and Ladislau Biro. Despite that, very few would know anything about the man and his astonishing breadth of interests, or that for a time he lived and worked in Manchester and was part of the Manchester Literary & Philosophical Society.

Early Life

Peter Mark Roget was born in Soho in 1779, the son of Jean Roget, a Huguenot from Geneva who was pastor of the French Protestant Church in Soho, then the centre of a community of those displaced protestants from France and Switzerland. His mother was Catherine, née Romilly, also of Huguenot descent. The son would hardly know his father; in Peter’s infancy, Jean developed tuberculosis and returned to Geneva with his wife in search of better air. Peter was left with his grandparents. Jean did not recover and became too weak to travel; Peter was brought to join his parents in Switzerland, but Jean died there when Peter was four and his sister barely a month old.

Catherine, bereft, returned with her young children to London and lived with the Romilly family briefly. She moved her children between at least a dozen lodgings throughout the south of England and the Midlands over the following decade, failing to find somewhere where she was happy, intermittently returning to live with the Chauvet family, friends from Geneva who had set up an academy for boys in Kensington. There Peter was taught by Etienne Dumont, another friend of the family from Geneva, and he particularly encouraged Peter to study astronomy and literature. Peter was shy, anxious and introverted, and had no opportunity in his peripatetic existence to form friendships. He was also diligent, bookish and clearly of outstanding intelligence, but his mother’s constant demand to move home was destabilising. Peter retreated into his own worlds and, as introvert compulsives often do, he organised those worlds by classifying and by making lists. At the age of eight, he compiled a list of the dates on which family and acquaintances were known to have died, and he added to it constantly until his old age. In the same year he created a list of the English translations of Latin words, not ordered alphabetically but in themes; the very beginnings of a thesaurus which would not emerge complete for a further 65 years.

Training in medicine and early scientific work

Peter’s diffident personality did not immediately suggest a potential career. His mother said that “his mind will, I see, never bend to business except it was nearly connected with books”. Catherine’s brother Samuel (later Sir Samuel Romilly KC, Whig MP, abolitionist, political reformer and Solicitor-General for England and Wales) was very much a father figure, and together he and Catherine decided, perhaps surprisingly, that Peter should become a physician. He duly matriculated at the University of Edinburgh at the age of fourteen (early, but not unique) and graduated MD in 1798 at the age of nineteen, his thesis, submitted in Latin as was then required, being  “De chemicae affinitatis legibus” (“On the Laws of Chemical Affinity”).

Despite his new qualification, no attempt was yet made to practise medicine. As suggested by his thesis, he was more drawn to the sciences than to medicine itself. He had corresponded with Erasmus Darwin, and in 1798 travelled to Derby to meet him, also seeing there Humphrey Davy and Thomas Beddoes, he of the Bristol Pneumatic Institute. Roget decided to follow Beddoes to Bristol and with him and Davy, became involved in work to ascertain whether gas inhalation could cure disease. Unfortunately, their one success (the mood elevation of nitrous oxide) was not followed up, despite “laughing gas”, as Davy called it, being recognised to numb pain. Roget became somewhat disillusioned, and Dumont told him he should return to London.

Roget abroad – a lucky escape

His two years in London were unfocused and unsuccessful. He was initially introduced to Jeremy Bentham by Dumont, staying with him and assisting with Bentham’s (unsuccessful) experiments in refrigeration and sewage treatment. He undertook some further medical tuition but did not set up practice. Romilly felt that he needed to broaden his mind further, and the Peace of Amiens in 1802 once more allowed Continental travel. Romilly introduced Roget to John Leigh Philips, a wealthy mill-owner and manufacturer from Manchester, who was looking for a guardian to take his two teenage sons on a grand tour of Europe. That splendid opportunity began well, but disaster supervened in 1803 when the treaty broke down and Napoleon ordered all Englishmen on French-controlled soil to be detained. Roget and the boys were in Geneva. It took substantial negotiations (conducted, fortunately, in Roget’s fluent French), subterfuge, disguise and travel incognito for Roget to ensure that he and the boys were able to return safely to England. It was clear that John Leigh Philips must have held a profound debt of gratitude to Roget for taking care of his children. In 1804, Roget moved to Manchester and sought appointment as Honorary Physician to the Manchester Infirmary.  As a young man of 25, not from Manchester, little known to the gentry and doctors of the town and with no evidence of previous medical experience, how would he fare? He was appointed. The Chairman of the Board of Manchester Infirmary at the time – one John Leigh Philips.

Roget in Manchester

It was in Manchester that Roget began truly to concentrate and to achieve. His organisational skills rapidly became apparent. He immediately joined the Manchester Literary & Philosophical Society, rapidly becoming its Secretary, then Vice-President. He played an important part in the creation of the Portico Library in 1806, still in existence after 219 years. In 1805, in Manchester, he sat down and began in earnest to build on that list of words he had begun, aged eight. This can be considered the real inception of his thesaurus. In 1806 he joined his Infirmary colleague and fellow Literary & Philosophical Society member Benjamin Gibson, who had been giving series of lectures in anatomy and physiology since 1800, the first to do so publicly. These lectures continued and preceded the formation of the first anatomy school in Manchester in 1814. As such Roget (but unfortunately not Gibson) is celebrated, perhaps slightly over-enthusiastically, as the “co-founder” of Manchester’s medical school on a blue plaque attached to the Coupland Building; the site of the Manchester University Medical School in 1874. Nevertheless, his enthusiasm for teaching was evident and would continue for decades.

The blossoming of a scientific polymath

Roget was Honorary Physician at the Manchester Infirmary for over four years, but the capital beckoned again. He moved back to London. This time, with a record of prior appointment at a large infirmary, he was able to set up medical practice. He became physician to various organisations including the Northern Dispensary, the Spanish Embassy and Millbank Penitentiary, taught at two early medical schools and with a group of colleagues, was instrumental in the creation of London University. He also became almost ubiquitous in the scientific circles of London. He invented a new form of slide rule and was elected part of a Royal Commission to investigate water quality in London. He published papers or books on tuberculosis, electricity and electromagnetism, arsenic poisoning, quarantine, the organisation of ants and bees, visual illusion, and most notably, comparative physiology. He wrote many articles for Encyclopedia Britannica. The breadth of Roget’s interests, and the immense input required to maintain them, can be witnessed by the number of learned societies and organisations in London with which he was associated, most of them for many years, and several in which he held office: 1808, member of the London Medical & Chirurgical Society (becoming Secretary, then President 1829-31); 1809, Fellow of the Geological Society; 1812, Fellow of the Royal Institution (becoming Fullerian Professor of Physiology in 1833); 1814, Fellow of the Royal Society (Secretary 1827-48); 1816, Member of the Royal Society of Arts (Vice-President for over 20 years from 1832); 1822, Member of the Astronomical Society of London; 1827, Fellow of the Zoological Society of London; 1831, Member of the British Association for the Advancement of Science; 1831, Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians (later one of four censors, overseeing qualification standards); 1837, Member of Senate, chairman of the medical faculty and examiner in comparative anatomy and physiology, University of London; 1838, Honorary Member of the Institution of Civil Engineers; 1852, Member of the Graphic Society.

The final project – Roget’s Thesaurus

 

After 1840 Roget gave up medical practice, but by no means did he retire. He needed to be occupied. He continued to lecture and to write prolifically, invented a portable chess board and published chess solutions, attempted to invent a calculating machine and a super-sensitive micro-balance. As a party trick he could from memory calculate pi to 154 places. Work towards his thesaurus (a treasury, from the Greek) began in earnest and after a decade or so of further work it was first published in 1852 as Thesaurus of English words and phrases, classified and arranged so as to facilitate the expression of ideas and assist in literary composition. It was an immediate sell-out and was reprinted twenty-eight times before his death. His son, lawyer, artist and author John Lewis Roget, took over and saw it into the twentieth century. That it is still regularly reprinted today, even though most now access information online, owes him a great debt of research and compilation. Peter Mark Roget now lies quietly in the Malvern hills.

Roget was a busy man. It was clear that his ever-ranging intellect required constant stimulation to provide him with the satisfaction that he apparently never quite attained. He was not a scientific genius, but he was clearly an organiser par excellence of organisations, people and words. His time seemed always to be occupied, yet he felt perhaps that he should have done more. Just before his death, he wrote words that sum up his attitude to life:

Time wastes us all, our bodies and our wits;

But we waste time – so Time and we are quits.

Lit&Phil Member – Nick Jones

William Edward Armytage Axon

Posted on: February 9th, 2026 by Alan Wareham

A life against the odds

William Edward Armytage Axon, born 13th of January 1846, died 27th of December 1913, has been described as the busiest man in Manchester. He was a key figure in Victorian Manchester‘s intellectual life and an active member of The Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society.

His papers, held in the John Rylands library, contain over 6600 letters covering a wide variety of subjects and include correspondence from major Victorian figures such as Walter Bagehot, Millicent Garrett Fawcett and CP Scott. It is said that he wrote or contributed to over 1000 books, articles and other publications.

His life story is surprising and inspirational in the sense that he achieved so much from an extremely disadvantaged start. Those achievements were against the odds, especially in the stratified Victorian society into which he was born.

He was the illegitimate child of Edward Armytage, a clothing manufacturer and a 15-year-old servant girl, Lydia Whitehead, in his employment. The young William was sent to foster parents in Manchester where he lived in poverty and was succumbing to the childhood illnesses that killed many a child in the city at that time. Fortunately for him and Manchester, his neighbours, the Axon family, took pity on him and adopted him into their own home. Although ill health prevented him from having a formal education, he was supported to learn by the daughters of the Axon family and via Sunday school, then the public libraries.

This informal education revealed that he had the ability to absorb huge amounts of information and take an interest in vast range of topics. In this way, this illegitimate child, born into poverty, who in most circumstances at the time would probably not have made it through to adulthood, became a well-known figure in Manchester literary life.

Axon worked as a librarian for Manchester libraries and for 30 years was on the literary staff of the Manchester Guardian, the forerunner of today’s Guardian newspaper. He was a vigorous public letter writer on all sorts of local and national issues. For example, he became involved in the debates around the historical subject matter of the murals being painted for Manchester town hall by Ford Maddox Brown. He wrote books and articles on a wide range of topics including literature, dialect, folklore, and history.

One of the books that he wrote, which gives an interesting insight into his eclectic mind, is The Mechanics Friend – collection of receipts and practical suggestions, published in 1875. This is, in effect, a DIY manual covering topics as diverse as glues, lacquers and locomotives. In it, Axon, who was usually more of a literary than practical man,  collected a huge amount of information to enable the Victorian DIY enthusiast to carry out many household tasks, including cutting a hinge, and, more esoterically, making a raft to rescue someone trapped on ice!

He noted prominently on the frontispiece of the book that he was a member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society, which perhaps indicates a belief that membership gave him authority on practical and scientific matters. Such an endorsement of the Society confirms that it was a well-known and respected institution in Victorian Manchester.

As well as being a prolific author, Axon was a social campaigner.  He was active in campaigns to open up public libraries in Manchester and Salford on Sundays. The idea of this was to allow working class people in the cities to have access to books and knowledge on Sundays, the only day they got off work. The public libraries had educated Axon, and he was keen to extend the opportunity to others from poor backgrounds.

He was also a leading light in the vegetarian movement, holding senior positions in the Vegetarian Society. That movement can trace its roots back to Manchester and Salford and Axon was a passionate early advocate for it. Similarly, he campaigned against tobacco and alcohol, being a member of the anti-tobacco and temperance leagues. These would not necessarily have been universally popular in a Victorian city like Manchester when concern about animal welfare was less common than it is today and tobacco, like a drink, would have been seen as one of the few outlets of pleasure for working people. However, Axon was an extremely principled man and worked throughout his life for various causes without regard to popularity. In addition to writing extensively on the subject, he went as far as to open up his own vegetarian bed and breakfast accommodation in Southport.

He was self-taught in most things and his sponge-like mind allowed him to learn numerous languages which also gave him access to yet further knowledge from other countries and cultures. His involvement in African American campaigns for equality resulted in him being awarded an honorary degree by Wilberforce University in the USA.

Notwithstanding his lack of formal education, his achievements propelled him into the Manchester and national intellectual establishment. He appears in a long list of learned and other societies including Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, President of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquaries, the English Dialect Society and, of course, the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society. It is remarkable that in an era when most members of these institutions would have been drawn from the educated upper and middle classes, the illegitimate boy raised in poverty was invited to join. Today the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society is open to anyone, but in Axon’s time it, like others, required members to be elected. It is a tribute to his lifelong activity and prominence in numerous fields that he was elected to so many positions.

His contributions to the intellectual life of the city were eventually recognised by the University of Manchester, which conferred on him the honorary degree of Master of Arts shortly before his death in 1913. The University officials attended his home to confer the honour on him while he was on his sickbed, reflecting the esteem in which he was held.

Leaving aside his intellectual achievements and recognition by the establishment, it is indicative of the man that he kept in contact with his birth mother and her family, visiting them regularly. It is evident that he never forgot his roots.

For the illegitimate son of a 15-year-old servant girl, born into poverty and with no formal education, this member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society battled against the odds to achieve recognition, advocating for many causes and becoming a thought leader in the City. A Lit and Phil member to be proud of.

Lit&Phil Member – Andrew Welch

Interview with Professor Angie Hobbs

Posted on: January 23rd, 2026 by Alan Wareham

Q. When did philosophy first get its hooks into you, and was there a particular moment, teacher, or book that made you think, “Yes, this is for me”?

A. Yes – for Latin A Level, I studied Lucretius De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things) about Epicurus’ philosophy, and I became hooked by the freewill and determinism debate (for the record, I think they are compatible).  Then, studying Classics at University, and trying to decide whether to specialise in philosophy or literature in my final year, I discovered Plato’s Symposium, a brilliant, vibrant, witty and moving dialogue in which a rich array of characters discuss the nature of erotic love, and I realised I didn’t have to choose!  Plato is a great literary artist as well as a great philosopher.

Q. Of all the thinkers you could have devoted your career to, why Plato? Was it his ideas, his style, the sheer ambition of his project, or something more personal that drew you in and kept you there?

A. Well, in addition to his literary artistry, I love the fact that he never speaks in his own voice – he never tells us exactly what he thinks but compels us to think and do philosophy for ourselves.  He draws us into the conversation.  I also completely agree with him (following his mentor, the historic Socrates) that the two fundamental ethical questions are ‘How should I live?’ and ‘what sort of person should I be?’  It is an agent-centred approach (as opposed to the act-centred approaches of the duty-based ethics of Kant or the consequences-based ethics of Bentham and Mill), and invites us to consider the whole person, living a whole life.  It invites us to consider the shape and structure and narrative of a person’s life – and of course the diverse characters in the dialogues present models to emulate and avoid.

Q. Manchester has a strong identity shaped by industry, dissent, and a certain independence of mind. Do you think Plato would have felt at home in a city like this, and if so, what do you imagine he’d be most intrigued by?

A. I think Plato would greatly have approved of Manchester’s independent and radical spirit!  He would also very much have appreciated its commitment to books, life-long learning and ideas.  And the philosopher who argued in the Republic that there should be Philosopher-Queens as well as Philosopher-Kings would I think have been very pleased by the bronze sculpture of the suffragette leader Emmeline Pankhurst in St Peter’s Square, and the Pankhurst Meeting Circle that surrounds it.

Q. The Lit & Phil was founded on the belief that learning should be shared beyond universities and elites. How important is that ideal to you personally, and does it connect with anything in Plato’s own approach to teaching and dialogue?

A. It’s hugely important to me, and the reason why I was created the world’s first (as far as I know) Professor of the Public Understanding of Philosophy – for many years I have combined academic writing and teaching with public talks and media work in television, radio and podcasts and so on, and, increasingly, also with policy and consultancy work, for example with the NHS, the Health Research Authority, the Cabinet Office and other branches of the Civil Service and the World Economic Forum.  My aim is not just to expound the views of different philosophers, but to see how philosophical arguments, concepts and methods might fruitfully be applied to current challenges.   I am definitely inspired by Plato in this endeavour: he wanted his dialogues to reach as wide an audience as possible, and he set up his Academy in Athens not just to train scholars such as Aristotle, but also political leaders and policy advisers.  And in addition to lectures to these elite groups, he also gave public lectures (which, very unusually for the time, women could also attend).

Q. How important is it, given the amount of time and impact of social media and fake news, that young people learn how to think critically, and how can Philosophy help with this?

A. I think it is absolutely vital – for their individual psychological and physical wellbeing, and also for communal issues such as the protection of democracy, combatting pandemics and dealing with climate change.  Many subjects can help young people think critically and assess the veracity of verbal and visual sources and the validity of arguments, but philosophy is exceptionally well-equipped to do this.  I would love social media platforms to be subject to publishing editorial controls, but that seems a long way off, so we must give young people the tools to see through the smoke-and-mirrors of the snake oil merchants trying to deceive, divide and manipulate them.  Another point in philosophy’s favour is that  through its use of imaginary scenarios, counter-factuals and so on, it can also foster creative as well as analytic skills, creativity that the twenty-first century very clearly needs.

Q. Away from lecture theatres and libraries, what does Angie Hobbs enjoy? Are there interests, hobbies, or even guilty pleasures that might surprise people who only know you as a Plato scholar, and do any of them feed back into how you think about philosophy?

A. I have many interests!  Music, the theatre, travelling, nature in both its wild and gardened forms, walking, swimming and yoga … and many sports, especially cricket!  I love Test Match Special and one of my happiest days was being interviewed by Jonathan Agnew in View from the Boundary.  And I have an extensive knowledge of herbs (and grow a wide variety), and brew many of my own concoctions for minor ailments (though I use standard medicine too).

Q. Because you spend your life thinking carefully and philosophically, how easy do you find it to make snap decisions in everyday life, or do you find yourself mentally arguing both sides first?

A. I’m pretty decisive in terms of everyday and aesthetic decisions – I usually choose pretty quickly if I am buying clothes or selecting a paint colour.  I do try to think difficult ethical issues through carefully in a general way, in the hope that when I am called upon to make a quick decision in a crisis or personal situation, I will have done a fair bit of the thinking in advance and will be able to apply the general principles to the particular circumstances.  I find that I am very often applying an updated version of Plato’s ethics and (small ‘p’) politics of flourishing.

Thank you to Professor Angie Hobbs for taking the time to answer our questions.

Our event – Why Plato Matters Now – takes place at the RNCM in Manchester on Wednesday 11 March.

Alan Turing

Posted on: January 9th, 2026 by Alan Wareham

Alan Turing was a visionary mathematician, scientist and codebreaker whose key role in deciphering the Enigma code during World War II reached a wide audience in the acclaimed 2014 film ‘The Imitation Game’. However, his work in the post-war years in Manchester also impacted biology and chemistry, as well as laying the groundwork for the development of the modern computer and the concept of Artificial Intelligence.

Photograph portrait of Alan Turing, taken on 29 March 1951.

Early Life and Background

Born on June 23, 1912, in Maida Vale, London, Alan Turing was the second child of Julius and Ethel Turing. His father was a civil servant in the Indian Civil Service, whilst his mother came from a family of engineers. His family was upper-middle-class, and Alan and his brother both attended boarding school at Sherborne in Dorset, as their parents lived overseas. His school years had a profound and complex effect on Turing as he struggled with the school’s classical curriculum and lack of support for his passion for science and mathematics. However, he pursued advanced topics on his own and showed remarkable intellectual independence. During his time at Sherborne, he formed a close friendship with fellow student Christopher Morcom – Morcom’s death at 18 years old from tuberculosis had a significant impact on Turing and led to his lifelong fascination with the mind and consciousness. Turing began to explore the idea that the mind could be mechanised, a theme that would later become central to his work in artificial intelligence.

After leaving school, Turing followed his passion and pursued a degree in Mathematics at King’s College, Cambridge (1931-34) achieving First Class Honours. His primary interest was in pure mathematics, with a strong focus on logic, quantum mechanics, and probability theory. In 1935 he was elected a fellow of King’s College for his work in probability theory. The following year Turing published a seminal mathematics paper, ‘On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungs Problem, which came to be seen as a theoretical basis for today’s computers. It included a definition of the “universal machine”, a computer which held its programme on tape, laying the theoretical foundation for modern computers. Turing continued his studies, completing his PhD in Mathematical Logic at Princeton University in USA under the mathematician Alonzo Church. In 1938 he returned to England and began working for the Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park alongside his academic work and lecturing at Cambridge, before joining Bletchley full time following the outbreak of the war.

His wartime efforts at Bletchley Park, particularly in developing the Bombe machine to decrypt German Enigma cipher codes, significantly contributed to the Allied victory. It has been suggested that his codebreaking work shortened the war by three to four years, saving in excess of 20 million lives.

Key Contributions and Achievements in Manchester

The Ferranti Mark 1 and Programming Innovations

After the war, Turing was based at the National Physical Laboratory where he designed the Automatic Computing Engine (ACE – a computer which filled an entire room) and subsequently moved to Manchester University’s Computing Machine Laboratory in 1948, where he helped with the development of the Small Scale Experimental Machine (also known as ‘Baby’) which was the world’s first stored programme computer.

At the University of Manchester, Turing collaborated with engineers like Frederic C. Williams and Tom Kilburn and their efforts culminated in the development of the Manchester Mark 1. At this point, the UK Government Chief Scientist provided a substantial grant to local firm Ferranti and the computer was developed into Ferranti Mark 1 – the first commercially available general-purpose computer.

Manchester University SSEM ‘Baby’ replica on display at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester.

Advancements in Artificial Intelligence and Morphogenesis

Turing’s work in Manchester also included his pioneering work in artificial intelligence (AI). He proposed the concept of machine learning and introduced the “Turing Test” to assess a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour indistinguishable from that of a human. The Turing Test is still used today, and while no AI has definitively passed the test, it is still a valuable framework for evaluating AI’s ability to mimic human conversation and is often used as a benchmark in AI research.

Additionally, Turing delved into mathematical biology, formulating reaction-diffusion models to explain patterns in nature, such as the arrangement of leaves and the stripes on animals, a field now known as morphogenesis. Turing’s groundbreaking 1952 paper, “The Chemical Basis of Morphogenesis,” proposed that patterns in biological organisms could be explained by the interaction of two chemicals, which he termed morphogens. These morphogens react and diffuse through space at different rates, forming stable patterns. This idea became known as the reaction-diffusion model. Turing’s equations showed how even a homogeneous collection of cells could spontaneously develop spatial patterns through small instabilities in concentration, providing a plausible mechanism for natural pattern formation.

A Quirky Mind in a Rigorous World

Geniuses are often described as eccentric, and Turing’s eccentric personality often became apparent in his daily habits. At Bletchley Park, he famously chained his tea mug to a radiator to prevent it from being stolen. He was also an exceptional long-distance runner and would often be seen jogging between meetings. Turing once clocked marathon times close to Olympic standard and even attempted to qualify for the 1948 British Olympic team.

Turing’s Personal Life and Persecution

Despite his groundbreaking achievements, Turing faced immense personal struggles due to his homosexuality, which was illegal in the UK at the time. In 1952, he was prosecuted for “gross indecency” after admitting to a consensual relationship with another man. Rather than serve a prison sentence, Turing chose chemical castration through hormone therapy, which caused severe physical and psychological side effects. His conviction led to the loss of his security clearance, barring him from further cryptographic work. Although he continued his research at Manchester, the stigma and surveillance he suffered had a significant impact upon him. On June 7, 1954, Turing was found dead at his home in Wilmslow from cyanide poisoning in an apparent suicide. Decades later, in 2009, he received a posthumous government apology, and, in 2013, a royal pardon. In 2017, the “Alan Turing Law” was enacted to pardon others similarly convicted, finally recognising the enormous injustice he and others had endured.

Impact on Manchester and Beyond

Turing’s work in Manchester had profound implications both locally and globally. The Ferranti Mark 1 not only sealed Manchester’s status as a hub for computer research but also laid the foundation for the UK’s computing industry. Turing’s research in AI and morphogenesis opened new avenues in computer science and biology, influencing generations of scientists. His legacy is commemorated in Manchester through landmarks like the Alan Turing Building at the University of Manchester and the Alan Turing Memorial in Sackville Gardens. In 2021, Turing’s contributions were nationally recognised when he was featured on the UK’s £50 banknote.

Legacy and Inspiration

Alan Turing’s time in Manchester, which is usually overshadowed by his achievements at Bletchley Park, was nevertheless a period of remarkable innovation that significantly advanced the fields of computing, artificial intelligence, and morphogenesis. His work not only transformed Manchester into a centre for technological development but also left lasting marks on the global scientific community.

As a member of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society in the early 1950s, Turing embodied the organisation’s commitment to intellectual curiosity and interdisciplinary exploration.

 

Lit&Phil Member – Jon Sime

Isabella Banks

Posted on: October 28th, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Isabella Banks née Varley.

Professionally known as Mrs G. Linnæus Banks.

Mancunian Author and Poet

25th March 1821 – 4th May 1897

Introduction

Isabella Banks was a Victorian author and poet. Though not a member of the Manchester Literary & Philosophical Society herself, she was born and bred in Manchester and she sounds like the kind of strong and opinionated woman who would embody the Man Lit & Phil’s value of intellectual curiosity. Known for her most famous book, ‘The Manchester Man’ she wrote twelve novels and three volumes of poetry as well as being a prolific contributor to the Notes and Queries section of the ‘Manchester City News’.  Between 1878 and 1897 (the year of her death) she wrote comments on over 150 Notes and Queries. These included lamenting, after her husband’s death, to having changed her name to that of her husband’s (who was also an author). Replying in a Notes and Queries article in the ‘Manchester City News’ in 1881 she remarked that there was “no reason that a woman should drop her maiden name” and that whoever came up with the new system of a woman keeping her name (in a double barrelled fashion) had done a “good service to her sisterhood, it not only preserves a woman’s individuality but tends to keep alive association with her own kith and kin.”

Early Life and Background

Isabella Banks was born Isabella Varley on the 25th March 1821. Some of the biographical details we know about her are from her very own copy of ‘The Annals of Manchester’, an 1886 record of the history of Manchester by W.E.A. Axon which includes mention of local people of note.

E.L. Burney, a local Didsbury biographer of Isabella Banks, was gifted a copy of the ‘Annals of Manchester’ with her bookplate and inscription, and observed she had added extensive handwritten notes in the book’s margins. On finding her own omission from the chronicles of notable births in 1821, Isabella had annotated the book to add her own biographical information. She wrote in the margins, “I was born on Oldham Street 25th March…” and was “…baptised by Joshua Brookes” – whom she later chronicled in The Manchester Man. We also find out, through her own annotations, that she was born during a “13 week frost.”

Isabella  lived in Manchester from her birth, to Amelia and James Varley, until she was around 27 years old, publishing her first poem, age 16, titled ‘A dying girl to her mother’ in the ‘Manchester Guardian’. From references in E.L. Burney’s book, there is mention of her “commencing” a School for Young Ladies in Cheetham at only 17 years of age. No reference to the exact school can be found, but it seems she ran it until she left both the school and Manchester in 1848. She married fellow author George Linnaeus Banks in December 1846, at Manchester Collegiate Church, subsequently taking his name for her publications.

Key contributions and achievements

Isabella Banks was one of only 36 female members (out of around 1000 in total) of the Manchester Mechanics Institute which had the aim of enabling Mechanics and Artisans to be acquainted with science. Many members were also members of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society. She was also a member of the Ladies Committee of the Anti-Corn Law League – which was itself established in Manchester. The Corn Laws imposed tariffs on imported grain to keep prices high to protect British farmers and landowners from cheaper foreign imports following the end of the Napoleonic War. A consequence of this was that bread became more and more expensive and unaffordable – especially to the poor. The law became increasingly unpopular with ordinary people, as well as to employers, who had to pay workers a higher wage to keep pace with price increases. It even contributed to the deaths seen in the Irish Potato Famine as there was a lack of surplus wheat available to help feed people. The law was repealed in 1846 – a victory for the Anti-Corn Law League and advocates of free trade, but led to Sir Robert Peel resigning as Prime Minister the same day due to opposition from his Conservative Party and British landowners.

Isabella was a member of the Sun Inn group of poets, named after the pub on Long Millgate in Manchester (opposite what is now Chetham’s School of Music in Cathedral Gardens) where a, mainly self-taught, group of writers met between 1840 and 1843. The group is attributed to have been started by the pub’s landlord William Earnshaw, (a friend of Isabella’s father), who, when realising he was onto a good thing, is said to have set up a new sign of ‘Poet’s Corner’ on the front of the inn – welcoming men of the literature and the arts to the upstairs snug. ‘Poet’s Corner’ articles were common in most newspapers of the time, allowing aspiring poet’s to submit their works, get published and help with the paper’s sales. This is probably how Isabella got her first poem published aged 16. She was encouraged to write poems to be included in the ‘Oddfellow’s Quarterly’ (where she met her husband) and ‘Bradshaw’s Journal’ by the then editors who were also members of the group. She also has a contribution called ‘Love’s Faith’ in the groups only published anthology, ‘The Festive Wreath’ a collection of original contributions read at a meeting on 24Th March 1842. It was noted by Michael Powell (past chief librarian of Chetham’s library) that Isabella was too shy to actually present any of her poems, instead “hiding behind a velvet curtain at the back of the room” and asked others to read her works. It appears that the Poet’s Corner meetings were often rowdy, male dominated, affairs with much singing and drinking. Not the usual hang out of a Victorian lady!

Isabella Banks’s most famous book is undoubtedly ‘The Manchester Man’ which is a very engaging and highly recommended read even for a 21st century audience. The book was initially published in 1874 as a series of articles in ‘Cassell’s Family Magazine’, a popular general interest periodical. It was then published in book form in 1876, with an updated illustrated version published shortly before Isabella’s death in 1896. It follows orphaned Jabez Clegg through his life and ascent through Manchester society. Guiding the reader through Jabez’s trials and successes plus a love triangle with his nemesis along the way, the book includes the description of a number of historical events. One incident of note being the Peterloo Massacre of 16th August 1819 at St Peter’s Field (now St Peter’s Square, in Manchester) where a peaceful assembly of around 60,000 protestors gathered in favour of political reform, demanding parliamentary representation for the industrial North at a time when less than 3% of the population had the vote. The magistrates of the day became increasingly worried about the (still peaceful) protesters who were waiting for the political orator Henry Hunt to speak, and ordered, initially the amateur yeomanry cavalry, and then the army – on horseback with sabres – to disperse the crowd (events described in Isabella’s book). It is estimated that at least 15 people died from sabre cuts and trampling, and nearly 700 people were injured. The term “Peterloo” was coined to mock the soldiers who killed unarmed civilians as a contrast to the men seen as heroes from the Battle of Waterloo.

The original manuscript of ‘The Manchester Man’ is held at Chetham’s Library, Manchester. Other items that once belonged to Isabella and a marble bust of her in her youth, are held in the E.L. Burney collection in John Ryland’s library.

Isabella was involved with the 1864 tercentennial (300th year) commemorations of the birth of Shakespeare on Primrose Hill in London. She “christened” the oak tree planted by actor Samuel Phelps, on the hill during the ceremony with “water from the River Avon” as “Shakespeare’s Oak.” The poet Eliza Cooke had written a poem and was meant to give the address, but was unwell, so Isabella deputised for her in front of a crowd estimated at around 10,000. According to a newspaper report she gave a “short and exceedingly well-worded speech, the only defect of which, was that, as might have been anticipated, its delivery was marred by the nervousness natural to a lady addressing so large and so public an audience for the first time.”

Some lesser-known facts

  • Jabez Clegg, “The Manchester Man” of her book’s title was also the name of a (now closed) pub near Manchester University.
  • A pub named after Joshua Brooks, the chaplain who baptised Isabella and whom she wrote about in The Manchester Man, has been a well-known City Centre bar for over twenty years.
  • Isabella Banks Street (M15 4RL) runs between Tony Wilson Place and Medlock Street in the centre of Manchester.
  • Isabella was noted to have paralysis of the sixth (cranial) nerve of her left eye -reportedly caused from “inflammation” as a baby due to the use of a “smoky chimney that was impossible to repair…during a 13 week frost”. As a result her left eye would have been unable to look outwards to her left.
  • Though Isabella started writing poetry as a teenager her writing career took a backseat during the first part of her marriage whilst she looked after the surviving three of her eight children. She, however, had to become the main family breadwinner and started writing again – aged 43 – when her husband, suffering from cancer, turned to alcohol to try and relieve his pain.
  • A quotation from her book ‘The Manchester Man’ appears on “Broadcaster and Cultural Catalyst” Tony Wilson’s gravestone in Southern Cemetery, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, South Manchester.

 

“Mutability is the epitaph of worlds

Change alone is changeless

People drop out of the history of a life as of a land

though their work or their influence remains”

 

(The Epitaph is from the start of Chapter The Seventeenth – In the Warehouse)

  • Isabella herself died aged 76 on 4th May 1897 and is buried in Abney Park cemetery Stoke Newington.
  • As well as writing novels and short stories, Isabella was a well-regarded poet and so to finish, here is a favourite, which still resonates today:

 

Deceived!

By Mrs G Linnæus Banks

On the Banks of a tranquil lake

A maiden reclined and dream’d

Of the hearts she would win and break

While that summer sunlight beam’d;

She mused o’er her victories past,

Of her captives yet to be;

And the spells she would round them cast

To bring them down to her knee

 

On the shore of a troubled lake

A maiden wander’d alone,

‘Mong the hearts she had vow’d to break

She had not counted her own;

But a brighter eye than her own,

A tongue as false and as fair,

Won her soul with a look and a tone,

Then left her to love and despair.

 

Lit&Phil Member – Nicola Barnes

Obituary for Marjorie Ainsworth

Posted on: August 21st, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Marjorie Ainsworth joined the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society (Lit & Phil) in 1955 and had been a member ever since – becoming an Honorary Member in 2005 (normally applied after 50 years’ membership). She came to events regularly until 2020 – when Covid and failing eyesight caused her to be unable to attend. However, she kept a lively interest in the Lit & Phil. She also wrote an article for the Memoirs which is well worth reading – and is available to view by members on the website – Volume 152 (2013-14), pages 140-144. Her husband Tom joined with her, and they were apparently very much part of a group of members in the 60s who would often cook stews and hotpots, to feed members after lectures!

Marjorie and Tom (he sadly died in 2007 at the age of 85) were also very keen members of the Manchester and Salford Film Society, Tom joined at the age of 16 and Marjorie at 17. Marjorie remained very active in that group, over the following 86 years, and became President – see the webpage of the Society, which contains a delightful video of Marjorie, detailing her involvement with it over so many decades – https://mandsfilmsociety.org.uk/

Sue Hilton

20 August 2025

Below is the article Marjorie wrote for the Memoirs Volume 152 (2013-14)

The Olden Days at the Lit & Phil

MARJORIE AINSWORTH

My late husband, Tom and I became members of the Lit & Phil in 1955. We had been recruited by a Miss Blackledge, who joined in 1953. We had made her acquaintance through our involvement with the Manchester Area Youth Film Council and her Presidential role with the Girls and Lads Club Association. The registered address at that time was the Portico Library, because the Society’s original Georgian house at 36 George Street had been blown up. It was then completely demolished by the Fire Brigade to provide a much-needed fire-break during one of the air raids in the Manchester Blitz. Council Meetings were held there and the occasional lecture. The first Lit & Phil event we attended was in the Reading Room at the Portico. Although the audience was necessarily small, some of us had to sit on piles of dusty tomes as the Portico itself had not fully recovered from the effects of the Blitz. The talk on ‘Abstract Impressionism’ was given by two members – Marcus and Mitzi Cunliffe. Marcus taught American Studies at the University and Mitzi was a sculptor whose best-known work is the golden BAFTA mask, which is still in use at award ceremonies. It was the first Tom and I had heard about Jackson Pollock et al. We were fascinated and decided there and then that joining the Society was a good move and promised an interesting and intriguing future.

There were about 350 members when we joined. Lectures were mostly arranged by Council, but Special Lectures were organised by the Chemical Section which, after a brief period as the Natural Philosophy Section, became the Science and Technology Section and the already functioning Social Philosophy Section. The Arts Section was not formed until 1970 and the first mention of it is in the Memoirs for that year. Margaret Pilkington was its first Chairman. Lectures were mostly held in the Reynolds Hall at the Manchester College of Technology (later to become UMIST) at the Whitworth Gallery and at various venues at Manchester University. During this time, plans were being made for the construction of a new home on the site of the demolished building in George Street. This was officially opened in September 1960. Tom and I were present at the inaugural address given by the President of the Royal Society, Sir Cyril Hinshelwood, its title being ‘The Arts and the Sciences’, a topic much discussed in intellectual circles at that time. I have a faded photograph of much younger versions of the two of us seated on the second row, on either side of our guest, Jim Whittaker. During the planning stage, discussions were also held about the best location for the Society’s visual aid equipment – an epidiascope and a slide projector. It just so happened that the Manchester & Salford Film Society, of which Tom was the Chairman, was desperately seeking a new home to continue in its attempts to bring art house and world cinema to the people of Manchester. Council’s agreement was obtained for the construction of a proper projection box at the rear of the lecture theatre, which would accommodate the Film Society’s two 16mm projectors. This would kill two birds with one stone; the Film Society would have somewhere to hold its performances, and the Lit & Phil would be able to offer film projection facilities to any organisation hiring the theatre for its meetings. Film Society committee members would act as projectionists when needed. This collaboration worked very well for all the eighteen years of the new building’s existence. Many Manchester Societies held their meetings in the lecture theatre and were very appreciative of the facilities provided. One such was the Scientific Film Society, of which Tom was the Chairman, mainly attended by sixth formers from local schools who were interested in the sciences. I recall sitting through a mind-numbing series of films entitled Corrosion, Parts 1, 2 and 3.

Every new season in September began with something called a ‘Conversatzione’. I think we dressed up a bit, were formally greeted by the current President and then given a glass of sherry. I don’t remember what happened after that. There was no Young People’s Section at the time, but there was always a Christmas Lecture for the children and grandchildren of members. This was one occasion when the Society’s splendid laboratory bench was called into action. There were many exciting demonstrations, usually involving explosions. The years at George Street were interesting and exciting. Tom and I practically lived on the premises. When we were not arranging the Film Society events, we were often to be found in the projection box operating the slide projector or film projector for an organisation which had hired the premises, as well as attending the Lit & Phil’s own meetings. Of the hundreds of lectures, I must have attended at George Street only a few are still vivid in my mind: Henry Lipson’s lecture about microwaves where he made a cake in a crude prototype oven of his own devising. He passed bits of cake to the members present; it was not very nice. Then there was Sir William Empson sporting a beard that looked like Spanish Moss telling us about ‘Seven Kinds of Ambiguity’. I am afraid it was as incomprehensible to many of us as the most erudite and obscure offerings of the Science and Technology Section. I remember being asked to look after Prof. Eysenck before his talk on ‘Personality Testing’ which was interesting, and one occasion, when I happened to be on the premises, Mrs. Garlick asked me if I would mind nipping over to Lewis’s Food Hall to get a jar of horseradish sauce to accompany the roast dinner which Council members enjoyed before their deliberations. Those were the days! Mr. and Mrs. Garlick were the caretakers and occupied the flat on the top floor. Members could always pop into the House for a cup of coffee or a snack or just nice sit down. The Garlicks usually provided a finger buffet for consumption before lectures. I have no happy memories of these buffets; I can still taste the margarine. The Arts Section buffets were always appreciated as we did our own thing. Molly Booth sourced the quiches; Tom and I raided Makro for the paté and cheese. We provided nice crusty bread and real butter. Wine boxes with red and white plonk enabled us to go on serving until they were well and truly empty, and this proved to be a popular Arts Section feature. The fact that I cannot remember more of the superb lectures at George Street is a pity, but at least I know a little something must have rubbed off as I now know of more unknowns. It was inspiring to walk past John Dalton’s headstone, set in the wall of the porch, which had been rescued from Ardwick Cemetery. I don’t know where it is now. Just inside the front door on the left was a minute office, from which Mary Urell miraculously dealt with all the Society’s administrative tasks.

The opening of the new house had a surprising and totally unexpected galvanising effect on a group of the more forward-looking members. I particularly remember Leonard Cohen who owned Henry’s department store on Market Street. His aim in life was to bring art to the masses. He exhibited Epstein’s Adam in the basement of his store and donated a fountain to Piccadilly Gardens. The new house so inspired him; he conceived the notion that George Street could become the epicentre of artistic activity in Manchester. He actually envisaged a new Opera House could be built between 36 George Street and the Art Gallery. His idea to have an extra storey built on the flat roof of No.36 to house an Arts Workshop accessible from the car park was, as it turned out, a structural impossibility. As a preliminary step toward achieving some of these ambitions, a group of members including Leonard in their own time and on their own initiative set up the Manchester Institute of Contemporary Art, MICA. They were not to be outdone by London where the Institute of Contemporary Arthad just been opened. Most of MICA’s events took place at the Lit& Phil house. Tom was the film officer, and I was a committee member. We played to packed houses when films of an experimental and avant-garde nature were screened. Some of the Lit & Phil members involved in all this activity were, as I hazily recall, Maurice Pariser – who unfortunately died before these dreams could be fulfilled, and Robert Sheldon and Edmund Dell who departed to become Labour Members of Parliament. We had the young Seamus Heaney reading his poetry on two occasions, a whole host of North West poets and many up-and-coming artists of the day. These were heady days expressing the general air of post-war optimism that seemed to promise a life more exciting and interesting than heretofore. It was undoubtedly the presence of the new, modern and accommodating building in the centre of Manchester that triggered these ambitious but finally impossible dreams.

There was only one unfortunate and unforeseen event which cause a temporary blip in relations between Lit& Phil and the Film Society. The North West Group of the British Federation of Film Societies hired the Lit and Phil premises for one of their Annual Viewing Sessions on a Saturday afternoon. These sessions were held for committee members of film societies to preview newly available films which they might want to include in their future programmes. The films came as a package direct from the British Film Institute in London and their content was unknown to the viewing panel assembled in the Lecture Theatre. As luck would have it Canon Saxon had arranged to meet his wife in the car park when she had finished her shopping, and seeing that something was happening in the house, decided to have a look. The film on the screen at that moment happened to be a short subject reel by Kenneth Anger (a famous and well-regarded director) called Fireworks. None of the people present had seen the film before and were oblivious as to its content. They were just as startled as Canon Saxon to find they were looking at a pixellated and impressionistic depiction of a meeting between several gay sailors. The matter was raised at a subsequent Council Meeting by Canon Saxon. After a full explanation had been accepted – cordial relations were resumed and lasted for all the eighteen years of the building’s existence. Unfortunately, it eventually became apparent that something was radically wrong with the fabric of the building. Cracks began to appear in the walls and the flat roof leaked. The fault lay in the use of high alumina cement in its construction. This was a wonder innovation of the 50’s lauded for its quick-drying properties. The firms involved in the building of the house had gone into liquidation and there was no alternative but to sell the site and become peripatetic until new permanent premises could be found. Our exodus after only eighteen years was inevitable, and inflation and rising property prices soon made a permanent home highly unlikely. I remember the admin offices in Brown Street and the Law Library, before MMU came to the rescue. Section meetings were held in Platt Chapel, St. Thomas’s on Ardwick Green, the Withington Girls High School, the Edgar Wood Centre in Victoria Park, the Muriel Stott Centre at Manchester University, and the Portico Library. The Film Society was also again desperately seeking somewhere to live and was saved by the Manchester Amateur Photographic Society which had just purchased Platt Chapel in Fallowfield.

Tom was an early Chairman of the Arts Section of which I was later Secretary and then Chairman. We were both co-opted to the Arts Section committee for many years, no doubt because of our joint long- term memory stores. My short-term memory is now less than reliable. Tom died in 2007 at the age of 85 but if he could see us now, he would be greatly gratified to see the Literary & Philosophical Society, of which he was very fond, flourishing and growing in spite of its past vicissitudes. I cannot believe that I have achieved doyenneship of the Society in my 94th year and can still remember listening to Marcus and Mitzi in 1955.

Elizabeth Gaskell

Posted on: August 15th, 2025 by Alan Wareham

Elizabeth Gaskell (1810 – 1865): Weaving Stories of Society and Spirit

The celebrated author Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell lived at 84 Plymouth Grove, Manchester with her husband the Reverend William Gaskell and their family from 1850 until her death in 1865. Plymouth Grove is a large house, which at that time was set amongst beautiful rolling fields. It is now open to the public and home to the Elizabeth Gaskell Society.

Born Elizabeth Cleghorn Stevenson in London in 1810, a year later, on the death of her mother, Elizabeth was taken to live in Knutsford, Cheshire, with her aunt, Hannah Lumb. The arrangement was a happy one – she was to refer to her aunt as ‘my more than mother’ and was to use Knutsford as the inspiration for her fictitious town of Cranford. Knutsford also became ‘Hollingford’ in her novel Wives and Daughters. After leaving school in 1826, the young Elizabeth returned to Chelsea to live with her father and his second wife. Her father died in 1829, and the network of Unitarians provided her with a new base, at the home of the Reverend William Turner in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. In 1831 she met the Reverend William Gaskell, then a junior minister at Cross Street Unitarian Chapel in Manchester and the following year they were married.

So it was that, in 1832, Elizabeth Gaskell found herself newly married and living in the great industrial city of Manchester, also known as ‘Cottonopolis’ after the trade that created its wealth. Like her husband, she was a Unitarian through and through, and her religion was direct, scripture based and, above all, practical. She believed in doing any good that was possible in her immediate environment, and she was possessed of a strong sense of duty. This was one of the common bonds that made her a friend to another famous writer of the period, Charlotte Bronte, whose biography she was to write in 1857, at the request of Charlotte’s father, Patrick.

For the first 16 years of her married life, Elizabeth Gaskell bore several children: while four daughters survived, her first child was still born and her only son, William, died at ten months of scarlet fever. As a distraction from her grief, her husband suggested that she write a novel. It was out of this sorrow that her first novel Mary Barton was born. The novel scandalised much of Victorian society, partly through its unflinching account of the grim realities of life in the newly industrialised cities, but also because its sympathies lay so squarely with the workers in relation to their employers.

Mary Barton, was published anonymously in 1848, as was common for many novels of the time, particularly by women authors. Mary Barton had a great impact on the reading public and was widely reviewed and discussed. The anonymity of the author was not to last however, and once her name was known she found herself courted by London’s literary elite becoming friendly with Carlyle and Dickens – who pressed her into writing for his periodical Household Words – and meeting Charlotte Bronte for the first time. She later published as Mrs Gaskell.

Despite the success of Mary Barton, it was not until 1855 that she produced the companion volume North and South. In between publishing these two novels, she contributed many stories to Household Words, including episodes of one of her best-known novels, Cranford. After the death of Charlotte Bronte in 1855 Elizabeth Gaskell wrote what has been described as the first modern biography, The Life of Charlotte Bronte.

She continued with her stories for Dickens, and other works include Ruth (1853) My Lady Ludlow (1858), Sylvia’s Lovers (1863), Cousin Phillis (1864) and Wives and Daughters (1866).

Elizabeth’s diary and her many wonderful letters, show her as a conscientious mother, deeply concerned about her family. She and her husband worked amongst the poor of Manchester during a period of great social change. They also enjoyed a thriving professional circle of friends. William co-founded the Unitarian College in Manchester, was Chairman of the Portico Library, Manchester and on the committee of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society.

She was a prolific writer, a volunteer teacher and charity worker, a traveller at home and abroad (usually with a daughter, but without William) and a very sociable woman. She would mix happily with people of all types, and she used her experiences in her writing. She seems to have been a charming, but independent-minded woman. Her enterprise is shown in the fact that she bought a large house in Hampshire, without William’s knowledge, as a surprise present for him and as security for her daughters.

Elizabeth’s writing is remarkably varied and includes almost forty short stories, ranging from social realism to ghost stories. Her novel Cranford has never been out of print. Her final novel Wives and Daughters was left unfinished when she died suddenly of heart failure on 12th November 1865 aged just 55.

Although described by the press after her death as ‘one of the greatest female novelists of all time’, Elizabeth Gaskell’s literary fame faded in the early twentieth century and for some she still remains in the shadow of her contemporaries, Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens.

Over the last 30 years we have thankfully seen a resurgence in her popularity as new readers discover and enjoy her stories. She is now read and studied across the world with her novels and short stories translated into many languages.

Many people have also been introduced to Elizabeth Gaskell via the different television adaptations of her works, which continue to entertain and enthral us!

The John Ryland’s Library in Manchester holds the world’s most important collection of literary manuscripts by Elizabeth Gaskell, including the only complete manuscript of Wives and Daughters and her celebrated biography of her friend Charlotte Brontë.

Debbie Pine, member of Manchester Lit & Phil

Message from our President – April 2025

Posted on: April 2nd, 2025 by mlpEditor

Hello and welcome to our April Newsletter.

For all our readers who have just celebrated Eid, let me wish you a belated Eid Mubarak from everyone at Manchester Lit & Phil.

I start this month by sharing sad news: Cecile Elstein, a member since 1994, passed away suddenly at the beginning of March. I am sure that everyone at Manchester Lit & Phil will take a moment to remember this fantastic lady and send our love to all those touched by her loss. I would also recommend reading the obituary, which Dr Paul Miller very kindly wrote.

March was another busy month, featuring five events, one at a new venue. We are eager to cultivate a close relationship with the new Sister development in the Renold building. Follow this link to learn more about this exciting innovation district and ideas hub. I want to thank Rachel Croft for her efforts in identifying this opportunity.

Manchester Town Hall: The Revival of a Gothic Masterpiece proved very popular, with over 250 people reserving tickets. This is one of several events this year that have surpassed the 200-attendee milestone. Our next target is to host at least one 200+ event each term. These events introduce many people to the Society, keep our members engaged, and provide a historic and respected platform for potential speakers.

With over 20 events behind us, we still have much to offer before July. As a taster (I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist), I would highlight the interview with Sam Buckley, Chef Patron at Where The Light Gets In, which is educational and informative, ahead of our event, How Can We Create a Good Food Future? – a talk by Dr Lesley Mitchell.

We received a great response to our request for trustees and volunteers. The process is still moving forward; we have made a couple of appointments and will announce them in a separate communication.

Looking to the future, there is always a moment during a change journey when the signs are positive, and it can feel like the work is complete. The revival of Manchester Lit & Phil began when Sue Hilton and Ian Cameron served as Presidents. My term is ending, and I want to thank everyone for working so hard during the “transitional” phase. There is still much progress to be made. We have always stated that this is a three- to five-year project, and our next President and their team will still have tasks to tackle if we are to become the thriving, diverse organisation that will help educate Manchester.

With that in mind, please promote our events, attend, engage with our social media and most of all, bring a friend and enjoy an event together.

For all of you who will be celebrating Easter, Happy Easter. If not, I hope you have a pleasant time over the Bank Holiday weekend.

Regards & thanks

Peter Wright

Interview with Sam Buckley

Posted on: March 25th, 2025 by mlpEditor

Q: Your approach to cooking has been described as ethically-centred. How do you define ‘ethical food,’ and how has this definition evolved throughout your career?

A: ‘Ethical food’ is perhaps a term I’d avoid using as a description of cooking, just as I might avoid the term ‘sustainable’. The modern-day terms that are invented as a byproduct of the modern-day climate crisis may have in the past been summarised with phrases such as make and “make do”, “grow your own”, “waste not want not”.

The new Green Revolution often feels very dogmatic at the very hands of those that stand to benefit financially.

“For me it boils down to common sense and remembering the values you are raised with. As Where The Light Gets In has progressed, our knowledge of farming and food production has grown and so we have been guided by the expansion of this knowledge with one main intention at the core; to have as low a negative impact on our environment as possible as a business.”

This means a considered approach to all of our decision-making regarding inputs. Sourcing produce from localised market gardens, working with day boat fisheries, as well as taking care in choosing who looks after our pensions. A holistic approach to the everyday operation is really important.

 

Q: What connections do you see between the choices made in professional kitchens and broader food system sustainability?

A: Professional kitchens have certainly become more concerned by the environmental issues surrounding our choices. Many are acting responsibly and championing producers who are in line with a conscious effort to make food systems greener and more equitable for everyone involved.

“There are more initiatives and incentives now, that focus on rewarding sustainable practice in hospitality. These schemes come from the marketing departments of larger companies eager to jump on the ‘green bandwagon’, but they do highlight a greener path to restaurants both wishing to do their bit and to stay relevant.”

 

Q: Our event explores how food might become a force for good. Can you share examples from your work where food has created positive change?

A: Every night we make a connection with at least one table over a story about a farmer or a certain process we utilise. It is satisfying to realise that around any table a good food story is likely to make an impact. So, I would say the ability and privilege to share food each night affects the greatest positive change.

We also run a kitchen garden that is open as a community garden called The Landing. The Landing is a charity that works in the community to highlight positive food systems. One of our projects is led in primary schools and teaches children the journey of grain to loaf. It culminates in our bakery where we pick up the loaves to be baked.

“Being able to teach at this level is incredibly impactful not just on the children but the teachers and the members of the team delivering the course. It is also of note that through food the whole syllabus can be reached, from History, Geography and RE through to Maths, English and Science.”

 

Q: Dr. Lesley Mitchell will be discussing regenerative farming in her talk. How has your relationship with farmers and food producers influenced your cooking philosophy?

A: As our relationships have developed over time, the farmers and food producers we work with have influenced our cooking. We can see the difficulties in farming, rearing or fishing in a natural system – that is to say one without chemicals, pesticides, mass feedlots or deep-sea trawlers.

“We operate on a ‘work with what you’ve got’ policy whereby the farmer or producer leads the conversation. So, rather than demand a certain size of radish or apples in June, we will take what the farmer can provide.”

Often a crop may fail due to weather conditions or other unforeseeable factors. If the seas are rough, the small boats we work with cannot leave the harbour. In these cases, it is important to be adaptable and resourceful. We have come to call this philosophy Responsive Cooking.

By responding pragmatically and with an understanding of the rigours of food production, it’s true that we limit our choices; but this approach boosts creativity. We rely more on our skill as cooks and our resourcefulness as crafts people to create.

 

Q: Many people feel overwhelmed by conflicting food advice. What simple principles guide your personal food choices?

A: It is not easy to live with food now. The different messages we receive as consumers can make us feel overwhelmed and we are coerced by guilt to make the right choice though it is not ever clear what the right choice is.

As a dad I am often in conflict over what to provide for my daughter. I really try to stay out of supermarkets where possible, so I know I am buying whole foods and avoiding UPF (ultra-processed foods) with opaque origins.

We only eat meat once or twice a week, though I am not too strict with this as a good chicken broth on the side, made from a carcass over the weekend, is an useful ally. I try my best not to waste food and to get the most from any one ingredient. We are all juggling so much these days and it is tricky enough without the feeling of guilt. If I can be more playful around food and accept that I will not always get it right at home, then it is easier to approach in the first place.

 

Q: How do you balance making ethical food that’s also accessible and affordable?

A: Making food choices at home ethical, affordable and accessible seems to me the most difficult conundrum within the modern family dilemma.

It is not surprising though that this balance is difficult as we have never been given the tools necessary. To make food accessible and affordable one must have the tools, the knowledge and the confidence. These tools and this knowledge are not available at school. There is nothing in the curriculum to develop the knowledge.

What’s more with the necessity of both parents in two parent families needing to work to keep on top of staggering living costs, we have lost a role model at home. In my opinion the role of a parent at home is a full-time job and one that is incredibly important. It is at home where we learn to manage a food budget and to cook meals that are both healthy and appealing.

I am fortunate because my craft has given me the skills that I can transfer into a home environment, but I still find it incredibly difficult. I try to keep things as simple as possible and I try to not give myself a hard time when it goes wrong.

“Giving myself more time around preparation of food – a realistic amount of time – and making the preparation and planning a family activity can help. Conversations around tomorrow night’s meal during tonight’s meal help to make us a food obsessed and informed family!”

We try to grow a little food at home, and although this often ends with stunted parsnips or broccoli that the slugs enjoy more, it does get us closer to food. My family can understand food a little more just through these attempts. And hopefully it can be quite fun too.

 

Q: What role do you think chefs and restaurants play in creating a ‘good food future’?

A: Chefs and restaurant can influence through setting trends. In recent years chefs have enjoyed a stage to express their craft. Platforms like Instagram have made food and cooking sexy. It’s also never been so easy to access ideas and recipes, so really using these mediums to communicate positive choices could play a big part.

 

Q: What food innovations are you most excited about, and which ones concern you?

A: I am most excited by urban growing, greening spaces and utilising public space to learn about growing food. And what scares me the most? Lab meat.

 

Thank you to Sam Buckley from Where The Light Gets In for taking the time to answer our questions.

Our event – How Can We Create a Good Food Future – takes place in Manchester on Monday 12 May.

Cecile Elstein (1938-2025)

Posted on: March 19th, 2025 by mlpEditor

Cecile Elstein (née Hoberman) died suddenly on 2 March 2025. She was born in Cape Town, South Africa and moved to England in 1961 to avoid apartheid, with her husband Max (Emeritus Professor of Obstetrics and Gynaecology, University of Manchester). In the 1960s, they lived in London and then Southampton until 1977 before moving to Manchester. Cecile and Max joined the Lit and Phil in 1994 and Max is a former vice-president.

Cecile was a prolific Sculptor, Printmaker and Environmental Artist. The studio pupil of Surrealist artist Catherine Yarrow, Cecile’s approach to life and her art practice was influenced by philosopher Martin Buber’s ‘I and Thou’ and Albert Camus’s ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’. Cecile worked for several decades with the Master Printmaker – Kip Gresham originally at Manchester Print Workshop (1980s) to his Cambridge Workshop (2019).

Artworks are held and exhibited in public and private collections globally, nationally and locally including Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester; Manchester Cathedral; Alsager Gallery, Crewe; Pitcairn Gallery, Knutsford; Prize winner at 9th British International Print Biennale, Bradford; Singapore Festival of Arts, representing Britain; Manchester Academy of Fine Art; The Portico Library and Gallery, Manchester; Dukes Gallery, Castlefield, Stockport Art Gallery and in 2023 at Salford University Gallery.

Local public artworks include ‘Nir Tamid’, Everlasting Light in Menorah Synagogue in Gatley, bronze portrait of Michael Kennedy, writer and music critic at the Royal Northern College of Music and a sundial in Marie Louise Gardens, Didsbury (with Tam Giles). During 2001- 2021, Cecile, together with textile artist Margaret Crowther, facilitated Didsbury Drawing, a weekly life-drawing group based on the philosophy of non-interference.

Cecile will be greatly missed by her many friends and remembered for her originality and the strength of her opinions, for her enthusiasm, her wide interests and above all for her kindness and empathy. She was predeceased by son Paul in 1998 and will be missed by Max, their daughter Maureen, 3 grandchildren, 3 step grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren.

 

Dr Paul Miller, 19 March 2025

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