Grave Goods – Jennifer Lucy Allan.
Grave Goods: Jennifer Lucy Allan
Jennifer Lucy Allan is a writer, journalist and broadcaster with a PhD in foghorns. Her first book, The Foghorn’s Lament: The Disappearing Music of The Coast is out now on White Rabbit Books. She has been a journalist for over a decade, writing largely on underground and experimental music for publications including The Guardian, The Quietus, and The Wire, and was previously The Wire’s Online Editor. She is a presenter on BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction, and co-wrote and presented Life, Death and the Foghorn for BBC Radio 4. She also co-runs Interior Motive, and the record labels Arc Light Editions and Good Energy.
Tools of the Trade – a tool/implement without which you’d be lost, whether it’s a pen, trowel, notepad, bottle-opener or scanning electron microscope.
My beloved crowbar. I bought myself a crowbar when I was living alone and renovating a flat mostly single-handed. They are perfect objects, blunt but precisely designed, murderous and shapely, reassuringly versatile. Mine is scuffed, gorgeous and an essential tool. It probably holds more symbolism for me than it should, to do with breaking things down, being self-sufficient and independent. It helped me build a deck in Glasgow, destroy failed attempts at pottery, break up pallets, lift floorboards, and prise open things that are closed. It’ll be useful if I find myself in the hot place.
Food for the Journey – a favourite portable snack, or a portion of something from your funeral feast.
A pint of session bitter and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps
I considered bringing the perfumed flesh of a fig, I considered a single malt with worlds of saline, sherry and peat; I considered choosing the flush of pleasure an oyster brings, but never a time I don’t fancy a lovely brown beer and the acid tang of salt and vinegar crisps.
Memento Vivere – a memento of a companion/event to bring you cheer (can be an image).
A drawing
I havea perfect replica in chalk and charcoal of a particularly beautiful Robert Mapplethorpe image that was given as a Valentine’s by the person I love most. Desire is an exaltation of mortality.
Ex Libris – the book or text you are least likely to tire of reading.
Anne Carson – If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho
Thisis not just a book but also score, for the music I would make and for the songs I would sing. It is about love and lust for men and women, for human passions and the movements of living creatures. There are so few words in it, and yet I will never bore of the rhythms of its part-salvaged verses. Its sonorous phrases follow me, as echoes of feeling in the world that I want to carry beyond this life. My copy is fringed with tabs, each of which holds a memory.
Lucky Deposition – a bonus selection chosen by the guest – can include transport.
A mark maker
I chose a crowbar as my tool, but for all its usefulness it’s not great to write with. So I’d have to also bring some sort of mark maker, whether it’s a twig or one of those astronaut pens that work in zero G – I don’t care, I’ll just need to write.
A Message from Beyond the Grave – an entirely discretionary option – leave a note for a future generation to find.
Live well.