Of Moons and Mould.

On this day in 1966, the Soviet Union sent space probe Luna 9 to the moon which sent back photographs confirming that the surface of the moon was firm, not dusty and that in fact the rocky terrain resembled chocolate-hued volcanic rock. How thrilling...


We have previously despaired over the Orcadian newspaper's determined disinterest in man's first forays into outer space and a brief check of the papers which followed this momentous day for science confirmed this stance.


There was a moon-themed article (see below). 'Ah-ha', I thought, 'this must be it.' But no. It was instead an amateur photography article about taking photos in the moonlight. The author exhorts his readers to photograph their family while they sleep. 'There's no need for the sleeper to know you've even been...'

Orcadian 7th February 1966

We are extremely thorough in the Orkney Archive and so I checked the next week's paper just in case their staff had been so completely overwhelmed by Luna 9's voyage they found themselves unable to write about it for over a week. Nothing. They did find time to include this piece about some slime on a fence post though.

Orcadian 17th February 1966

The Wind Beneath Our Wings... Again.

You can't live in Orkney and then complain about bad weather. (Except we do. Constantly.) On days like these it's better just to give in to it. It's not blowing a gale, It's just Orkney 'singing':

Click to enlarge

Poem taken from a 1948 edition of The Orcadian. (16th December 1948).

Orkney Archive Advent Calender - Christmas Spice

Look at this advert for all sorts of delicious sounding festive foods we found in an early year of The Orcadian... Figs, Citrus fruits, Jordan and Valencia almonds, Cloves, Nutmeg, Cassia buds and, most exotic and enticing of all; macaroni and tapioca...


Fancy goods were available too! Propriety alone prevents us from asking how on earth 'sperm candles' were produced. We would Google it but the Library & Archive firewall would probably explode.

French Knittin' In the USA, French Knittin' in the USA-hey!

Last week the archive staff had one of our legendary nights out. We chugged cups of tea, slammed  some veggie burgers and nailed a bunch of  homebakes before staggering home way, way, way, past nine o'clock. Say, tennish?


We talked shop, we talked Bake Off, we set the world of carrot cakes to rights (walnuts or no? Discuss...) until, as it invariably does when one is 'partying hard', the conversation ended up at the topic of French knitting.


It turned out every one of us had spent vast swathes of our youth bent over a wooden doll with a tube through her middle and four pins in her head, tongues firmly between our teeth as we 'knitted' great big worms of wool which protruded from the dolly's nether regions and coiled down to the floor. For what and for why we asked ourselves? What was the purpose of this bizarre pursuit? Who needs boxes of woollen worms and what could anyone ever do with such things?


The Orcadian (as usual) came to the rescue:

Taken from a 1926 copy of the Orcadian. Ten years of looking through these things and the casual use of a word like 'cripple' is still really jarring.

The next week's issue offered readers the opportunity to make a fabric version of a cat who's just remembered that he's not done something really, really important:

A Pinch and a Punch, 'Tis a Rubbish Month

When trying to sum up how we felt about being back at work today after all of our festivities, all we could muster was a collective 'bleeergh'. Oh January, you are tough.

We'll leave it to George Mackay Brown to describe this month in this excerpt from a 1972 column for the Orcadian:

 

January

 

 

 

January is the month when for a morning or two you expect to wake up with a dry mouth at least.

 

 

January is the month when you observe, sadly, six of your seven good resolutions blow away on the cold wind.

 

 

January is the month you dismantle-on a precise date, the sixth - the Christmas tree and give all those expensive Christmas cards to the children to scrawl on with their crayons.

 

 

January is the month when bills seem to seep through your letter box with pitiless monotony. The man who was as rich as Rockefeller on Christmas Eve is poor now as a church mouse.

 

 

January is the month when you wait for the worst of the winter to fall, sleet and hail and snow out of the north-east. You kind of exist between an iron earth and a leaden sky.

 

 

...

 

 

January is the month when the full moon is most glorious of all (although I think the stars have it, for December).

 

 

There is no month of the year quite like January. What is better than a walk along the west shore in that cold, silver air?

 

 

George Mackay Brown

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the entry can be found in Letters From Hamnavoe, columns written for The Orcadian  between 1971 and 1975.

 

 

 

 



Imagine an advert like this appearing today...

Taken from The Orcadian dated 17th January 1874.

Quiz Answers

Answers to the bird quiz taken from the Orcadian dated 3rd April 1975. As you can see, 48 bird names were concealed within the letter. How many did you manage?

Weirdest Old Advert EVER.

What has this picture got to do with photography????!!!!

(Orcadian Newspaper 1936)

LOOK. It Is An Orcadian Newspaper CAKE.

Little did we know when this customer first enquired about copies from a 1953 Orcadian that a newspaper CAKE was planned.

A cake that you can read. I mean, honestly, does it get any better than that?

All Aboard The Marge Barge...

Yeah, 1940s woman! If there's anything that really enrages me it is unfounded prejudice against spreads. I overheard my friend's grandmother disparaging Olivio once and I punched her in the face.

All adverts taken from 1939 editions of The Orcadian.

At Least It's Neat...

I was shocked to see the casual and seemingly extraneous use of a swastika in an ad for the Orcadian printing office, especially in 1939. "Maybe people were not too bothered by it before the Second World War started", I mused.

Wrong...

Those pesky type-setting machines, getting all 'creative' and embarrassing their human overlords!

Bovril Is Liquid. Cocoa is Liquid. Both are Brown.

One cannot help but feel that the advertisers of these hot drinks have gotten a little over excited...

All adverts taken from 1909 editions of The Orcadian

'Be A Womanly Woman Under All Circumstances.'

Today, in 1920, the 19th amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified, guaranteeing suffrage for women, hoorah!

6 years later, on the 18th of August 1926, an announcement appeared in the Orkney Herald for  the release of 'Women: An Inquiry', an essay exploring gender differences by Willa Muir, wife of  Orcadian poet Edwin Muir. Hoorah!

Willa Muir in 1967 - negative no. L818/2

On the 18th of August 2012, the archive staff found this terrifying piece in the 1905 Orcadian entitled '2s Every Girl Should Learn'

Thank goodness the female archive staff were not living in 1905, for we can admit to very few of these attributes. We do respect old age, (as an archive we revere it), and we sweep away some of the cobwebs and we of course read only the best of books (Does Games of Thrones count?) and steer away from trashy literature (Does Game of Thrones count?)

But we are not taking active exercise for anyone.

Sound familiar?

All of these snippets are taken from editions of The Orcadian dated January 1978. So far, so familiar, but things were about to get worse...

Nearly all of the West Mainland and Island schools seem to have been closed for an extended period, roads in Orphir were completely blocked and impassable, the water went off in Stromness, Evie, Rendall, Sandwick and Orphir and there were milk shortages due to farmers being without water, electricity and transport. Milk was being dumped at some farms.

Mr Alastair Whyte, manager of the Kirkwall Claymore milk factory said: " I have never known so much chaos in my time."

Worst of all, there was no telly for a significant proportion of the population! The Radio was working, however, and Radio Orkney was on air for three hours one night keeping the population up to date with developments and boosting morale with music and phone-ins.

The worst Orkney power cut story I have ever heard was recounted in the staff room one day. It must have been around about 1983 when the power cut out across most of the mainland. I know this, because this is when the fabulous guilty pleasure of a mini-series The Thorn Birds was shown. The power cut happened IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LAST EPISODE.

In these new-fangled days of iplayer, youtube and dvd box sets, this would be, at worst, a minor irritant but in the early 1980s such an event was truly desperate. Fans of the charming yet ambitious Father Ralph de Bricassart  were reduced to roaming the streets, tearing their hair out and shouting "Does anyone have power? Will Ralph ever find out that Dane is his illegitimate son?!!"

Some people still tear up when it is mentioned and it is fun to prank call Orkney numbers and whisper "her dress was ashes of roses..." until the recipient of the call dissolves into confused and helpless sobs.

Happy Birthday Orcadian!

The featured archive for today is the supplement to the 125th anniversary edition of The Orcadian. It appeared on the 15th of November 1979.

The Orcadian newspaper was actually first published on the 14th of November 1854 by James Urqurt Anderson. The Orcadian firm was already in existence as a bookbinding and printing service.

The supplement looks over the advent of North Sea oil and its effects on the island, the demonstrations against Uranium mining and the concerns of population drift. The most depressing section, however is entitled 'cost of living'.

Here, the author complains that whereas a first class stamp had been but tuppence ha'penny when the centenary edition was published in 1954, it now cost TEN PENCE to send a letter. It is further pointed out while a bottle of whisky had been about 20 shillings, a consumer was now set back by around £5. Further more 'A good, sound stone-built two-storey house in Kirkwall with garage, greenhouse, storage space and a biggish garden could have been had for a little over £3000 in the early fifties. The price today is much more likely to be in the £40,000 bracket.' Good lord.

You Basic Slaaaaag!

Vintage readers of this blog shall already know how much this 1940s ad campaign freaked us out. On this day in 1953 the company took things further with the creepy Wright's Biscuits child emerging from a television screen like that girl in The Ring whilst muttering " I'm Nuts. Ginger Nuts."

It would surely be more effective if the slogan was " I'm nuts, for ginger nuts".

I can only speak for myself, but a picture of a leering child proclaiming their mental illness does not make me in the least bit peckish.

*******

The next time I feel the need to give a person a piece of my mind, the first insult which rolls off my tongue shall be inspired by this simple advert.

Adverts taken from The Orcadian dated 20th October 1953.

Just When You Thought That Bran Based Cereal Couldn't Get More Depressing.....

Hi, my name's Henry. When a leading food manufacturer asked me to appear in a nationwide newspaper advertising campaign in 1955, I was thrilled. I mean, who wouldn't be? Look at the men pictured above; they look great! Straddling pylons, pointing at us while puffing on pipes, giving cheery, masculine waves in their well-cut suits... "Sign me up!", I cried, "I can't wait to look suave! I'm going to phone my mum!"

Here is my ad:

When I first saw it, I was a little disappointed. I thought that the whole constipation thing was embarrassing and I was troubled by what seemed to me to be a sad, empty desperate void behind my eager-to-please eyes.

My mum told me that I'm being silly, however, and that I look just as smart as all those other guys. She's sent copies of the advert to all our friends and family and, when they laugh hysterically, Mum just tells me that they're jealous.

Thanks Mum!

All adverts taken from September 1955 editions of The Orcadian.

A Gross Little Poem To Put You Off Your Tea

Taken from a 1906 edition of The Orcadian.

Wishing I Lived in 1884...

Whilst looking through 1884 papers for Australian emigration adverts, I found these delights:

Why are scientists spending cancer research money on wasteful laboratory work? They should just travel back in time to 1884 and pick up some Clarke's Blood Mixture.

Some subliminal advertising, cunningly hidden in the midst of news. Excuse me, I've got a powerful craving for some Hops Bitters....

The poshest, most thrilling column of news ever: pirates, duels and dukes!

Some useful fashion and beauty tips for lovely ladies...

Information taken from Orkney Heralds dated 9th, 23rd and 30th of January and an Orcadian dated the 19th of January 1884.

Oh 1938 Ad-men, What Were You Thinking?

First of all, whoever is letting that baby hold a steaming tea cup of Oxo needs a visit from Social Services yesterday.

Secondly, Oxo with milk is not 'especially good', it is 'almost unfeasably rank.'

The End.