The first piece of information that shocked me was received when walking up Giant Tree Hill (the real name of the road) with my mother Meg. I was very young, I'm not sure how young, but young enough not to know about death. And it was at this moment that I decided to ask my mum what death was, no doubt in response to something that she had said. She explained that people go to the sky. I asked 'And then they come back?' because anything else was inconceivable but, it turned out to my surprise, they never came back. Never, ever. At first I thought she was joking, the thought made me feel sick and, all of a sudden, life was no longer the exceptionally pleasant thing that it had been.
I was then shocked a couple of years later to learn that plants think, at least that was the claim made on a Radio 4 program to which my mother was listening. This news bothered me, the implications were astounding and I thought of all those poor plants which I myself had murdered but my mother reassured me and told me that it probably wasn't true. My mum always had Radio 4 tuned in, and still does.
Shortly afterwards I was swinging on a garden swing in the summer sunshine and I contemplated the infinity of space. I had never considered it before but I found it very amusing to try to picture infinity. I clearly remember staring at a white fence and laughing to myself.
I must have been seven when I learned my third shocking fact because, by this time, we were no longer living in Stanmore, on the outskirts of North London, but in a Royal Air Force base by the village of Wyton near Huntingdon (we'd move away a couple of years later to Bracknell near Reading and then, when I was thirteen, we'd move, by coincidence, back to Huntingdon again.)
In Wyton the RAF gave us quite a grand house. I remember standing beside my mother in the cool of the pantry looking at a tin decorated with reproductions of the biscuits which had once been found inside. Each biscuit had a different naïve design adorned on it with colourful icing. I loved that biscuit tin.
My mother was berating drug addicts so I had to find out what drugs were. She explained, as best she could, all about hallucinations and I was terrified. To not only see something imagined, usually dragons my mother said, but to believe it to be real was almost beyond comprehension. And to think that people chose to put themselves through this terror!
Around the same time I listened to a radio play in the living room. I turned on the radio to find, surprise, surprise, Radio 4 and a story seemed to have just started so I sat on the carpet with my legs crossed and paid attention. It was about a man and a woman who were taken from their homes and tricked into being killed with poisonous gas when they thought that they were having a shower. The man seemed to know what was happening but reassured his true love that everything would be just fine forever. It was very sad and made me cry. My parents later told me that it was based on a true story and that this death had befallen a vast number of people. I felt dismayed. In fact, ever since, I have never felt so dismayed.
When I was ten I read a book about slaughter. I had also just been on a family holiday which my brother did not participate in leaving me to listen to his 'Meat Is Murder' cassette on my Walkman in the back seat of the car all the way to The Black Forest. Until then I believed that farm animals led pleasant lives and painless deaths. I announced my intention to become a vegetarian but I only lasted a couple of days. My mother complained, laughing at me, and my father beat me down with his more mature, if flawed, logic and it was not until I was nineteen that I became a vegetarian for real.
When I was twelve I learned late one night, on the little portable black and white TV set in my bedroom, that grown men trick young children into having sex with them and I was confused. I felt very sorry for the children too. The show went on to discuss whether or not these men could help themselves.
I think that those are all the things which shocked me when I was little and I haven't found anything shocking since.
I was then shocked a couple of years later to learn that plants think, at least that was the claim made on a Radio 4 program to which my mother was listening. This news bothered me, the implications were astounding and I thought of all those poor plants which I myself had murdered but my mother reassured me and told me that it probably wasn't true. My mum always had Radio 4 tuned in, and still does.
Shortly afterwards I was swinging on a garden swing in the summer sunshine and I contemplated the infinity of space. I had never considered it before but I found it very amusing to try to picture infinity. I clearly remember staring at a white fence and laughing to myself.
I must have been seven when I learned my third shocking fact because, by this time, we were no longer living in Stanmore, on the outskirts of North London, but in a Royal Air Force base by the village of Wyton near Huntingdon (we'd move away a couple of years later to Bracknell near Reading and then, when I was thirteen, we'd move, by coincidence, back to Huntingdon again.)
In Wyton the RAF gave us quite a grand house. I remember standing beside my mother in the cool of the pantry looking at a tin decorated with reproductions of the biscuits which had once been found inside. Each biscuit had a different naïve design adorned on it with colourful icing. I loved that biscuit tin.
My mother was berating drug addicts so I had to find out what drugs were. She explained, as best she could, all about hallucinations and I was terrified. To not only see something imagined, usually dragons my mother said, but to believe it to be real was almost beyond comprehension. And to think that people chose to put themselves through this terror!
Around the same time I listened to a radio play in the living room. I turned on the radio to find, surprise, surprise, Radio 4 and a story seemed to have just started so I sat on the carpet with my legs crossed and paid attention. It was about a man and a woman who were taken from their homes and tricked into being killed with poisonous gas when they thought that they were having a shower. The man seemed to know what was happening but reassured his true love that everything would be just fine forever. It was very sad and made me cry. My parents later told me that it was based on a true story and that this death had befallen a vast number of people. I felt dismayed. In fact, ever since, I have never felt so dismayed.
When I was ten I read a book about slaughter. I had also just been on a family holiday which my brother did not participate in leaving me to listen to his 'Meat Is Murder' cassette on my Walkman in the back seat of the car all the way to The Black Forest. Until then I believed that farm animals led pleasant lives and painless deaths. I announced my intention to become a vegetarian but I only lasted a couple of days. My mother complained, laughing at me, and my father beat me down with his more mature, if flawed, logic and it was not until I was nineteen that I became a vegetarian for real.
When I was twelve I learned late one night, on the little portable black and white TV set in my bedroom, that grown men trick young children into having sex with them and I was confused. I felt very sorry for the children too. The show went on to discuss whether or not these men could help themselves.
I think that those are all the things which shocked me when I was little and I haven't found anything shocking since.
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