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INKYTEXT 348 Part I
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YET ANOTHER BUMPER TWO-PART ISSUE
Issue No 348 Wednesday 12th April 2000
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Editorial correspondence should be sent to InkyText@lancaster.ac.uk
Subscription requests to Inkytext-distribution-request@lists.lancs.ac.uk
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AGENDA
PART I
Minutes and Matters Arising
1. Editorial: Prices and values, freedom and gratuity.
2. News: Novel, Times League Tables, Concerts Crisis, HE Convention, EPSRC
Announcement, Estates leaving do, Mardis, College Principals, Pay claim.
Incentives to innovate, Social and Residential Facilities, New JIF bids
3. My most unforgettable character (II)
PART II FOLLOWS AND INCLUDES
4. Virtual universities and the E-revolution
5. Alumni in the Media
6. Readers' Letters: Petition, Regrets and thanks, Hetton and Malcolm Gluck.
7. Small Ads: Grizedale Social Secretary; Viennese exchange; Plant
Sale; Garden flat to let; Lift wanted; Two bikes; Accommodation wanted;
Tape transcription, Translation business, Leather topped desk and chair.
MINUTES AND MATTERS ARISING
---------------------------
For 'sumptous' read 'sumptuous'
For 'strached' read 'starched'
Dr Jan Nielsen is styled and titled thus. Apologies.
Professor Evans suggests that a dispersed faculty such as Humanities
would benefit not exactly from hustings but from a get-together where
candidates for the deanship could make their pitch.
In the THES Women Professor's League Table published last week we
figure 75th out of 81 with 7 female to 133 male professors. This places
us in the company of heavy science universities.
1. EDITORIAL: PRICES AND VALUES, FREEDOM AND GRATUITY
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There used to be a view, sometimes expressed by government ministers,
that anything that is free either has no value or is open to abuse. It
is a view repeated these days by some would-be e-commerce providers who
(wrongly) seek to rubbish free websites provided by enthusiasts, arguing
that they have no legal obligations to provide reliable information.
This is of course absurd. Many things that are free are also, and
almost by definition, priceless. This applies most importantly to
freedom itself and the air we breathe. Less so than formerly perhaps:
even clean air is not universal and has its price.
But alas it prolly does not apply to human artefacts, including
websites. If they are free, they also risk being gratuitous. Only if
someone is willing to fund them can one be sure that they satisfy a
genuine need.
No, this journal has not suddenly succumbed to the capitalist
illusion; this seems, though, to be a necessary truth. Does it apply to
university news? Certainly. News is essential in an enquiring and
argumentative community. But it is only provided at a cost.
In the case of this journal that cost has been implicitly borne by the
university, in the form of its network subscription to JANET and in its
tolerance of the Editor. Also by the editor himself in numerous ways.
We are supposed to be entering an era of transparency. It is an apt
time to bring hidden costs to light.
In practice the actual costs are for the most part trivial. The real
question is whether an independent and critical source of news can be
funded by the institution itself. Ah, well... That is the real test of
the confidence and maturity of an institution.
In Lancaster's case the happy news is that, reluctantly in some
quarters, and with bad grace but a sense of the politic in others, it
has in fact been... tolerated for the past seven years. And indeed for
longer in the form of financial support the university provides for
SCAN and its editor or the college magazines, which, perhaps
fortunately, have a highly circumscribed readership.
However the temptation will always be, unless the converse can be
demonstrated, for readers to believe that the editor is in the
management's pocket and indulging in PR if s/he is in the employ of the
university. And a weak management that finds itself criticized or its
policies campaigned against will find it absurd that it should be
expected to fund an organ or a person hostile to the management line
who is rocking the boat.
Anything else requires an editor genuinely devoted to the welfare of
the institution and, on her or his employer's part, a moral stature and
a breadth of understanding that are rarely evident in today's harried
British universities. It should exist of course. All would-be democrats
admit it - especially when they find themselves in opposition. When in
government, of course, they usually have naught but scorn for the
harlot.
Foretelling the future is easy in Europe, as Baudelaire presciently
remarked circa 1860. Th future exists already - in America. Look west
and you see how things will be here within a couple of decades.
So sneak a look at the Brown, Cornell, Princeton, Berkeley, Stanford
or Illinois websites, to name just a few. Each supports not one but
several news sites and periodicals devoted to university and local
affairs. Some are independent but nonetheless linked to the
University's web pages. Many are daily during term-time and exist in
hard copy as well.
Nor is it a matter of size. Colleges smaller than ourselves have them
as well. They provide a constant link with past and present members of
staff as well as students. They recognize that if alumni are going to
be tapped for cash they want to know it's being well used. That
requires editorial independence.
For that to happen in Britain it will first perhaps be necessary for
a change in JANET's policy on advertising. And why not?
2. NEWS
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CONGRATULATIONS TO JUSTIN HILL of the Department of Creative Writing
on the acceptance of his first novel by top London editor Neil Taylor
of Weidenfeld & Nicolson. The novel, set in contemporary China, is
currently being written for the MA in Creative Writing.
THE TIMES LEAGUE TABLES APPEAR THIS WEEK. Lancaster's overall ranking
was 14th last year, 16th in 1998, 12th in 1997. Early indications
suggest we should be there and thereabout again, but may be slipping
slightly. For subjects so far published we are 3rd for Education,
Social Work and Linguistics, 4th for Business Studies, 8th for General
Enginering and Sociology, 14th for Italian and Geography, 17th for
English. Law, Iberian Studies, French and German did not figure in the
top 20.
NB This journal remains supremely sceptical about the validity of the
raw data used and deplores these tables and the attention paid to them.
It reports this news merely as a public service.
CONCERTS CRISIS: Something has to be done, and fast, or there will be
no concerts next year. Not only Prof McCaldin but Stella Birchall and
Prof Bray are also ill. Mystery surrounds the appointments group
requirement that one of Music's two recent posts should be a part-time
impresario. Professor Bray is reported to deny knowing this. (Who
chaired the appointments board and why did they not know and remind the
department of this?)
A group comprising Alan Marsden, Alan Whittaker, Roger Bray, and the
University Secretary is to look into the problem and identify a way
forward. However the Secretary is rumoured to believe Public Arts
spending {should be}{is to be} cut still further....
Meanwhile we recently created The Friends of Lancaster Concerts, whose
aim is to try to raise enough money to replace some of the lost music
provision, e.g. the artists in residence. The whole existence of the
Friends was predicated on the University making no further cuts
(informal assurance on this is reported to have been given verbally by
the VC to Professor MCCaldin early last year). Fund raising activities
are likely be ill-fated by this news. It's a bit like lottery money
being used as a replacement for proper government funding.
On the positive side, the Lancaster Concerts have been quite
extraordinarily successful - e.g. audiences *averaging* over 400, which
is very unusual in this game. Lots of these concert-goers are precisely
the locally wealthy and influential that the University may wish to
target in the new development campaign. The negative PR effect of
letting the series founder is very significant. The Friends' committee
includes some high profile local citizens, e.g. Mrs Suzie Reynolds
(Leighton Hall) and Lady Shuttleworth (current High Sheriff), both of
whom are giving generously of their time and their own resources to (as
they think it) help the University in its time of need.
THE EPSRC HAVE AT LONG LAST ANNOUNCED the funding hinted at here of 5
inter-disciplinary research collaborations. You can see the results at
http://www.epsrc.ac.uk/EPSRCWEB/MAIN/NEWS/01/01.HTM
Our own Computing Department is involved in 2 of these proposals. The
first, worth 10 miilion all told, is Tom Rodden's "Equator: merging the
virtual and the physical worlds". It has Lancaster as the lead partner.
This project is looking at how the experiences gained from using
computer-based technologies can augment and complement our normal
experiences of the physical world. (Tom explains it better). Other
partners are Nottingham, Bristol, Glasgow, Southampton, Royal College
of Art, Sussex.
But congratulations also to Ian Sommerville in the same department,
who is a partner in "DIRC: Interdisciplinary Reseach Collaboration in
System Dependability" where Newcastle is the lead partner. As well as
Lancaster the project also involves York, Edinburgh and the City
Universities. The aim of this project is to investigate how to improve
the dependability (safety, security, reliability, survivability) of
socio-technical systems with a particular emphasis on the social
aspects of these systems.
Prof Sommerville writes: "In both cases, a key component of
Lancaster's success has been the long-standing cooperation between the
Computing Department and the Sociology Dept (John Hughes) where
Lancaster is probably the pre-emininent international institution. The
success of these bids will provide a stable foundation for the
development of this cooperation."
THE LANCASHIRE SCHOOLS HE CONVENTION happened, and brought 3000 or so
sixth-formers onto campus on each of two gloriously blue-skied days.
The weather was fortunate for we had nowhere to feed them so they sat
on the steps and queued outside Birketts. Impressive queues at
Lancaster's own stand, where our colour-coded cards, one for each
major course scheme, were an outstanding success and the envy of
others.
Winners in the OTT glamour stakes for inspiring photo-montages were
places one has scarcely heard of... rather a lot of them. Clear winner
was the eye-catching landscape of Newton Rigg, a Cumbrian outpost of
Central Lancs that seems to be involved in sundry outdoor pursuits.
THE EMPLOYERS' (UCEA) RESPONSE TO THE AUT PAY-CLAIM for academic and
related staff in pre-1992 universities is expected today, Wednesday
12th April. Some 30% catching up and a removal of gender inequalities
is being sought. Employers obviously are not going to say they can
afford much at all in advance of the comprehensive spending review.
A CRYPTIC ONE-LINER in the UMAG minutes for 22nd March reads "The
Director of Resources reported on falling sales by Mardis and action
proposed." Sorry to have lost sight of Mardis since Ken Pennington
left. It seems to have fallen on hard times. Is anyone to blame?
Perhaps not. It is clear that Mardis has always worked in a difficult
niche market, where potential clients rarely have vast amounts of money
to spend. It also has competitors.
Prof Abercrombie took over as chair and Dr Nielsen, with excellent
credentials in electronics and business, was called in as consultant to
advise. He subsequently became part-time manager. By that time only two
technical staff remained and they soon left to set up their own rival
business. Mardis is now left with Dr Nielsen and two clerical employees
who market the product, demonstrate it and provide user advice. The kit
is no longer manufactured in house, and research and development on
updated products seems to have lapsed.
The Audit Commitee minutes for 14 September 1998 state "In answer to a
question about Mardis, the Director of Finance indicated that the
future of the company was still under consideration. The new product
had been launched in January 1998 into an inevitably fickle market and
if the sales targets were achieved, the company would break even on the
year. The staffing had been reduced by the equivalent of two full-time
staff and although consideration of whether the activity was
appropriate for the university [SIC], the product was attractive, while
closure of the company could cause significant adverse publicity, and
any exit route should be carefully planned. Provision in the year-end
accounts for the potential warranty connected with the product would be
discussed with the external auditor."
A Finance Committee minute for November 1998 states: "The statement
that Mardis Limited had no employees other than its directors was noted
to need revision and updating. The Director of Finance indicated that
the university wished to find an appropriate exit route for the
business, but in the meanwhile the company was predicted to break even
during 1998-99."
This will be regretted by Professor Shepherd and other supporters of
the university's important contributions to the disabled.
SIX LECTURESHIPS IN IENS: The ad reads: "Lancaster University wishes
to appoint up to six lectureships in its Institute of Environmental and
Natural Sciences. The appointees, who will have strong chemical
backgrounds, will have research interests at the interfaces between
chemistry and the biological and environmental sciences, probably in
the following or related areas:- Toxicology, Oxidative stress,
Ecotoxicology, Immunology, Electrophysiology, Environmental chemistry
in relation to human health.' Actually 4 lectureships were approved
with another 2 posts to be justified by an acceptable business plan.
But "Trust Uncle Raymond".
DIRECTOR OF ESTATES LEAVING BASH: Ernest Phillips is retiring at the
end of April and to commemorate his many years here there will be an
'informal' gathering in Lonsdale Bar on Friday 28 April from 4.00 p.m.
onwards. There is also a collection and card held in B10 University
House (see Emma Burrow) for those who wish to put pen to paper or make
a donation.
INCENTIVES TO INNOVATE: Some APC members were concerned that staff in
departments are not aware of incentives to innovate and believe they
are being asked to carry out a lot of extra work merely to stand still.
Mr McGregor stressed that new money-making activity is required to help
fund existing activity but incentive schemes had been presented in the
current years budget setting process. It was agreed that this
information needs to be more widely disseminated in a form readily
accessible to staff.
Mr E McGregor to draft a summary of departmental incentives and
distribute it to the Deans & Associate Deans.
NEW JIF BIDS: The APC approvals group will meet tomorrow (13th April)
to consider the following bids for submission:
a) JIF Social Science SMART centre (building & equipment)
b) JIF Psychology Cognition Research (building & equipment)
c) JIF Geography (equipment joint with E Anglia & Cambridge
RESIDENCES AND SOCIAL FACILITIES: Big discussion at UMAG last week
about future strategy and the plans unveiled. Alan Whitaker had
misgivings. Mr McGregor stressed that these were only one set of
options and others would be considered, but an overall strategy was
needed so that urgent short-term building projects didn't contradict
what was needed in the longer term.
THREE COLLEGE PRINCIPALSHIPS come up for renewal this summer: County,
Fylde and Graduate. In the case of the latter two, the principals, Alan
Thompson and Chris Park respectively, have completed two 5-year terms.
Under the dispositions agreed with Provost Kirby they are not eligible
for a further term. However given the difficulty of finding suitable
persons it is not clear that this provision will necessarily be
applied.
INSUFFICIENT ATTENTION HAS BEEN GIVEN to the increasingly important role
non-academic services, including the Students Union, will play in
recruitment. So decided the APC at its last meeting.
3. MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE CHARACTER (II)
---------------------------------------
Room 3. The hyperbolic gossip of our elders that morning had already
primed us for the presence of a legend. In came a middle-aged man of
medium height, squarely built. Silently. We'd already heard about his
perennial "beetle-crusher" shoes. A handsome enough man in a crumpled
suit who threw his black gown off as soon as he came through the door.
Black curly hair, starting to grey at the ends, with a stray loop
falling over the brow that he sometimes threw back with a toss of the
head or a backwards flick.
He planted himself before us and looked round, placing the flat of his
hands together, fingers splayed, chest high. We fell silent. You knew
this was someone who would never have discipline problems; he'd never
even need to raise his voice. He spoke more quickly than other
teachers, pausing only self-consciously, in the strangest places, for
dramatic effect.
"My name is Hector MacIvor. 'Hector' like the son of Priam, and
MacIvor spelt with an 'o', pronounced 'MacEEEvOr'. Don't forget that.
Amongst yourselves you will probably call me Hector. Most people in the
world do." He gave a half- smile and a shrug. Did he think that a joke,
we wondered, or was he really so vain? "Here however you will call me
'Sir'."
The voice was unusual for Edinburgh, strangely unimpressive were it
not for the words. A peaty voice, a deep, dark, soft voice with the
breathy quality of a West Highland Gaelic speaker. A Hebridean voice. A
sing-song voice that might have seemed effeminate in someone less
manifestly male. A 'malt whisky' voice someone would joke when the
period had ended, for we knew he had the reputation of being a
lunchtime boozer at Darling's Hotel down by Princes Street. Now and
then he punctuated his words with slight theatrical gestures. Just
flicks of the fingers and wrist, no more; elbows close in at the sides.
He always continued immediately. Brought out his most startling claims
dismissively and without interrupting his flow, as though they were
simply self-evident. Only when he wished to impress upon us that what
he'd said was of eternal importance and gravity would he ever pause and
look round.
As now. He then continued. "I am your teacher of Literature and
Rhetoric. That means of Life." You could hear the capital letters in
his voice. "Literature is simply story-telling, but very important
that is. Stories, be they spoken or written, are the record of things
that mattered to those who went before. Thanks to stories, we are the
dwarves who ride on giants' shoulders and see farther than they. Nor do
I merely refer to novels. All writings are stories, be they Court of
Session Reports or the ballads of Scotland or the plays of William
Shakespeare.
I am also your teacher of Rhetoric, as it has always been called in
the schools and universities of our land. Who will tell me what
"Rhetoric" is?"
Odd hands went hesitantly up and someone attempted an answer. "Mmm,
ye-es", Hector had replied, but sceptically it seemed. "Except that you
are quite wrong. Most people usually are." He spoke that last phrase
matter-of-factly, without condescension; the monstrous egotism seemed
to strike us more than him. Wasn't he joking? Did he mean most were
wrong about this, or about everything?
"Rhetoric" he continued, "has nothing to do with 'fine' writing or
pretentiousness or showing off all the rare words you know. Nor with
political speechifying, though there it may help. Rhetoric is simply
marrying your words perfectly to your meaning so that your audience
will be persuaded by what you say and never misunderstand. If it's
worth listening to they'll never forget. Pretending to be clever
usually has the opposite effect. If you have a choice between a
three-letter Anglo-saxon word and a seven-syllable Greek synonym then
you must always use the former."
Some of the class were stirring at the back and exchanged looks. This
waffle wasn't what you were supposed to be doing in your first English
lesson at the big school. How much had he had to drink this lunchtime?
Could you smell it on his breath? When was he going to teach them some
English?
As if on cue the voice went on. "I am not therefore going to 'teach'
you English, whatever that may mean. Not today, not ever. You must have
learned to parse sentences well enough by now or you wouldn't be here.
The rest you'll get in French or Latin, or else you can learn it for
yourselves. For me, however, you will read, you will write and you will
recite.
First and foremost you will write to me when you travel, even if only
postcards. My address is Hector MacIvor, Isle of Lewis. Even when I'm
away elsewhere - as now. Not something you'll ever need to write down
to remember. Should you find yourselves in very benighted parts of the
world you may need to add 'Scotland', but on the Isle of Lewis they all
know the MacIvors and...", with the faintest of chuckles but still no
apparent awareness of vanity, "...all the MacIvors know Hector".
"At your age you naively imagine that Lewis is in the back of beyond.
You are mistaken again. One is far closer to the heart of the universe
on the singing sands of Lewis and by the standing stones of Callinsh
than one could ever be in the City of London."
"You will also write for me what some people call 'essays' or
'compositions'." A touch of irony in his voice at those words. "Usually
I shall ask you to exercise your imaginations. I prefer to consider it
as literature practice, a bit like piano-playing."
He paused again. Something important was coming. "Others have probably
already told you are now men." They were only twelve and mostly
pre-pubescent. Some sniggers from the precocious few who could play
beneath the desk with their newly discovered testicles and display them
in the changing room. "That means that henceforth you will abandon
childish literature. Not only abandon reading it but also stop writing
it. No more Enid Blyton, no more Biggles, no more William. Not even
William Bunter."
That got a few sympathetic chuckles. Mention of Enid Blyton had also
brought forth a bit of derisive cackling, uneasy in some cases. An
expression of collective agreement that we were certainly way beyond
girly stuff like that. Except that lots of us prolly weren't for these
were the days before every home had TV or video. Some of us hadn't even
a record-player. Long live public libraries.
Hector had looked round the faces again, then raised his right forearm
from the elbow, slowly, extending his forefinger and using it to rap
gently home his words. "More importantly, it also means that from this
day henceforward you will eschew in your writing all those childish
topics you have hitherto thought manly and exciting. Wrongly!"
Then a dry aside: "you may even learn what the word 'eschew' means."
Some of the class began to murmur and look at one another. He really
did sound a piss-artist. Probably a poof as well. Somebody had said
he'd never been married. And Big Bill Beattie was supposed to be one of
those he went out to lunch with. Weh..ehell... that was prrrrretty
conclusive proof. Even on this first day everyone had heard the rugby
lads gossip about Beattie and the nude swimming sessions. Hadn't there
even been some oblique reference to such rumours in the paper? Those
ones now switched off. But some of us were hypnotised. And knew even
then it was untrue.
"I refer to all manner of cowboys and Indians, to wars, to robbery, to
fighting, to crime, to fast motor cars, to swearing, to money, to
power, to pranks, trickery and deceit. To these and the other trivia
with which schoolboy comics concern themselves. These are not manly or
heroic things. I, who have fought in war and witnessed the rest, can
assure you of that."
"For me, you will instead write about the important things in life. In
life... yes, and in death too, and in worlds beyond. Death and the
hereafter are a big part of all our lives, our own death but once, that
of others many times. Of delight and of sorrow, of joy and of grief, of
fears and of heartbreaks, of anger and compassion, of honour and
betrayal, of justice, of innocence, of friendships and loneliness, of
gladness and of guilt, of the new-born baby and the wrinkled face of
the dead grand-mother. These are the beauties of life, even the sad
ones.
Above all you will never forget love. Love and its expressions, by lip
or by loin...". Whee-wheeow! He broke off as a stage-whispered
wolf-whistle from the rear interrupted his flow and brought a
collective guffaw, along with a release of tension and the shuffling of
seats. Lips and loins! And this was only English! Not even Biology! And
it was still our first day! The look silenced them and regained their
eyes.
"You, of course, have no idea to what I refer. Much of what you read in
adult literature will deal with experiences you may never know for many
years and may not understand even then. And sometimes it is better not
to know them."
"This attitude towards living is often called 'romantic'. That is
correct. Many people will tell you that romanticism is of the past, and
that romantic literature is dead. They speak of it disparagingly. They
think romantics neglect the harsh realities of life. They are wrong.
The great romantics of this century, as of others, have in one way or
another all been fighting men who concerned themselves with their
country and its freedom. W B Yeats the great Irish poet was part of his
country's political battles, and how many poets of war have died in
action. Romanticism betokens an appreciation of the finest things in
this life... and maybe even a dim awareness of things beyond...."
Later, in other classes, that lowering of the voice and mysterious
silence would signal the recounting of a ghostly, pagan vision that
always left you uneasy about just whether it was really fantasy or not;
tales where haunting menace lurked invisibly just beyond the tea-cups
and workaday chatter. Like the unfinished meal in his eerie story of
the vanished lighthouse-keepers on Flannen Isle, events that had
clearly marked Hector for he related them many times.
On this first day, however, the peroration was made for the
circumstance. He looked around them again, his feet still never moving.
He stared into eyes.
"I said you were men. You are not merely men, you are Scotsmen. This
is a great privilege but, as others have no doubt said to you until you
are sick of hearing it, like all privileges it carries the burden of
obligations. The obligation of Scotsmen is to be heroes. Scotland has a
place and importance in the world vastly disproportionate to its size
or population. The river-steamers of Africa would stop without our
engineers, the hospitals of India and the Americas would lack doctors,
fewer vessels would plough the lonely oceans of the globe. In London,
all government would cease."
"Scotsmen travel all over the world, and the world travels to Scotland
for our welcome. You are citizens of the universe. Wherever you may
go, you will arrive preceded by the reputations of your fathers who
went before."
The Rector, a saintly rugby-playing Ulsterman called Dr Imrie, had
tried to say something similar this morning, but that had been a bit
predictable and cliche-ridden. It was the indifferent, unassuming
matter-of-factness that had made these pretentious exhortations more
cogent.
"You live in Scotland's capital and we are together uniquely fortunate
to belong to Scotland's school. In the High School of Edinburgh over
the centuries sons of Dukes have sat next to sons of dustmen and
perhaps amongst you still do. Nobility does not come from birth nor
from the judgment of others. You must find it in yourselves."
"Your first task for me is to learn a poem. Up to now you have thought
of poetry as uniquely a matter of harmless prettiness, skylarks and
daffodils. We shall be looking at meatier stuff. The first poem we
shall consider is by my late friend the great modern Welsh romantic,
Dylan Thomas. It is called 'A Refusal to Mourn the Death by Fire of a
Child in London'."
Mutterings of disbelief. That was just the title! Bloody hell! Some
poems were shorter than that! Louder and more widespread scepticism
when we looked at the poem. Most of it was one long sentence
stretching over 12 lines or more. Incomprehensible.
"Your first homework is to learn it by heart. I shall ask some of you
to recite it to me tomorrow. Some of you may think memorizing is
pointless. It is not. When you are alone and exiled or imprisoned,
bereft of human fellowship, faced by madness and despair, when yo ur
mind whirls like a desert storm and no landmarks can be seen, then you
will be glad to have familiar pillars of truth to which you may cling.
Now be gone."
I've often thought of those final first words. I hope that Terry Waite
and other long-term hostages benefited from similar advice. Perhaps in
their case religious belief and prayer fulfilled the same role. Hector
never seemed a Christian despite the Calvinist ethic of difficulty he
had sketched. No denying his sense of the supernatural, though. He was
more of a pagan with a sympathy for the polytheism of ancient Greece.
Can I still do it? Is it there?
Never,
Until the mankind-making
Bird, beast and flower fathering
Silent and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour is come
Of the sea tumbling in harness
And I must enter again
The round Zion of the waterbead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed in the least valley of sackcloth
To mourn the majesty and burning of the child's death.
There's more that I've mostly forgotten.
In later years the vanity and name-dropping continued to amuse and puzzle
us. "'How did you like the play, Hector' Mr Eliot asked me after the first
night of The Cocktail Party. 'Well, Tom, I replied...'".
Several times he insisted on his friendship with Louis Macniece, and
assured us that his poem Bagpipe Music was written while they were
lying behind a tent at the Oban Highland Games with a bottle of whisky.
He told us of his war experiences and how "not all the might of the
Wehrmacht could cope with a Lewis man speaking to a Harris man".
He had a love affair with Irish Nationalism, and we did scores of
plays by Sean O'Casey, JM Synge, Shaw, etc as well as all of Yeats. He
delighted in Erskine Childer's Riddle of the Sands and stories of De
Valera. Yet he never struck us though as a _political_ nationalist in
the way some other masters overtly were.
He introduced us to the Stage and the Gateway Theatre. I remember
Volpone... I was call-boy. (We made jokes about call girls.) "Strong
stuff for boys" said a shocked Evening News. And to Burns Suppers...
And he ran the Lit and Deb where Mr Cook, the Foreign Secretary, honed
his formidable debating skills in mock trials and balloon games.
Sixth-formers who drank sometimes bumped into him in the legendary
Milne's Bar, where Edinburgh's literary intelligentsia gathered to lap
up whisky and the words of Hugh Macdiarmaid. Then it was a
sawdust-strewn drinking den with formica tables. Now it's so gentrified
and covered with literary memorabilia that I wouldn't go in even if
they let me and I could afford it.
I later heard he had married, like Balzac in his 50s, and, also like
Balzac, he died soon afterwards. I was saddened, and smiled at his
matter-of fact lack of modesty and quiet confidence.
Then suddenly I came across a festschrift, Memoirs of A Modern
Scotland, edited by his star pupil, Professor Karl Miller of UCL,
former editor of the Listener and a major presence on the London
literary scene. (And indeed captain of the first ever winners of BBC's
school quiz Top of the Form.)
There, to my amazement, I learned that all was true....Hommage was
paid to him by Norman McCaig, Sydney Goodsir Smith and the rest of
literary Scotland. A postscript by the editor said he had wanted to
include a piece of writing by Hector.... but couldn't find one. Like
his forefathers the bards he had had more influence on Scottish
literature than anyone else - yet never published a line.
PART II FOLLOWS