A day out... Alan Bennet

on another note, a friend of mine slept with Tolkeins Grand something recently...

i lived in Tolkeins old room for a year.
it was nice.

I was taught Greek by Tolkein's son. Tolkein wrote part of Lord of the Rings while visiting his son at the school during the holidays and much of the landscapre of Hobbiton is based upon the area around the school. He was reputed to have written in the classroom where I was taught aged 14.

Jeffrey Archer briefly taught my Dad English. He now denies ever having been a teacher.

The massive twat.

Not my Dad. Archer.

Quite a few of my former teachers also did gaol time, like Archer, only not for perjury.

Quite a few of my former teachers also did gaol time, like Archer, only not for perjury.

Did any of their houses also mysteriously burn down?

Did any of their houses also mysteriously burn down?

Not so far as I am aware...at least there was no mystery.

In my mind's eye, I see Plurabelle as The Lady in The Van.

that's really mean, Cliveo, take it back.

I thought you meant "The Lady in Vans" - hipsteress style

I thought you meant "The Lady in Vans" - hipsteress style

nice.

and for the record, I'm with Mr Smyth on the Bennett/Potter question.

Bastards.

Potter is also brilliant. Yes, probably 'better', but I love AlBe too.

talking of Brian Glover, does anyone remember the thing where a bunch of northerners went sea-fishing in a boat and all felt ill?
he was in that, some kind of gritty drama I expect.

I remember that well, Rob. A group of them on a weekend fishing expedition to Scarborough or somewhere else ghastly and north eastern. Stayed in a guest house. Sweet, faux naif sort of stuff. Grim northern men on their idea of a break from the grim reality of their existence replace it with yet more grim reality. Should have stayed at home and got on with their miserable northern lives. That's the one isn't it?

Mike Leigh ftw especially his Play for Today stuff from the 1970s before any of you were born.

Not just Abagail's Party but Nuts in May and all sorts of other stuff.

talking of Brian Glover, does anyone remember the thing where a bunch of northerners went sea-fishing in a boat and all felt ill?
he was in that, some kind of gritty drama I expect.

talking of Brian Glover, and film/TV of the gritty northern variety, must be time for someone to mention tht one of their all-time favourite celluloid moments is the scene where Glover plays football with the kids in the Ken Loach-directed Kes. There, did it.

Alan Bennett once called me "you poor sod". You can't put a price on memories like that can you?

Was this you then:

"29 May. A biker delivers some proofs from PFD, and as I’m signing for them, asks what’s my opinion of Cyril Connolly and why is it he’s less well thought of than, say, twenty years ago. Because he’s not long dead is the short answer and also, I suppose, because the literary scene has changed, with no one critic presiding in the way Connolly and (to a lesser extent) Raymond Mortimer did. [...]

I don’t quite spill all this out to the waiting courier, who is a graduate of UCL and shouldn’t have to be biking round London delivering letters this cold wet May afternoon."

From his diary, 2007.

I bet it was. I claim my £5.

I remember that well, Rob. A group of them on a weekend fishing expedition to Scarborough or somewhere else ghastly and north eastern. Stayed in a guest house. Sweet, faux naif sort of stuff. Grim northern men on their idea of a break from the grim reality of their existence replace it with yet more grim reality. Should have stayed at home and got on with their miserable northern lives. That's the one isn't it?

Yep! they all had massive breakfasts or lunches before they went on the boat, believing it to be good for warding off seasickness, they addressed the captain as "fisherman" the whole time:

Brian Glover: "that's right isn't it, Fisherman, a good layer of grease in the stomach ?"
Fisherman: (turning away and looking disgusted) "if you say so..."

I love AlBe too.

what? I'm almost too scared to ask what this bit of cryptic HTML-ing means, for fear of being shown up as bovine-brained.

Or perhaps Will was this one:

14 February. A courier, a good-looking dark-haired boy, comes this Valentine’s Day with a single rose for someone next door. Having rung the bell, he waits with his rose and clipboard: today’s Rosenkavalier needs a signature.

Although from 1996, so perhaps not. Also, 'good-looking'? I leave for others to decide.

Will would make an excellent character in a grim northern drama. Alan Bennet meets Get Carter meets The Homecoming meets The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner cyclist.

Family son goes off to London to be educated and make his fortune. Returns to find family is not what he thought and for family to discover the truth about what he has been doing in London.

Was this you then:

"29 May. A biker delivers some proofs from PFD, and as I’m signing for them, asks what’s my opinion of Cyril Connolly and why is it he’s less well thought of than, say, twenty years ago. Because he’s not long dead is the short answer and also, I suppose, because the literary scene has changed, with no one critic presiding in the way Connolly and (to a lesser extent) Raymond Mortimer did. [...]

I don’t quite spill all this out to the waiting courier, who is a graduate of UCL and shouldn’t have to be biking round London delivering letters this cold wet May afternoon."

From his diary, 2007.

I bet it was. I claim my £5.

Is this for real? or have i just told you this story? if it is for real then my life is complete.

Dennis Potter, past it after the Singing Detective . Only allowed on TV by his nostalgic mates.

Alan Bennet; good in parts , but not really saying any thing much these days. I thought the History Boys was bloated nostalgia for a failed education system.

Fucking hell; I've just checked in the LRB archives and it's true! I remember that day so well; we used to deliver to AB a lot and my controller, knowing I was an admirer, used to try and save those jobs for me. So there I was, on my way, thinking, I've got to think of something interesting to say, something to ask that he won't be expecting. And I thought about Cyril Connolly. There's no chance, I reasoned, that any courier will ever have asked him about Cyril Connolly.
So I did and we chatted briefly about CC (Cyril Connolly, that is, not Chris Crash). What, with typical modesty, he doesn't mention in his diary is that he had a look on his bookshelves to see if he had a certain book about CC that he wanted, very generously, to give me; sadly it was at his house in Yorkshire.
The time he called me a "poor sod" was a previous occasion when it was pissing down and I stood on his doorstep dripping and a little tongue tied.
Anyway since the CC incident I have often joked about him relating this unexpected conversation in his diary; never, ever, imagining that he would. I know it's pathetic and gushing and risible but to have made it in to AB's diary is as satisfying an experience as I have ever had; admittedly there is not much competition.
Thanks Jonty; I thought I had read all of AB's published diaries but somehow it slipped by.

hah no worries mate, he takes a keen interest in us couriers (exengers) so it seems.

Did CC not once get caught nicking an avocado from Somerset Maughn's yard? The same house in which ian flemming whipped his wife so hard during their s&m sessions that the maid had to change the sheets twice a day?

I am a veritable fountain of literary anecdotes.

PS: can I really claim my £5 then?

Will would make an excellent character in a grim northern drama. Alan Bennet meets Get Carter meets The Homecoming meets The Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner cyclist.

Family son goes off to London to be educated and make his fortune. Returns to find family is not what he thought and for family to discover the truth about what he has been doing in London.

couldn't you have included Ken Russel's the lair of the white worm or perhaps the Alan Bates/Oliver Reed naked fireside wrestling scene from women in love in your fantasy drama? would have spiced things up a bit.