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| Talk to an intellectual. It's cheap. It's uplifting |
History? Just disconnected events. The Agricultural Revolution and Jethro Tull's spiffing seed drill. Not the singer you understand. And not enough for a GCE O-level.
Many teachers were ancient, the young ones were out fighting WW2. These whiskery dodderers had one commitment - to corporal punishment, often ingeniously contrived. One lurched away from their lessons in pain.
Later, reacting against my tormenters, I took up history. Read a tome (ie, a book with many footnotes) about the 1832 Reform Act; it's more racy than you think. I've thought a lot about history during The Plague. Is it repeating itself?
You see, for me the stay-at-home rules were already in place. All my interests are practised indoors. I don’t care if the sun shines or if it snows. I can sing Schubert regardless. One day resembles another.
Just a minute, though. Isn't this like life during the Stone Age? An Age which happened in history, like most Ages. Stone Man probably didn't sing, certainly not Schubert. But he got to know the inside of his cave very well. Might I turn into a fossil?
Of course I’m drinking more. Stone Man may have had mead, but you could tire of that. I’ve tasted mead, I know. For me there are thousand wines from France, beer, Armagnac. A singing pie-eyed fossil, then? Living in a reconstructed cave like a museum display. Look folks, a Stone Age computer monitor! £10 for the guided tour. Could be worse.
I dunno.
ReplyDeleteStoneman would have to get up and out into the unknown and dangerous world at first light. Equip himself with some sort of weapon and go off to find fresh meat. Meanwhile, if he had a Stonewoman, she would be out with some sort of woven basket to gather whatever eatables grew in the vicinity.
Then both back to the cave where, hopefully after some effort, a fire might be kindled for warmth and cooking the meat. After that, with no washing up, it might be bedtime.
Sounds like a very busy, essential existence, day in, day out.
Avus: Not sure you've thought this one through. As you say, hunting would have been a lonesome business; caves are no guarantee there'd be other caves nearby. Thus no community. Also no supermarkets; no going out and returning with half a kilo of stewing steak. The malnourished, probably scurvy-ridden Stone Man would want to ensure his meat forays paid off: a sabre-toothed tiger or half a mammoth would be a better bet. In winter the shorter days would cut into the time available for tracking down prey, snow might make it impossible.
ReplyDeleteI didn't say Stone Man wouldn't go out ("know the inside of his cave very well"), I implied he wouldn't be predisposed towards picnics. Or lolling about on the grass. For one thing he'd have learnt that hunters could quickly become the prey. Indoors was safer, waiting for TV to be invented. He could of course go in for pre-Attenborough divertissements like painting wildlife on the walls. But the strange thing about this is not that it happened but that it seems to have happened so rarely.
Conversation would be burdensome given the chatterers would simultaneously be involved in expanding their meagre vocabulary. However I suspect that their chat would be superior to much of what passes for chat these days. Vocabulary-expansion would place a higher premium on word definition; those who lazily resorted to explanation by way of analogy would earn their deserts in one of the colder corners of the cave.
Living with a teacher for 40 years also means that I have seen many kids grow into adults often choosing careers or directions which never seemed to be on the cards when they were cramming for their finals.
ReplyDeleteAs for me, the subject I totally failed in school was English. So much so that I was told to drop it since I was obviously not talented for modern languages. That and all the sciences. I did my final exams in German, Latin and geography, biology at a push and flaked my way into university - and out of it.
Met my English teacher at a reunion 15 years later and he almost apologised but initially thought I was having him on until I told him off in no uncertain English terms.
Sabine: But you don't attempt to say why you failed at school. You're obviously a cleverclogs, that's one reason why I patronise your blog. It takes one to know one. Were you a late-developing cleverclogs? If so, how and why did it happen?
ReplyDeleteI thought at first your comment was an act of pure self-abasement; had this been the case it would have been uncharacteristic. But the last sentence returned you to normality - on top. I wouldn't want you anywhere else.
I agree with your earlier point. Failing in English was a heavily ironic event in your life. It's unlikely to happen again.
My failures at school simply didn't matter. My father asked me what I wanted to do for a living when I was 11 and re-confirmed my choice when I was 15, about to leave school. It was clear - for better or for worse - that in some respects I'd already become a nascent journalist. It's not a noble trade, has no social standing and requires nothing other, by way of qualification, than unbounded curiosity and a willingness to flirt with minor forms of deception. Any skills with words I have are merely the result of endless practice, right up to this very moment.
However, I experienced one damascene moment. For complicated reasons and a familiarity with my intelligence I was wholly unaware of, the RAF decided I would become a wireless fitter during my two years' national service. This involved severe demands on my intellect. The training lasted eight months, 08.30 - 1700, five and a half days a week, which comes close to three years at university compressed into the absolute minimum of time. I faced about 25 exams where failure would have brought about exquisite punishment.
The experience was to prove seminal. From it I developed a once-over-lightly view of science. In academic terms this would have been a nothingness, but journalists only need to know a little bit about a lot of things. My career took various turns all of them dependent on this new-found knowledge - and subsequent enthusiasm.