FURTHERMORE

What are you having?

Not much fun

PETRONELLA WYATT The other day I received an invitation from a group that called itself Arise. My first thought was that this was some sort of cult that believed either in getting up very early in the morning or in resuscitating the dead. On further study, however, I discov- ered that Arise stood for something else: Associates for Research Into the Science of Enjoyment.

Oh Lord, another by-product of pseudo- medical quackery, or worse still some kind of loony sect whose members wandered around in rainbow-coloured robes. The names on the letterhead, however, suggest- ed a higher degree of respectability. One was Professor Roger Scruton, the writer and philosopher; Dr Digby Anderson was another; a third was Professor David War- burton of Reading University.

The aim of the organisation, it would seem, was to 'study and promote the bene- fits derived from pleasure . . . People should not feel guilty about enjoying life's pleasures.' The professors evidently had no such qualms. The first meeting of Arise was to be held at the Roux brothers' fabled London restaurant Le Gavroche. After hearing a series of talks on the beneficial effects of enjoyment, the participants would sit down to a five-course dinner beginning with terrine de foie gras au poivre vert, followed by risotto safrane et coquilles St Jacques, then train de cote de boeuf aux echalotes et tresors des bois and soufflé Suissesse, ending with gourmandis- es au chocolat.

Are we really such a miserable lot that we require a bunch of greedy middle-aged male academics to tell us to enjoy our- selves? On reflection, the answer is yes. Most people these days, when asked by a barman what they are having, are less likely to reply 'a large dry martini' than 'not much fun'.

Are we living in a pleasureless era? I do not mean by this that we lack access to a huge number of cheap and quick diver- sions. But perhaps we do not take our enjoyment seriously enough: we approach it in a slapdash way. Is this right? Why, after all, should pleasure not be given the same care and concentration as work? The average working man or woman will devote hours of thought to the next day's meetings at the office, but only the most perfunctory consideration to what they will do when they go home.

This, I think, is a peculiarly modern thing. In the past, everyone was concerned to have his or her agrements. Yes, agrements: at one time this was the most common foreign word used by English writ- ers. It sounds a bit like a bottle of claret Chateau Agrements. And why not? It means, in fact, pleasures or enjoyments.

The most prized, and usual, form of plea- sure in those days was to sit down for up to three or four hours with a group of friends to a well-cooked dinner. The range of enjoyments open to us today would have boggled the 18th- or 19th-century mind cinemas, discos, karaoke, amusement parks, casinos, night clubs, even go-kart racing. But perhaps we have purchased this advantage at the cost of a greater tendency towards boredom and depression.

Boredom would seem more prevalent in our age than in any other. Like laughter, boredom is a uniquely human response. Animals may become unhappy, but there is no evidence at all that they are ever bored. But a dull life is something that the human being wishes to avoid at all costs.

Consequently, boredom is an emotion of which we have become more and more afraid. Every teenage girl expects to experi- ence as much excitement in one week as would have lasted the Bennet sisters for a whole lifetime. They move from club to club, bar to bar, love affair to love affair, narcotic to narcotic, always expecting to enjoy these things more the next time around.

But a life too full of artificial excitement is a wearying one, in which increasingly stronger stimuli are needed to give the thrill that is considered an essential part of pleasure.This eventually dulls the palate for almost every kind of enjoyment.

Perhaps the problem is that we play too 'Perhaps we should apply for some Lonely money.' much, but without giving enough thought to the refinement or maximisation of our pleasures. We should see pleasure as a sol- dier would regard conquering a bit of terri- tory. No general would go into battle with- out having mastered the lie of the land, yet we hurl ourselves into every sort of amuse- ment without really considering its efficacy.

Perhaps one of the keys to experiencing real pleasure is to approach it as one would an exam. Pleasure-seekers should prepare for their enjoyment with great care, whether it is a family meal or a large party. How many family meals and parties there are, but how many this year have you really enjoyed? Be honest. One, two? You would be fortunate indeed if you could say three.

Such entertainments ought to be seen in the same light as driving a car. No one without a licence should be permitted to prepare a dinner or give a party — which would, in an instant, disqualify two thirds of the hostesses in England. Which brings us to another point: too much revelry destroys the vital contrast between work and plea- sure. We assume that the ancients, being Sybarites to a man, or woman, were contin- ually at orgies. But this is not the case. Augustus, for instance, only went to a ban- quet now and then, and must have derived considerable satisfaction from the differ- ence between such festivities and the quiet life he usually lived with Livia.

There are far too many passive amuse- ments today which substitute titillation for genuine and lingering satisfaction. When was the last time you felt the splendour of the night, the delicate beauty of summer flowers, the aesthetic intoxication of exquisitely prepared food, the dizzying leaps and somersaults of really good con- versation?

Our artificial, modern dissipations are nothing to those pleasures that are close to the life of the earth and therefore to the heart of man — pastimes that include, above all, eating, drinking and communicat- ing. Arise then, Arise. I am all for you. There is one proviso, though. I refer, of course, to Professor Roger Scruton. Profes- sor Scruton is one of the gloomiest men in Europe. He would wipe the grin off the face of a laughing hyena. Putting Professor Scru- ton in charge of pleasure is like making Adolf Hitler the chairman of a committee to combat racism. But perhaps it was meant as a joke. It is, one has to admit, a very good one, which has given me much pleasure.