Home thoughts afloat
TABLE TALK DENS BROGAN
Off Halifax—I had fondly hoped to leave Eng- land complimenting British Railways onits new abrasive management. Alas, even the Eastern Region has failed me and has raised in my mind the question of whether it-is possible even to force customers back to the Iron Morse. Bound for the United States, I decided to re- cuperate by sailing on the slowest of the big passenger ships, the Nieuw Amsterdam (a) be- cause it would be quite quick enough for me (b) because it was almost the only big liner of the old school I hadn't sailed in and (c) because I like old Amsterdam.
But I had underestimated the difficulties of getting by -rail from .Cambridge to the boat train at Waterloo. I - planned to take a fairly early train that would allow nearly two hours to get from Liverpool Street to Waterloo. Perhaps- we did not allow enough time at Cambridge to get my luggage on the "minutes
in (six pieces), but we did allow ten minutes in the early afternoon, not, surely, too narrow a margin? But when we got to the station, there were no porters to be found. I dashed to the platform hunting for a porter in vain. There were porters but where? No official knew.
With an enterprise I would not have shown, my wife, recovering from a bad accident, got the suit cases out, found an abandoned 'trolley' and slowly pulled the luggage on it through the gate which a ticket collector kindly opened for her though she had no platform ticket. We hauled my six months supply of luggage to the waiting train past half a dozen British Railways officials, none of whom had any solution to the porter problem, but none of whom rebuked us for using British Railways property without permission. The train was about to leave; I rushed to the guard (Nutt no doubt) asking could he hold the train for a minute as I was trying to get to New York. He was inflexible. Rigorous punctuality is what Cardinal Newman would have called the 'note' of British Railways. I caught a much later train (a competent porter having at last appeared) and a black and ex- tremely intelligent porter at Liverpool Street, an extremely intelligent and white taxi driver, then another highly intelligent and speedy black porter at Waterloo got me on the boat train with three minutes to spare. No doubt when Lord Elton and Mr Duncan Sandys have got the West Indians back to their island homes, we will have to rely on white porters if there are still any railways serving passengers.
It would be idle -to pretend that this exper-: ience is unique or confined.to the unfortunate customers of British Railways. I look with hor- ror to what Tthay have to endure at PennsylJ vania station in two days' time. But it is this kind of breakdown that drives people- away from the railways and they are not to be coaxed back by most ingenious time-tables and plans of organisation which seem to -have as much reality as the 'staff rides'- with which - European armies prepared for war in 1914. The Italians called them mgnovre sulla carta. There are too many manoeuvres on nice stiff PANT in too many aspectS of British life today.
But we are, I am delighted to report, not: the only sinners. I was informed bkF -an amiable and British employee of the Holland Ainerica line - that My cabin bad been changed-, no reason was given.:I asked what would happen to my luggage, all labelled for the old •cabin? I Was,., confidently assured that my steward wouliik bring it to my cabin. It arrived there, after many complaints, fourteen hours later. I re- flected that perhaps the Cunard line could make a go of the new Elizabeth II. I was further reassured when I saw the decor of the first-class quarters. I have sailed in or inspected most great liners, but I have never seen any- thing to equal the Nieuw Amsterdam. When I think of the unkind things I wrote about poor Lady Brocklebank's efforts as an interior decorator for the Q3! I came to the conclusion that the interior decoration had been originally planned for some palace of freedom or some- thing like that in the Kremlin but that Stalin had thought the plans too vulgar.
I was astonished when I reflected on the ele- gance of so much of The Hague and Amster- dam, of the reconstruction of Rotterdam, as some of the 'urbanisation' of Utrecht. But I was even more astonished when I inspected the shops on this liner destined for what would have been called 'the carriage trade.' I have never seen such Kitsch, not even in French provincial towns or Irish church bazaars. And yet the young saleswomen were models of ele- gance, sleek, slim, brunette, not for a moment recalling Queen Juliana. They were admirably- 1 'equipped to be vendeuses in, say, the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore in what we call 'boutiques.—(What do the French call 'bou- tiques'? Shops?) I, of course, had admirable service of, possibly, too filling Dutch meals, but when I thought of the France or of Queen Elizabeth I or even of the United States, I sighed for the countrymen of Rembrandt and Vermeer, of Tasman and De Ruyter. It is un- kind but I felt complacent, as I did last spring in Belgium where I was repeatedly assured that I didn't know what political troubles are. And when I. tell -Americans that it is only seven months since I was last in God's Country they assure me, with gloomy pride, that the manage- ment has been changed. Of course, if you ignore the decor, much on this great ship is admirable. There is the.Jungle Bar where a very skilled `pianist plays -the old songs. But he didn't know 'Mountain Greenery' or 'Five Foot Two' even after, at his request, I had sung them to him. Strange but true.
IL feel I must register a complaint about the absurd fees offered by many publishing houses for the quite responsible job of reading a manuscript or reading a book in a foreign tongue for possible translation. A friend of mine was -very recently asked to recom- mend or not' to recommend for translation, a children's book in a -language which very few English people know well. She is '-one of the few -whO do. For this service, she was offered two guineas. She pointed out that after paying tax she would have left 28s for serious work —about a shilling. an hour. Some years ago I was asked, by a very importantpublishing firm indeed,• to read a book, which would have in- volved very considerable capital expenditure by the firm if I had -recommended publication, for the sum of seven guineas. I pointed out that, as I paid surtax, r.would receive roughly two guineas for this, job. The letter to me was illiterate, written-by the secretary of some minor official in this great firm, wrongly addressed, and on the whole rather rude. I complained about the bad manners and said that on no account would I read the- nsi, I received an apology from the very eminent head of the firm. (I pointed- out that I am a publisher myself, and the firm of which I am a director would not go in, for this nonsense:) Two year later, the same firm asked me to read an even longer ms. This time the letter was from a member of the firm and was quite literate. I was again offered seven guineas. A few months ago the richest university press in the world-asked me to read the ms of a very long book on a subject about which I know a great deal, and again I was offered seven guineas. Since this was an academic chore, I was willing to read it for seven guineas, but not without protesting to the Oxford UniVersity Press that this was absurd. By mistake, I was paid twice. Foolishly, I sent the second cheque back, despite female advice to cash it and let the OUP clear up its own accounts.
I am certain that publishing firms notice in- flation where it affects them, but surely it is rather odd that they should take the opinion of somebody so grossly underpaid (as their 'ex- perts' would be) to commit themselves to the publishing of books which will cost them-a good deal, and may lose them a good deal. I feel quite abrasive about this side of out-intellectual life, especially when I remember that- I once turned down in tts Forever Amber, which was then taken up by another extremely respectable firm which, I believe, made a packet out of it.
Previous page
