THE OTHER OLIVER EDWARDS
SIR,—I must try to clear up this mystery of 'the real Oliver Edwards,' since the humour of Strix's piece about him depends on his point that Mr. Edwards 'cannot be in the literary world, or he would have said so.' This makes way for other jokes on the lines of, 'perhaps he had played football for Cardiff and Read- ing,' etc. Strix is the least personally malicious of writers, and I am sure his banter will not seriously annoy Mr. Edwards, but it is worth pointing out that he is in the literary world; his professional field is the study of German literature, and he has been in charge of this study at the Universities of Cardiff and Reading; at the moment he runs the German Department at University College, London- derry. As far as I know he has never played football for any of these places, though, being rather athletic, he might have done. Dr. Edwards is also a poet of very real, though not very widely recognised, quality, and an authority on the life and work of W. B. Yeats.
This makes it, 1 think we must agree, quite sensible for him to advertise in the press to disclaim the articles which The Times has, in- explicably, published over his name. Since this business started, at least a dozen people in Reading Stave asked me whether the writer was 'our Oliver Edwards,' and no doubt they are asking the same question in Cardiff, Londonderry, and elsewhere; it seems a use- ful short way of settling the matter. Thus do life's little mysteries turn out not to be mysterious at all. Strix had better have a few reference books for Christmas! — Yours faithfully,
JOHN WAIN
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