Postscript

Altogether nearly

P.J. Kavanagh

Excuse me, is this the I--:/The man was angled forward,weigPublich on front foot like M. Hulot.

?:

`No,' said the large barmaid, 'this is the Lounge. The Public's through there.' e The thin man made as if to lea" e altogether, to walk round the outside or the pub to the correct door. 'You can cont through,' said the barmaid,

again the connecting door. indicating 'Oh. Thank you. Is that all right?

began to edge, almost sideways, towards it* 'I like to keep to my own class.' When he had gone the barmaid stared in- to space for a moment. So did I, the onlYt occupant of the Lounge except for a cltnee couple in the corner. 'I never heard anY°11ci say that,' she said at last, 'I'd better go af3f see if he's all right,' and bustled out o sight. She came back. 'That's an odd onei Know what he asked for? "Half a pint ° the most expensive."' eErveedn. i 'The h e Terence.' . ' A regular had

a d en;

'You wouldn't try to flog me a Pint °„f that Director's, would you?' Terence att

geared an aggressive regular. The barmaid did not respond, drew his pint and said idly: 'I went to see Billy Graham the Other night.' 'Christ!' said Terence.

'That's what he said.' (This was getting good.)

'Typical Yank,' he said.

`I rather liked him. The choir was lovely.' 'Oh Yes, masses of money.'

'I didn't like the white bucket.' 'Well, it's Yanks isn't it.' I had to go. I had only been there six Minutes and I had heard the subjects

nearest the English heart: class (viewed with

ambiguous aggression) and the awfulness of foreigners. Also, in the last sequence 1 had

heard two people of opposing viewpoints discussing something with apparent agree- ment because neither was listening to the

Other . This, I take it, is English because it is

a sovereign way to avoid an argument. Mr throld Pinter, to his great credit, was the

first to notice this and imitate it on the stage. As a consequence, such conversa- tions, which have gone on forever and all the time, are now known as `Pinteresque', as though nature imitated art.

I had to go because I was taking part in a Charity concert in the church opposite, in

aid of the NSPCC. It was a musical concert but I had undertaken to find and read some Poems concerned with children. The occa-

sionwas complicated by the fact that we ...act bought some tickets for friends and giese, however old and intimate, would need some looking after, whereas all I .wanted to do was worry whether I had Drought the right pieces of paper. It was a good concert, with a good choral ss?cietY and a fine young flautist called Limon Channing. But one of the friends had turned up with flu, the church was ex- *rein* draughty, and I feared I was going '0 have his death on my hands. It is always a Mistake to invite friends when one is ap- Pearing in public. It affects one's perfor- ance. There was a microphone but (not Wishing to appear too professionally deft in f intIlit of old, sceptical friends) I chose to ..eave it on and ignore it. As a result, the 'elliptor Laurence Whitfield told me after- wards, I sounded as though I had a cleft 1?alate or was having trouble with my teeth. (It is always a mistake to invite friends.) Rovvever, after what I took to be an nglish experience in the pub beforehand, the concert ended with another one. We Were invited to join in the choruses of ,Tud, mud, glorious mud', the song by rliariders and Swann. The sight of the e 1:oristers, men in dinner jackets, women in tiing skirts and high, demure blouses, hear- strY declaring their desire to wallow in mud tick Me as the gentility principle in ac- tion t, There was no farm labourer present, ni,,sing the glories of mud. Have the English middle dle classes, with that song, found a way 0

sf expressing class solidarity, and their Id?

o

11eone should write a thesis about it.

• cl would the French sing 'Boue, boue, 'Il „uue glorieuse'? Surely something more of e earth, earthy.