Another voice
Tomalin inter turdos
Auberon Waugh
On Sunday Mrs Claire Tomalin, Liter- ary Editor of the Sunday Times, joined the thrushes' chorus of contributors to that newspaper's arts pages with an informative and well-written article on the choice of a new Poet Laureate. I did not agree with her main recommendations, it is true. She sug- gested that we might look at the American system of rewarding a laureate (or Poetry Consultant to the Library of Congress) with a salary, an office and secretarial help; and that Philip Larkin should be appointed.
On the second point, I am quite prepared to accept that Larkin is the best of a bad bunch, but the bunch strikes me as being so unutterably mediocre that it would be a far better thing to leave the laurels unawarded for a while, as they did after the death of Tennyson. On the first point, I feel that the Laureateship should be seen as acclaiming an established practitioner, rather than encouraging an unknown and struggling one, like an Arts Council bursary, or help- ing out some old poet who has fallen on bad times, like a Royal Literature Fund award. It is a cliche (and also, I feel, a major un- truth) that genius is never recognised in the lifetime of its possessor. But even if that were true, I do not think it is the job of the Prime Minister's office to guess which of the present generation of unacclaimed, unloved and unread poets might possess a genius which posterity will recognise — even with the help of such expert advice as might be forthcoming from Lord Gowrie, her unacclaimed etc Minister for the Arts, and Mrs Claire Tomalin. John Betjeman proved that there is a huge market for good poetry among the educated people of Eng- land. If a poet is unable to please the public or sell his wares, I think it fair to assume that he is not a suitable candidate for the laurels. It would be a grave disservice to poetry if the Laureateship turned into another Booker Prize.
Mrs Thatcher's one previous gesture towards acknowledging the existence of a Poets' Corner in many Englishmen's (and Englishwomen's) hearts has been to award a knighthood to Stephen Spender. It was a curious choice. Spender, if not quite the worst, is certainly the least interesting of all the nonentities being peddled around as possible laureabili. Dare I suppose that this eccentric decision was made on the advice of Lord Gowrie, who was once Spender's colleague at London University?
Whether it was or not, it illustrates the pitfalls in front of Mrs Thatcher, as she contemplates her choice. Whereas Edward Heath's appointment of Betjeman as Laureate, Harold Wilson's knighthoods for Betjeman and Wodehouse are conspicuous among the few Golden Deeds in their other- wise black careers, Mrs Thatcher, in bestowing the spurs on Stephen Spender, succeeded only in making herself a laughing-stock among the few people who notice these things.
Lord Gowrie may have many qualities — graceful movement, an uncanny ability to follow animal spoors and see in the dark — but I do not think Mrs Thatcher would be well advised to listen to him on the matter of appointing a Poet Laureate. Nor do I feel she should listen to Mrs Tomalin. But in saying this I do not intend to suggest that Mrs Tomalin is in any way unfitted for her post as Literary Editor of the Sunday Times. If the rest of my article is taken up with repeating and enlarging on this and similar disavowals, I hope the reason will emerge.
Mrs Tomalin, as I say, does not appear to me in any way unsuitable for her post as Literary Editor of the Sunday Times. Hav- ing at last got round to reading that newspaper's literary pages after a gap of many months, I should say she is certainly no worse and possibly rather better than her predecessor. I very much enjoyed Professor John Carey's review of Kingsley Amis's new novel, Stanley and the Women (Hutch- inson, £8.95) while violently disagreeing with everything he said about it.
At one point in that vastly entertaining novel, Mrs Duke (wife of the Amis hero, Stanley) turns on him and calls him 'you lower class turd'. This seemed an admirable description not only of the Amis hercrbut of a whole school of fiction reviewers con- cerned more with proclaiming their own social insecurities than discussing the book under review. Amis himself was an early, even pioneering member of the Lea. school of criticism — so is Philip Larkin, if you refer to his review of Evelyn Waugh's Let- ters in the Guardian of 4 September 1980: 'It is impossible to imagine getting a letter from Evelyn Waugh ... one would have to have a nursery nickname and be a member of White's, a Roman Catholic, a highborn lady or an Old Etonian novelist.' But Pro- fessor John Carey is easily the leading light in what survives of this 1.c.t. school, and the only one with any vitality left.
None of this must be taken to imply any disaparagement of Mrs Tomalin's fitness for the post. Nor should anything I have said be taken to imply that Mrs Tomalin is a lesbian, or wishes insidiously to promote and further the cause and interests of homosexuals. Nor should it be supposed that I think she corruptly and dishonestly seeks to control the content of a book review. All these revolting and untrue senti-
ments have been laid at my door, War- ently on Mrs Tomalin's behalf, by Messrs Theodore Goddard, who are retained bY Times Newspapers Limited. Perhaps had better explain the background to my jitters; Two years ago, readers may remember, • published an extraordinary correspondence between Mr A. S. Chancellor, then Edit °A1 of the Spectator, and someone cane': Anthony Whitaker, Legal Manager n` Times Newspapers Ltd, in which Whitaker demanded damages for a Sunday Tinles reporter called Simon Freeman for song imagined Mse-majeste by me. Chancellor answered robustly that he had no intention of paying a farthing, which prompted the memorable reply from Whitaker:
'Dear Mr Chancellor,
I have your letter of yesterday. 'Our patronising, off-hand and sneering response to Mr Freeman's complaint is 35 degrading as it is disillusioning. Do Y91] wish to nominate solicitors, or shotilu proceedings (be) served at the Spectator's office?'
But a writ never arrived, and there was uneasy feeling in Doughty Street that may inadvertently have left the legal arta editorial departments of the Sunday Tiflles, feeling rather foolish. So I was 11°` altogether surprised to receive a strange let- ter last November, purportedly from Mrs Tomalin, asking me in rather insulting terms if I would be prepared to revieW trashy anthology of Lesbian and `ga? literature by one of her homosexual con- tributors, Mr Adam Mars-Jones. Judging/ that the letter was intended to provoke, wrote a humorous piece about it in Private Eye. Poor Mrs Tomalin may well have been puzzled and even slightly upset at first because it appears that the original letter was an extremely successful practical Pke on both of us. Even so, it seemed quit, quick off the mark of the Sunday Tittles s legal department to have delivered a writ within four days of publication. As soon as I discovered what was happening I printed 3 handsome withdrawal and apology — the first ever to appear in the Diary's 12- Year existence — and would happily have sent her an enormous box of chocolates. But her legal advisers demanded E2,50°. As the Sunday Times is paying all her expenses, even if she loses, I can scareelY blame her for pressing on, and the case is. down for a hearing some time next year,: One must say nothing at this stage whic“, might prejudice the hearing, but I woult" like to pronounce a solemn curse on ah lawyers. Perhaps E2,500 is chickenfeed t° them, as it may be to anybody on the Sun- day Times payroll. To me it represents more than 6 months' fees from Private Eye, org to fifty book reviews for the Spectator. a farmWorker it represents a thousan° hours' work. If the libel laws invoked s° readily by the wretched Murdoch reallY justify a payment of this sort then more people should try their luck with his own repulsive newspapers.
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