Start the week #89

Remembering a great teacher, poetry, good links, great videos

Greetings!

This is an eclectic collection of stuff, as you’ll discover if you read it. Some of it is even serious.

But enough of this persiflage! On with the newsletter.

Terry

Remembering Arnie Kurtz

Last week, while listening once again to the radio play The Investigator, I thought about how I learnt about it in the first place. It was from a teacher called Arnie Kurtz, who took the (compulsory) Liberal Studies classes in the college I attended to study for my ‘A’ Levels.

My first encounter with Arnie was not promising. A group of us was milling around trying to work out what we had to go to and when — it was our first day in the college. Arnie appeared out of nowhere and barked, “You should be in room 103 now. It’s not my job to go chasing after students.”

So, not a great recommendation, and that’s without even considering the subject itself. I mean, Liberal Studies? Give me a break.

But it turned out to be a great course, and Arnie introduced us to a host of ideas and concepts.

One thing he said, which turned out to be prescient, was that parents tell their children not to accept sweets from strangers, but when it comes to drugs at university, it will be your friends trying to cajole you. That turned out toi be true, and my circle of “friends” diminished rapidly as I kept refusing to partake.

He also said that parents tell their children not to take money from strangers, and also not to take money from people you know because it’s not the done thing. So if you go into business, who are you meant to take money from?

It’s a difficult one. When the owner of a pizzeria (Enzo) and I met serendipitously a couple of years ago, I ordered a pizza and he wanted to give it to me for free, because he felt bad about taking money from me. I declined. I said “You’re here to make a living, but if you still feel bad, how about taking 10% off the bill?”.

Arnie also played us The Investigator, a play about McCarthyism which resonates even today.

And he showed us a film about The Holocaust, a French film called Night and Fog. My friends and I always repaired to a local café after the lecture, and animatedly discuss what we’d learnt. But after that film we just sat drinking our drinks in utter silence.

It occurred to me that if Arnie is still alive, I ought to thank him for imparting his wisdom in general, and for The Investigator in particular. However, it turns out he died in 2008. Apparently, he had to take early retirement because of illness. I should imagine that must have been devasting to him because he clearly loved teaching.

Thanks, Arnie.

Arnie Kurtz Obituary.

Poetry Corner

In preparing the syllabus for my 60 Minute Writer course (see below), I considered what poetry to include. For a very long time I’ve loved the work of the Russian poet Yevtushenko. I haven’t included any of his poems in this term’s course, but I thought it would be nice to mention some of my favourites poems of his here.

For a beautiful love poem that is not at all mushy or over-the-top, read Waiting, which includes the wonderful:

In from the pouring dark, from the pitch night
without stopping to bang the taxi door
she’ll run upstairs through the decaying porch
burning with love and love’s happiness…

The language is very ordinary, on the whole, so much so that it reminds me a little of Jack Clemo’s A Calvinist in Love.

Then there is Babi Yar, in which he recalls the murder of 30,000 Jews in two days. Here is one of the verses:

Wild grasses rustle over Babi Yar,
The trees look sternly, as if passing judgement.
Here, silently, all screams, and, hat in hand,
I feel my hair changing shade to gray.

My first encounter with the works of Yevtushenko was his poem Talk, which closes with this:

How sharply our children will be ashamed
taking at last their vengeance for these horrors
remembering how in so strange a time
common integrity could look like courage.

My writing course

In a few days’ time I’ll be teaching a course called The 60 Minute Writer. Each week I’ll be introducing a different writing technique, which people can spend some time trying out. There are 11 sessions, and in most of them I’ll be starting with a reading of an excerpt of an article, book or poem. I’ll also be recommending books for people to buy or borrow. I think it will be quite a good course, the more so because at the time of writing this there are only two places left, out of a maximum of 18. If all goes according to plan, we should get a lot done in the hour.

I am also looking forward to not having any ice-breakers, which always leave me cold. No, I’ll give people 30 seconds max to introduce themselves, and say why they signed up for the course, and what writing, if any, they’ve done so far.

I’m toying with the idea of not spending a load of time typing out individual feedback. Instead, I’ll give everyone a sheet with a numbered list of comments, like, “Don’t give up the day job”, “Did you sign up by accident?” and “You cannot be serious”. My feedback will thereafter consist of a single comment like: See number 8.

Yes, I think that should work nicely¹.

Articles you may have missed

Letters to Rebecca #25-01, the latest in my bi-weekly chortlefest to

Rebecca Holden

, who will be replying on Wednesday if she can think of enough witty repostes. Subscribe to hers too if you like fine writing and lovely artwork.

And then there was Spikey, a true true-love story. It’s for paying subscribers only, but you can always avail yourself of the free trial offer. It’s a heartwarming story, not a sobfest.

Finally, my latest “Experiment in Style”, in which I rewrite the same basic story in different styles: Testing Times, An English Exam Comprehension Exercise. Please note: the comments section, originally locked accidentally, is now open to all. That brings the number of version to 90. You can find links to all the previous versions here: Index.

Other people’s articles

I enjoyed reading this article about David Foster Wallace, by

Bryan Padrick

.

And

Laura Moreno

has written an engaging essay about James Baldwin.

Videos

That reminds me of the conversation I had with the Head of Computing in the Local Authority I was the ed tech advisor in:

Me: Harry², I didn’t know you were leaving.

Harry: I’m not.

Me: So how come your job is being advertised then?

Harry: Is it?

The next one features Alvin Stardust. The main thing I remember about it was a woman on a bus who said to me, in a very pronounced Liverpudlian accent, “He looks like he’s got rigor mortis.”

I’m a simple soul, so this Laurel and Hardy clip always makes me laugh:

Over fifty years later, this is still a great song. Half the people here seem completely zonked out!

Finally, I’ve always liked this song, and I find the drummer’s technique fascinating. The bass player is something else too!

Finally…

Last week I was all set to cancel one of the courses I was booked on: three, plus the one I’m teaching. Even I, despite my boundless energy, have my limits. Just as I was about to do the deed, an email arrived out of the blue. One of the courses had to be cancelled. So things worked out very well without my having to do a thing. I put it down to Maharishi’s concept of Nature Support.

In one of Maharishi’s lectures he said that a person who is enlightened would get what they needed just by wishing for it. For example, he said, if an enlightened person loves peas, and he goes to a conference, the lunch will include peas.

Someone asked: But what if there’s another enlightened person at the same conference, and he doesn’t like peas?

Well, Maharishi answered. He doesn’t have to eat them, does he?

And then spent the next five minutes laughing!

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I hope you have enjoyed this newsletter. In the unlikely event that you haven’t, all I can say is, in the wise words of Irving Berlin, if you don’t like my peaches stop shaking my tree.

Thanks for reading!

1. The bit about feedback was a joke, in case you’re wondering.

2. Not his real name.