A fig-leaf for David

My previous post wound up with the words "I got a job as assistant to a cinematographer making an educational movie about Michelangelo. But that’s a tale for another day." That tale, first published May 10th 2009, is below. It’s the 6th of August 1962. I’m sitting on the steps outside the Duomo, Florence’s cathedral,… Continue reading A fig-leaf for David

Life-story part 2

I looked again at this post today, it's not good enough, nobody will follow its intricacies, & nobody but I will care. Will try to make it more readable. Consider it as under refurbishment. "My father died in the war," I used to say, "so I never met him." It wasn't true but I wasn't… Continue reading Life-story part 2

The girl who torpedoed the Government

We met on a summer afternoon in ’59, two 17-year-olds, Pisces born within days of each other. We discovered we had much in common. Both from fatherless backgrounds, lacking any proper home. Each had been granted a single talent, you might say, in compensation for the lack. As her father-figure Stephen Ward said, she had… Continue reading The girl who torpedoed the Government

Me and the Little Rock Nine

My Headmaster’s great vision Now that my birthday’s out of the way—it’s become a family event, this year bigger than last—the most exciting thing going on in my life is Winter’s retreat and Spring’s approach: the great drama of the seasons. I like it when nothing more than that is happening, for then I can… Continue reading Me and the Little Rock Nine

In the thistle field, at dawn

I lie in bed watching dawn’s rosy fingers light up the house opposite, creeping lower as the hour advances. This street is narrow, its houses joined together (‘terraced’) in a continuous chain on both sides. You’d think there’d be scant room for the low-slanting rays to penetrate. But our house is near the street’s eastern… Continue reading In the thistle field, at dawn

Fog on the Solent (Norfolk House 5)

Royal Yacht Squadron, 1921: Norfolk House would be behind tree at right of church tower The Solent may have been the busiest sea-lane in the world and the most varied in its traffic. There were ferries between the mainland and our Island; the Royal Navy base at Portsmouth; the transatlantic liner port at Southampton; the… Continue reading Fog on the Solent (Norfolk House 5)

Norfolk House 4: Vignettes

In “Nest of Dreams” I referred to awakening sexuality. A boy, especially if he has come into contact with no girls, doesn’t necessarily associate his burgeoning virility with those giggling, teasing creatures. It doesn’t surprise me that some take the other direction and stay that way. In my case, wet dreams had always been accompanied… Continue reading Norfolk House 4: Vignettes