The notion of some kind of complete originality of thought is so obviously utterly barmy that's it's difficult to grasp why it is praised so highly. At best we may synthesise received ideas in what appear to be new ways, though it's always likely someone else got there before us. I rather like the sensation of the thoughts of others gaining entrance into the confines of my consciousness; a kind of freedom is thus made available, a getting outside oneself - to become at least twoself - possibly manyself.
There can be a real pleasure in realising whose voice it is you are speaking through. For a few moments today I became my 'A' level Lit teacher, the estimable Jack Connolly, and it felt good. (I nearly said inimitable, but the point is, of course, we're all imitable.)
Thursday, February 6, 2014
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2 comments:
I remember him well Brian - and can vividly recall a number of specific insightful moments in his lessons. Believe he had a greater impact than any subsequent Lit. tutors at University.
Completely agree. University was a let-down after Jack. Remember him storming round as Lear, walking accidentally into the half-opened window, almost knocking himself out, and STILL DOING LEAR because he just couldn't stop the speech??
A great, great, lovely, man.
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