In the London Library. I’m slightly appalled at seeing one or two gentlemen here wearing shorts and trainers. My usual aesthetic grumblings aside, it’s not even particularly hot today. To the Library’s credit (considering the building’s age), it’s perfectly cool and airy in the Reading Room. Though I admit I often exist in my own micro-climate.
Speaking of gentlemen who like to dress casually to the point of claiming Human Rights, I see the author John O’Farrell is at a desk on my right. He appeared on that enjoyable TV programme, Grumpy Old Men, moaning in one instance about the pressure of buying new clothes and keeping up with fashions of the day: ‘What’s wrong with my shirt? I’ve had it for years. It doesn’t need replacing; it’s a perfectly serviceable shirt.’ But I forgive his championing of sartorial slovenliness, because he wrote the brilliant and very funny Things Can Only Get Better, a memoir about being a disillusioned Labour supporter.
I’ve tried looking for the desk mentioned in AS Byatt’s Possession but either it doesn’t exist, or it’s been moved.
It has been pointed out to me that Edmond hasn’t had quite the critical blanket praise I previously indicated. The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw has in fact called it ‘one of the very worst US pictures in years.’ The BBC’s Mark Kermode called it ‘too clever’, just as he slated Todd Haynes’s Palindromes (which I also love) in a similar manner.
If I start defending the film and rebutting the various criticisms, I run the risk of sounding like a representative of its makers, whom I’ve never met. Which was also the case with The History Boys, a film I love but which I’ve had to defend among my friends, point by point. I’ve done this so many times I have considered sending Alan Bennett an invoice for PR services.
What exactly is wrong with ‘too clever’, anyway? There was once a girl at school who said my trouble was I ‘think too much’, and I never saw that as particularly unflattering. Lost in my thoughts, certainly, drifting off into my inner world, sure. Thinking as opposed to doing, fair enough.
Though I maintain there are far worse things to be than a daydreamer. That over-quoted Pastor Niemöller poem about ‘First they came for the Somethings, and I did not speak up because I was not a Something’ can also be used by self-righteous bullies taking a stick to the cautious and meek, and not necessarily for good use either.
Sometimes it’s better to do nothing, to be cautious, to hold the coats and watch rather than get involved. Particularly if you’re the sort who may make a mess of doing something anyway, or may make things worse.
As ever, the answer is: it depends. One person’s having a go is another person’s blotting the copybook. One person’s apathy is another’s dreaming. I never regret any of my dreams. My response to that Nike trainers slogan, ‘Just Do It’, is, ‘Or Not.’ Or, ‘Just Do It For A Bit, But Not If You Then Discover It Isn’t You. And Trainers Are Not The Only Shoe.’
I’ve never thought it was possible to be ‘too’ clever at anything. It reminds me of the perennial school stigma of the class swot, those who do well – or even just want to do well – being sneered at by classmates. Clever equals resented, uncool and unpopular. As if the opposite was anything to write home about.
It’s true that one has to temper intelligence with humility, and the humour can often be the quickest route. Edmond has many moments of dark humour. But here I am, starting to argue defensively in favour of a film I have nothing to do with, just because I like it. Funny how mere taste and opinion engenders a kind of taking sides, bordering on brotherhood. The psychology seems to be ‘Hate my favourite things by others, and you hate me’.
