Horizon

Weird, actually, that Mr. Isherwood's famous Berlin cabaret is on so many minds lately

It is?

Well, I was kind of thinking of this comments discussion, in which I participated, but it was also quite something to attend a performance of "Cabaret" in New York City in December '01. And Atrios has brought it up several times.

I dunno, maybe I just feel extra-close to Isherwood myself lately, what with living in a gay-inflected club neighborhood of San Francisco in these times.

Oh, Godwin's Law stuff. Never mind.

Sorry about that, yes. I started regretting it after posting the above.

There are, fortunately, plenty of more cheerful things to say about Isherwood.

For one thing he inspired *Tales of the City*, which is San Francisco's equivalent of a national epic.

For another he's an interesting connection between English and Californian alternative-culture crankery.

For another his work makes an interesting way to explore the difference between high and low culture. Is "Cabaret" high culture? OK, then, is *The Last of Mr. Norris* high culture? What about his dull early novel *The Memorial*? Is that one stiff enough to count as high culture? Does *Mr. Norris* count retroactively as high culture although it didn't at the time?

Since when is stiffness a required trait of high culture?

Well, maybe it isn't, but the pious sort of culture-worship often seems to presume it is, no?

True enough, I suppose. Did you see the recent Harper's article by Tom Robbins on this topic? Too much borrowed Zen-isms for my taste, but, yeah, he talked about that. He did have a point or two. All in all not such a fantastic article, now I think about it.

Yes, I kept wanting to know more about the Fabulous Club Gemini.

Well, last night we remembered the centenary here.

Three abgo people (Nigel N, ROBBIE and I) went to the Fitzroy Tavern. That used to be a hang-out for Augustus John, Nina Hamnett, Dylan Thomas and (rather more in the Isherwood mode) Tom Driberg among others, but on a summer August evening in 2004 it was less louche than those names suggest. We had German beer in CI's memory.

Then we went to Bertorelli's across the street. Philip Toynbee, Rex Warner, John Berger and other writers (including Isherwood) used to eat there. It was also there that TS Eliot was once asked to recite his favourite piece of prose. He uttered the words: "Well," cried Boss McGinty at last, "is he here? Is Birdy Edwards here?" "Yes," McMurdo answered slowly, "Birdy Edwards is here. I am Birdy Edwards."

I hope no one needs a footnote.

I recited Isherwood's little poem 'On His Queerness' and we had a lot of good talk. There were some great exchanges of 100th birthday presents.

We also spoke bits of the Auden birthday poem from 69 years ago:

"...I, each meal-time with the families,
The animal brother and his serious sister,
Or after breakfast on the urned steps watching
The defeated and disfigured marching by,
Have thought of you,Christopher, and wished beside me
Your squat spruce body and enormous head...

...In the houses
The little pianos are closed, and a clock strikes.
And all sway forward on the dangerous flood
Of history, that never sleeps or dies,
And, held one moment, burns the hand."

We've got lots more centenaries in our diaries. Graham Greene comes up in a month or so.

Tom

Cheers, & thx for delurking.

Embarrassed to say I had to Google "Birdy Edwards" to place that line but, yes, it's hella good writing.

While we're peripherally on the subject of Orwell fandom, the Charles' Links page has had a nice facelift recently.