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People best know British writer Anthony Dymoke Powell for A Dance to the Music of Time, a cycle of 12 satirical novels from 1951 to 1975.
This Englishman published his volumes of work. Television and radio dramatizations subjected major work of Powell in print continuously. In 2008, The Times newspaper named Powell among their list of "the fifty greatest British writers since 1945."
I'd never imagined how grand Anthony Powell was - I would be the merest oik, I'm sure - at the very least I might be described as "presentable" - yet I have to say I relished the opportunity these diary entries gave me to hear share about Evelyn Waugh, John Betjeman - (were all of his teeth rotting? Was his face really green) - all those creatures of the 1930's - and, most of all, to hear the clear thoughts of this cool, clever - essentially very humane - man ...
The Journals are a fascinating window into the now octogenarian mind of AP. A multitude of judgments are passed, some of them provocative, others expected. In the first volume, O, How the Wheel Becomes It and The Fisher King are published. Obituaries proliferate. Reading and rereading form the basis of much of Powell's observations. Through it all, younger son John Powell emerges as a superb support for his parents in their declining years--in his way, as his father has said of fictional figures such as Carlos Flores, a great man.
A few observations from re-reading.
Life imitating Art: Rev’d Gerald Irvine (4) more than a little like Paul Fenneau in HSH, though appearing later.
AP, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, asked to comment on the sex scene in the film of Waugh’s Brideshead, says he he finds nothing arousing that involves another man. I wonder if my own fondness for lesbians has similar roots.
Anecdotes of fans showing up at the door of The Chantry, asking for autographs, etc. Who could, having read Dance and the memoirs, possibly imagine that the person who wrote these so admired works would at all welcome such invasive intrusion?
Service for Mrs Hallett (@102) mentioned (103). This one outlived all the Mrs Halletts in my own life. My wife, Michelle Butler Hallett, whose grandmother on the Butler side lived to 104, may have a shot at the longevity title. Just interesting to see one’s own name, even if in a totally unrelated context.
Amused by the reference to “Caroline Somerset . . . new Duchess of Beaufort” (104). It was Ian Fleming’s choice of a passport pseudonym for Tatiana Romanova in From Russia With Love.
Struck by the notion of getting “tickets” to Philip Larkin’s memorial service (211). At first, odd to think of a memorial as an event requiring tickets, but I suppose Larkin’s fame necessitated some sort of controlling measure re attendance.