I remember reading many years ago that Graham Greene was troubled by encountering reports in the press of his attendance at various events at which, in fact, he had not been present. He was convinced that somebody out there was going around pretending to be him, making speeches on his behalf and engaging in other forms of impersonation. The novelist John Wyndham entertained on several occasion in his stories the idea that our personal destinies might diverge at some point, with alternative versions of ourselves pursuiing quite different trajectories. This idea held out the possibility, of course, that the different versions of ourselves might suddenly encounter each other at some time in the future. I was reminded of these images of the doppelgänger today, reading through the hoard of my recovered papers to which I referred in a post last week.
Some of the things I have found (in the treasure-trove of my old papers I recovered from the university library) are of little interest. A collection of personal letters contains, of course, some precious souvenirs of friends and family. The most disturbing part of this experience of rediscovery, however, has been provided by the chance to re-read some of my academic writing, dating from the early years of my career in the ‘seventies. The collection includes the first drafts of three books that never reached the point of serious pursuit with a publisher. One was, in fact, a study in the sociology of literature based around the work of John Wyndham. Another was a projected volume on the sociology of morals. The third, which I spent time reading this morning, dealt with the relationship between the related disciplines of social anthropology, sociology and history. The associated correspondence suggests that these were all produced mainly between 1970 and 1980, and also that the primary reason I didn’t pursue any of them beyond the first draft was that the publishers with whom I made preliminary enquiries thought that they were too specialist in their focus to be marketable. I took the hint, and moved on to other projects.
The truly startling element of this experience of re-acquaintance, however, was the discovery that I could write well, and this reminded me of how much in the past I have enjoyed writing. When I took early retirement from university work back in 2002 I regretted not at all the ending of contact with students. Certainly I had no regrets about leaving administration behind! I did find it quite a wrench to sever my connection with writing. Painting was, however, what I had really wanted to do, so I threw myself into this new activity. Only during the last winter have I found myself lured back into writing once again.
By coincidence with this renewed contact with my former self I received last week a request from a former colleague to look at and comment upon the sketch of a book he plans to write. Reading his work has been interesting, but problematic, in that I have wanted to take issue quite strongly with some parts of his approach, and I have been trying to set down clearly the reasons for my dissent. That has actually been an enjoyable process.
Coincidentally, this task has coincided with the “resting” period in my art, to which I referred in a previous post. I have to confess that I have been feeling somewhat at a loose end, without a sense of direction and with a reduced feeling of purpose. As a consequence I found myself asking the hard question at lunch time as to whether it might have been better had I stayed with writing, treating art only as a pass-time. The mood didn’t last long, partly under the influence of my wife’s common-sense, but also as a response to a telephone conversation with the purchaser of one of my pictures. Even so, there is a folder in this computer in which I have, from time to time, stored short pieces, perhaps in the belief/hope that I might at some point return to them and develop them into some thing more substantial. Are the parts of me heading off into different futures, and will they hear at some time rumours of each other’s existence, or perhaps even meet again?
Hello John it’s interesting to read about your incomplete writing. Were you ever published? I used to enjoy John Wyndham and a lot of other science fiction in my teens. In my early twenties I discovered feminist science fiction which I enjoyed even more.
Hi, Lynrose! No, I abandoned that particular project, for various reasons, although of course during my university teaching days I had lots of other things accepted. Reading that old stuff has been interesting, however, in that it has encouraged me to think that I might write something again.