Recently I was sent the magazine of the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, from Carleton University in Canada. I did my MA there in 1963-4. Thumbing through it I noticed an article about sociology at Carleton (the subject of my degree) and was surprised so see that the writer believed that the sociology department there had been founded the year after my return to Britain. In the spirit of being informative and helpful rather than indignation I sent off an email to the editor, suggesting a couple of corrections. To my surprise I received a response a couple of days later.
They had been delighted to receive my message, and have invited me to send an article with my reminiscences of my time in Ottawa. This has had a remarkable effect on me, releasing a steady flow of memories and associations from that period ….events, faces, experiences. So I sat down this afternoon to look through some things I still have from that time, and to begin making notes about things about which I might write. Although I was only there for one academic year it is quite remarkable, in retrospect, the range of important things in my make-up that date back to that year.
One thing is remarkable, however, for its absence. I have no sense at all that Canadian art left any kind of imprint on my awareness or development. I discovered, and was impressed by, the art of the native peoples, but that really remained a matter for contemplation rather than a legacy I embraced for myself. One reason for that probably has to do with the fact that Ottawa was such a cultural backwater in the early sixties. There was no major gallery in the city, and I do recall that when the National Theatre visited it was necessary for them to perform in a school hall. Things have changed now, I hear. It might be nice to go back and see.
*The line is from Leonard Cohen, of course, who first appeared on the edge of my consciousness at that time, although I didn’t really become the fan I am today until the year after my return to Leicester. “Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past. We swore to each other then our love would surely last. You went on loving: I went on a fast, now I’m too thin and your love is too vast.” I love that man’s sense of humour.