the Hamilton book
Scottie Bowman (bowman@mail.indigo.ie)
Wed, 01 Apr 1998 08:32:02 +0000
Talk about falling in love .....
Once I passed 60 I assumed I was safe from the follies of elderly
males. But now Camille delivers not just one but *two* body blows
to my equilibrium. She expresses a view of chemical psychiatry
that I thought was confined to cynical old analysts like myself -
& she overeggs the pudding altogether by suggesting a secret
illustriousness of identity that makes me dizzy with flattery.
But then, Goddamit Godot, having set me up nicely, she knocks
me down with this: `...If you read further into the Hamilton
biography (and I dip into that self centred hatchet job as little
as possible) ...'
It's some years since I read the book & I don't have it by me
for reference but her description - `self-centred hatchet job' -
doesn't at all fit my memory of it. Nor does it fit with an even
hazier memory of my one meeting with the man himself in
a London pub almost 40 years ago. He was introduced as
(I think) literary editor of (again, I think) the Spectator &
part-time poet. He was so self-effacing that my dominant
impression remains one of great kindness & courtesy to a
young punk like me who had not the smallest claim on his time
or attention.
Surely one can express a little scepticism about what looks to
some of us like contrived reclusiveness without being labelled
an axe man ?
Scottie B.