Went with my son, Barnaby, to see Adolfo Barabino play at Hever Castle on a lovely sunny Sunday evening - thanks to Robert and Olivia Temple. The Moonlight Sonata, which he started with, slightly lacked Beethoven vigour, the pieces by Lipati were interesting - I didn't know he composed - but his interpretations of Chopin were the most sublime I've heard. After Adolfo withdrew his hands from the keys, the air was still full of Chopin, gently mutating, like a disembodied intelligence.
I showed Olivia the topiary chess board, and then later we went to the pub. I'd told Barnaby about some of Robert's accomplishments - his ability to divide 7 figure numbers by 7 figure numbers in his head, the fact that he practically invented the alternative history genre with The Sirius Mystery, his translations of Aesop and The Epic of Gilgamesh, and that his history of Chinese science is the standard text book in Chinese schools.
Barnaby sometimes has a slightly oblique way of looking at things. I found out later that he thought i meant that Robert could ONLY divide 7 figure numbers by 7 figure numbers.
Robert told me that Inner Traditions have great plans for his forthcoming book on the Sphinx. That publisher had published Schwaller de Lubicz's masterpiece The Temple of Man with Robert's introduction, and now are going to publish his own book in the same lavishly - not say slavishly ha ha - illustrated format. I'm sure that certain types of books are much better published by small independent publishers.
I told Robert about Lorna Byrne and he told us about some of his own work with disembodied intelligences. From the way he described them I think this remarkable man has communicated consciously not only with an archangel but two cherubim!
Robert and Olivia also talked about their meetings with remarkable comedians, including Charlie Chaplin and Frankie Howerd.
I'd made Barnaby watch some old episodes of Up Pompeii. He likes slick American sit-coms, well-rehearsed with high production values, and I think he was a bit puzzled by Up Pompeii. Are they making it up as they go along? he asked.
One of Frankie Howerd's qualities was that he made you worry for him. You wanted him to be brilliantly funny, but he felt vulnerable, as if he might fall down a hole.
I had some of the same feelings when I took Frank Skinner to perform in front of and meet the key buyers in the book chains. Would some of them be sniffy? In the event i needn't have worried. His love of language won them round. His words lie back on his thoughts with little between them - no literary or other artifice, no dishonesty and never any cliche. There is something of Dr Johnson about Frank Skinner - Dr J having been the subject of his MA thesis.
We recently had an e-mail exchange on whether knob - as in knob joke - should have a k on the beginning. It turns out that knob meaning penis comes from the idea of a protruberance like a door knob. The k is therefore canonical.
I'm glad we got that sorted out.
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