Looking up Larkin the other day put me in mind of Alan Bennett and for want of anything else I was just reading his diaries again in the bath, or should that be dipping into them.
Aside from him being my celebrity stalker a while ago out and about in Camden he’d follow me about and I couldn’t get on train to Leeds without our Alan spying on me from his 1st class seat!
Whilst reading his diaries (getting my own back for all his prying!) I remembered that it’s around now that’s it’s his birthday; so in the way of a birthday tribute I offer you my sub Bennettian AB anecdotes in the form of diary entries.
Nov 6th 1991
To the Playhouse in Leeds with G, L, M and co to the revival of Alan Bennett’s’ “40 years on”. The plays excellent although not sure my literary knowledge is up to his spoofs.
In the bar afterwards I see AB and decided quite out of characters to go and quickly tell him how much I love his work and thank him in general. I sidle up to him at the counter and am about to blurt out my thanks when one of the actors swings him away to join the rest of the cast.
Later I see him leaving and make my way out to try to catch him, but he’s saying his goodbyes and so I don’t disturb him and head for my bus. The stop is at the foot of long flight of steps and as I wait at the bottom. I see AB making his way down the steps. So I screw up my courage and wait the excruciating long time it takes for the Mac clad author to make his way down the ill lit steps. As he reaches the bottom and steps into the sodium light, it’s too late for me to stop myself saying “excuse me Mr Bennett I loved the play”. Only to realise it’s a tramp, who taking me for a friendly sort pesters me for the age it takes for my bus to come, for the price of a drink, I pay up and sit chastened on the bus all the way home.
Aug 12th 1998
To Salt Aire with S and G to visit Titus Salt’s model worker’s village and also to see the Hockney exhibition. After we’ve been round the gallery we are in the bookshop which also houses some DH prints and paintings. It’s a grand affair thick with the smell of lilies in large vases surrounding glossy art books on antique tables.
Now because of their age, looks, sensibility and having been born less than 10 miles apart Bennett and Hockney are often confused for each other. In fact AB writes about this in one of his diaries; to show the similarities and make a joke of all this in gallery there is large photo of David and Alan sat next each other. Well while I was looking at the picture two retired ladies amble up and in a stage whisper one of them says to other
“Ooh look he’s there with that Alan Bennett, ya do know he’s one of those gays as well?”
“Ooh, his not is he? How d’ya know “ her friend replies
“Ooh, int it obvious, haven’t ya heard him talk”.
So there you go Alan mistaken for a tramp and a lisping Larry Grayson clone in your own home county!
Have a Happy birthday and thanks for all your work (there I said it at last)
There’s a “down and out” in the Merrion Centre who owes you a drink.
Aside from him being my celebrity stalker a while ago out and about in Camden he’d follow me about and I couldn’t get on train to Leeds without our Alan spying on me from his 1st class seat!
Whilst reading his diaries (getting my own back for all his prying!) I remembered that it’s around now that’s it’s his birthday; so in the way of a birthday tribute I offer you my sub Bennettian AB anecdotes in the form of diary entries.
Nov 6th 1991
To the Playhouse in Leeds with G, L, M and co to the revival of Alan Bennett’s’ “40 years on”. The plays excellent although not sure my literary knowledge is up to his spoofs.
In the bar afterwards I see AB and decided quite out of characters to go and quickly tell him how much I love his work and thank him in general. I sidle up to him at the counter and am about to blurt out my thanks when one of the actors swings him away to join the rest of the cast.
Later I see him leaving and make my way out to try to catch him, but he’s saying his goodbyes and so I don’t disturb him and head for my bus. The stop is at the foot of long flight of steps and as I wait at the bottom. I see AB making his way down the steps. So I screw up my courage and wait the excruciating long time it takes for the Mac clad author to make his way down the ill lit steps. As he reaches the bottom and steps into the sodium light, it’s too late for me to stop myself saying “excuse me Mr Bennett I loved the play”. Only to realise it’s a tramp, who taking me for a friendly sort pesters me for the age it takes for my bus to come, for the price of a drink, I pay up and sit chastened on the bus all the way home.
Aug 12th 1998
To Salt Aire with S and G to visit Titus Salt’s model worker’s village and also to see the Hockney exhibition. After we’ve been round the gallery we are in the bookshop which also houses some DH prints and paintings. It’s a grand affair thick with the smell of lilies in large vases surrounding glossy art books on antique tables.
Now because of their age, looks, sensibility and having been born less than 10 miles apart Bennett and Hockney are often confused for each other. In fact AB writes about this in one of his diaries; to show the similarities and make a joke of all this in gallery there is large photo of David and Alan sat next each other. Well while I was looking at the picture two retired ladies amble up and in a stage whisper one of them says to other
“Ooh look he’s there with that Alan Bennett, ya do know he’s one of those gays as well?”
“Ooh, his not is he? How d’ya know “ her friend replies
“Ooh, int it obvious, haven’t ya heard him talk”.
So there you go Alan mistaken for a tramp and a lisping Larry Grayson clone in your own home county!
Have a Happy birthday and thanks for all your work (there I said it at last)
There’s a “down and out” in the Merrion Centre who owes you a drink.
7 comments:
Nice! I've never read his diaries - must get round to it at some point.
So you're from Leeds then?! As opposed to Manchester, land of Stewart Maconie...;)
Mainly Barnsley but I've lived in Leeds too, *whispers* don't tell anyone but I was born lancashire but that was long time ago and and I don't have any dodgy Manc ways unlike the technically a scouser Maconie!
Wasn't Maconie born in Wigan?
I've never had the pleasure of visiting Barnsley. Although I have spent quality time in Huddersfield, which I believe is nearbye.
So does the shadow of Michael Parkinson loom large over Barnsley?!
CR:
In his book Maconie admits the hospital he was born in is just over the border in Merseyside thus making him a scouser! Barnsley is a great place check out the sculpture park, the market and of course the footy team. As to parky he's lived in Reading for 30 years so I think it's the media more than him making the link also being a tyke he's gobshite (guilty your honour) which never helps.
Well somebody's got to live in Reading...
bless. i think you've just accused AB of being a gay tramp.
x
"the gay tramp" wasn't that a children's nursery song they use to sing in 30's ;)
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