2.7 façade

Thinking about her....What do I think of her...what’s going to happen next?..am I entering onto a relationship...has it happened already? Silence, four walls and a small window, suffocating heat. Sweat. Should I play things ‘as they come along’...what do I think of us?

Sat on the bus....oppressive heat...offensive holidaymakers. I’m sitting next to Susan, shoulder to shoulder; she is looking at me in a way that I want her to – betraying no trace of what she thought of last night. I feel no inhibitions, not even the slight increase in adrenalin flow that accompanies the build up to an important question. Yes, you are very nice. I ask her if she would like to go out for another country walk and she is answering a positive ‘yes’. No radical effect on me, I do not even feel a slight reaction to it. No relief in tension because I am completely relaxed.......

We went for a country ramble in the evening, but returned early, where I spent a couple of hours talking to her parents. I think they were at least satisfied, most likely impressed. There is now a state of tranquillity of mind to find more of myself beneath the façade of before.

1.7 Kalahari of the World.

Got talking to Susan H. Today about English mainly. In a physical sense, the overabundance of tourists on our bus throws us closer together. By a fortunate coincidence she is a reader of Fitzgerald’s novels, and we reached a harmonious stage when I told her that we were studying him for our A Levels.

Although we had only mentioned a vague exchange of books, I ventured to go round to her house and see her. This turned out to be very rewarding, because I found myself asking her out, whereupon she almost flung her homework aside and joined me.. The walk was less ‘romantic’, more ‘idyllic’ – along the cliffs to Danes Dyke then back across the meadows. We walked and talked – mainly about intelligent subjects. It’s so heart-warming to find an intellectual, a ‘femme savante’ among this barren wasteland – surely the intellectual Kalahari of the World.

16.6 bythe

WANTED!!!

REWARD: Moral satisfaction at having done a great service to humankind.

NAME; JOHN C BLYTHE (of Bridlington)

OCCUPATION; Professes to be a teacher of Chemistry at Bridlington School

FOR

Moral outrages, bullying, narrow-mindedness, bigotry, canting hypocrisy, megalomania, perverting of young people by ‘teaching’ out and out reaction.

14.6 rostrum

A day of great pride for me today...it was announced that I’ve been awarded the lower sixth form prize for History. Steve got English and, a little less surprisingly, French. Mo [teacher] was committed, I suppose to giving the prize to the one who gets the highest marks. I was very proud when they announced it, it means that I’ll be up on some rostrum or other on speech day (July 13th) shaking the hand of some sweaty palmed dignitary or other...I would be a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy it!

13.6 Hades ‘fish bar’

Descended in the Hades ‘fish bar’ (Oh! What a euphemism that has such unpleasant connotations!) No, it was bad, but not as bad as that.
What was significant today was a meeting with Tina on the bus home. I am in a bit of a dilemma now – things are reasonably ripe for me to begin a relationship with her, but there is that ever present barrier of age – she is still 13/14, chronologically speaking, although I would up that by a year if one talks about physical , mental age, etc. She is attractive on both physical and mental respects. I fell drawn towards her, but I have some forebodings about how things would turn out (or rather, after effects). And then I say to myself, “Sod the Rest, follow my desires”; then, “but what do I want?” A vicious (?) circle is set up.
I told her, amongst some well timed sincere flattery, that were she older I would take her. She appears so fresh and untouched, as it encapsulating early days of Spring. I think I am being caught on an emotional weak point at the moment by her, because I have been affected by the spring days spent among friends, full of Joie de Vivre...and yet there appears to be some longing, deep down. I want to be alone, but with someone.

11.6 Hell

Travelling on the bus to school today, I sat and talked with Tina. It was a pleasant experience, although the atmosphere is far from conducive to conversation – lack of privacy is one thing, because I know that people who say nothing, hear what others say, willy-nilly.
A strange feeling in the sense that I would have regarded the time ripe to ask that question, but I am not, so this is a purely hypothetical drift.
As I will be in Hell for the weekend, I wrung the last drop of enjoyment from today, reading a nice weight of ‘King John’ in the evening – a play which, partly because of the intense patriotism expressed in some passages, has great appeal for me. I don’t find the terms communist – internationalist – patriotic contradictory.
Saw a film rendering of ‘Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf?’, a play which hits me somewhere – I don’t know (or possibly don’t want to know?) where, but it hurts. A very good play, but I find it shattering to read. Apart from a few discrepancies with the text, the Burton-Taylor version was very good. Honey was superbly casted and acted, although could be construed as attractive, when is meant to be ‘plain’. Nick, I didn’t like, mainly because he didn’t fit into the mental image I had of him from reading.

9.6 35mm

Thursday 10 June 1976
Took some rather silly photographs at school this dinner-time, using Chris M ’s 35mm camera – which means that the definition will be very good. We had numerous props such as a German helmet and luger (that worked) and other very silly articles. They’ll be ready in a week or so, so no doubt some of them will be appearing in the back of this ‘book’.
I’ve been thinking about getting a camera that’s a good 35mm one, so I can build up a slide collection rather than taking prints all the time. The problem is that projectors tend to be a bit pricey, so I’d be better getting a small viewer.
Didn’t get as much work done today as I should have done, considering that the exams start a week on Monday. They should be interesting.

7.6 blessed

A blessed release today, for we are back at school. At last, some intellectual stimuli, friends and leisure – freedom from overwhelming physical tiredness. It was very characteristic of Mo [teacher nice!!] to carry on as if he had been turned off last week in mid-sentence and suddenly turned on again. This holiday seems to have dragged on for months, so I am glad to be back.
Back to work now, because the exams are in a couple of weeks. I did little revision over the holidays (apart from a little history). The headthing has made the truly magnanimous offer of allowing us to wear no ties this half term. This concession moves me to tears almost because of its genuine generosity!!

30.5 grumble

There is very little point in filling the next seven days in, because when doing repetitive manual labour, every day is the same. Still, at £4 a day, I can’t grumble...well I can but it would only be to fill in space!

29.5 Canada

Started work today. There’s little I can say, because one summer job is just like the rest...drudgery with a few lighter moments. At least there are no people down there who are paid to be bossed. I predict that I will lose track of time next week, so I am going to have to keep track of reading progress instead.
Met Tim, Nige and Steve in the evening and went to the Star. Met a couple of their Canadian friends who are over here for a couple of weeks – I never know Tim had been to Canada. Went back to Tim’s place (by now there were nine of us!) for drinks. His mother put on some nice grub. Got back to [Uncle] Bryan’s about half past one after ascending four flights of stairs in pitch darkness.

28.5 Spenserian

Got sucked into the “Faerie Queen” today. It is really enjoyable reading and the added dimension of historical allegory, coupled with the sheer weight of romantic chivalric adventure, kept my interest for many an hour. The so called Spenserian verse of decasyllabic nine line stanzas has a lulling effect. There is no logical reason why my interest should be held for so long by a romantic, thousand page poem...hmm! Another countdown today, but one of hours rather than weeks...work!

Went out in the evening with Steve, here and there, until we decided to go for a steak. Stayed at Grandad’s. Looked back in the evening and said to myself that I had really made something of today.

27.5 Ascension

As it was Ascension day, we suffered the usual Bible reading. What hypocrisy exists in the form of our school assembly. Were I a religionist, I would take more serious objection...a group of masters stand on a platform, some bad, fewer good and the majority ugly. Prayers are said, after Wood has controlled the noise by two claps of the hand and a hearty nervous twitch, after the hymn. This consists of the large majority of the school standing and not taking part as their conscience dictates, yet forced to stand with an open hymn book. A man will say prayers for Capitalism, complacency and the Queen. Often prayers are said for patience and tolerance by a man representing others who spit in the face of the two scared virtues..after which he (WHB) has been known to beat senseless a pupil in the first lesson. I think Goneril put it aptly: “Sick, O! Sick!” [Shakespeare 'King Lear']'

25.5 hate-cricket!

Cricket was rained off today, which gave me a good chance to get some valuable work done. I’ve done reams and reams of essay, account, criticism and discussion which, for the most part, have been read by none other than the form tutor and myself. Besides, who wants to read them besides this intimate circle (if a couple can ever constitute a circle that is); however I plan to keep them to see how my views mature over the years. They may even be of more general interest in small scholarly circles if I have (great?) success in that field...yet how many MA’s papers are of” general interest”?
A sluggish evening, although I did read some of a ‘Che’ biography. For an American writer, it was surprisingly less biased than I expected.

24.5 fish bar

I finally arranged a job – fish bar, which will mean hot, hard and long work throughout Summer. Still, a job’s a job. Only £3 a day to start, but I don’t expect to be on that long.
Countdown starts now for the exams, which are only four weeks away. Most people do only cursory revision for lower sixth exams, but to me it’s a matter of principle – I’ll work, but I am not going to flog myself to death. They should be quite enjoyable, especially English. The one complaint I have to make about the English syllabus is that it can easily – as it offers no opportunity for creative writing – breed numbers of pedants. Much as I like Steve, he is rapidly heading in that direction.

23.5 A very, very black day today

A very, very black day today in our house; not a word was spoken, but that it choked down a rising in the throat. I found a piece of sandstone which was very appropriate. Very easy to work, but what should I have put? I settled for ‘Cat’ - she knew no real name – which would always for me bring back happy (and sad) memories. She has a spacious plot in our back garden (c.3/4 acre) of about 8 sq ft. Her spirit will exist only as that which remains in our memories – now intact, but crumbling and fading month by month, until only the most prominent facts, features and recollections of emotions remain. She is asleep now.

22.5 cat

The job situation is getting pretty bad, I’m only trying for a summer job – I’m pretty disillusioned with it so far, so God knows what this year’s 45,000 (and last year’s thousands) will go through finding no jobs. Looks like I’ll be working for capitalism this year.
Our nameless cat got run over today. Very hard to express in words what I felt. I cried, but something seemed very wrong – perhaps hinging on the fact that when I arrived home she was at the bottom of a four foot grave. God, everything seemed so void and empty. After two years, you get to know and come to love a pet – everything from her favourite food to the way she used to leap in two bounds onto the chair, then onto the windowsill. She’d sit tore for hours, silhouetted against the sunlight. The sun would set behind her, providing a warming sight.
I thought how comforting it could feel if I believed in an after world...a god. Yet who can believe in a God who does such as this?
Anyway I was at Trev’s and half drunk when I received the news which lessened the immediate impact

21.5 happy medium

Went to Joff Latus’ party in the evening up at his place – in a large barn. Having heard that there would be a lot of girls there, I conditioned myself for the appropriate tactics. With the type of social situation, i.e. very casual, loud music, beer, lots of ‘hard types’ and type of birds that go with them, I chose the blatant, animalistic approach and was quite prepared to carry it out to the full.
Instead, the boy-girl ratio must have been less than six to one, of which six (of the six girls present) were already committed before the event. It turned out, as a result, to be a mere booze up. I didn’t get drunk, although I had a lot to drink. My self-confidence in the event was surprising – having not experienced the Bempton disco type of social (non?) – event for a year.
I do not intend to revert to animalism like the 1975 variety ( which in a transitory sense, was quite successful), but on the other hand, I am going to shake off the false introvertism that I have been pretending to possess since hanging around with Steve R a lot. I am going to re-awake and find a happy medium.

20.5 Trivialising

Talked to Sarah on the bus home tonight, a measure of how well I have made contact (through auto-suggestion) came when she invited me to a party* at her house on Sunday. That should be very interesting. I am finding a book one, ’A Tender is the Night’ [A-Level] situation becoming more plausible and attractive. It’s quite unbelievable how easy I have made contact with her (of Margaret). Admittedly she is in a position where, in a period of physical upheaval and change of peer group, she needs to make as many friends as possible. Partly she has enough ‘breeding’ to cover up what many girls, I know, make a blatant show of. (Here I refer to an abstract unpalatable quantity of behaviour and attitude, not tits).
PYTHON IS BACK!! Albeit repeats repeated in a different order. Trivialising the war this week. Oh, the irony!!
*i.e. two people + a horse (Hmm?! – Ed)

19.5 intellectual

Had a ramble in the school grounds this dinner time with a few friends. There are two things that make the petty, bureaucratic childish regime of Thompson + henchmen bearable: my friends and the intellectual rewards I receive from learning. There must be some alternative to what we have, there really must! An ideal situation would be greater teacher-pupil equality, the introduction of personality-suitability tests for prospective teachers. The latter measure would ease all tensions in school by removing bastards like Chipps, Blythe, Latheron, Thompson.....etc., (Wouldn’t it be much quicker to list the masters you do like? - Ed). There would be less and less need for external discipline as self-discipline increased. Of course there has also to be the social motivation among pupils to either gain academic qualifications, or (being of lower intelligence) have plenty of chances to develop other (perhaps manual) skills.

18.5 fair

It has not taken me long to lapse back into total apathy concerning cricket. What a waste of time and money. Still, it’s nice to get out in the sun on a warm day. Not only is the game a ridiculous one, but it has hateful connotation like Blythe (to whom goes the ignoble ‘honour’ of being the only ‘man’ against which I bear evil). I will see him burn in hell flames on earth for what he is and represents. Justice will be severe, but measured.
Started a conversation with Sarah today. We’ve exchanged looks and smiles, so I judged the time right to end our stranger ship and become friends. I cannot really judge what impression I made, but I estimate that it was not a bad one, at least. What surprised me is that she doesn’t talk like Them at all, but nevertheless was well spoken. Is she physically attractive? Hmm, that’s a difficult question. Let’s say she is a very long way from being ugly and that can serve as a base on which to build. She is very fair in most physical attributes and at first glance she strikes me as being made of some airy substance. Yet she is real, slim...and were not Margaret Thatcher ugly, I would have mentioned some similarity in face. First impressions – to sum up – not too bad at all!

17.5 farm

Fruitless trek down town to see about the Hilton’s job. It’s really loathsome to pander to the petty capitalists of Brid., and the system as a whole in this manner. Youth are really exploited, often working for little more than beer money. What embitters me is that we are forced to do so out of financial need. We cannot spend any reasonable amount of tome (as the horribly tautological phrase runs) studying. Our society does not cater for young intellectuals – why are there no jobs available to us in which we have to use our cerebrums rather than hands?
I’d work on a farm, so long as I knew the food was going direct to the people with no profits for a few small farmer: people’s farms. In shops, a factory or any mode of production/exchange, so long as they were not capitalist owned. I don’t want to use clichés about “peoples ownership” but this seems very appropriate.

16.5 Charlotte Rampling

Again another day of work. Read a few hours of Chateaubriand. “Atala” was quite moving at parts. What is clichéd and hackneyed to us, was probably fresh and original when he wrote it – all this about “les pleurs fondouient leurs roues” gets a bit of a drag at times. “World at War” wasn’t too bad, although it looks like the recovery from last week’s dull helping and the lull before next week’s storm - the death camps. I have to admit that my stomach can’t take that sort of thing. It needs only one dead body to make sweat appear on my forehead. This is usually followed by a sleepless night, my half-awake state being

pubs, rough:; The Old Globe Inn-Steve R. missing?

haunted by the most terrifying pictures. Horribly charred cinders will somehow manage a grisly smile or a dead body appear from nowhere. Oh well, one of the penalties we people of rich imagination have to pay!

Went to see “The Night Porter” (Dirk Bogarde, Charlotte Rampling” – boy did she do a lot of rampling! Some scenes were very explicit; even on the subject of homosexuality. Not a bad film, though very slow at times. Uncomfortable seats didn’t help either.