Scatterbrain: a letter from somewhere in the British countryside
The imperative to write
I’ve only managed to start writing this week’s column1 on Friday 29th at 2pm. That is considerably late for my writing schedule. And I generally come to the page with some vague ideas of what I’ll write about. But this week has been a bit of a crazy one due to the Friday bank holiday, and I didn’t have time to get angry about anything. I could perhaps write about the ridiculous furore caused by people realising that an elite club is exclusivist, and the pathetic liberal attempts to make the club exclusivist the right way, but I have already written about the very British tradition of seeking validation by becoming be members of reactionary institutions. When there’s nothing to write about one can still write about writing. If it worked for Beckett it should work for me, right?