Bertie Pollock (6).
94. Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost Domenica had arranged to meet her old friend Dilly Emslie for coffee in the Patisserie Florentin in North West Circus Place. They had last met shortly after Domenica’s return from the Malacca Straits, and Domenica had given Dilly an account of her anthropological research project among contemporary pirates – a project that had ultimately led to the discovery that the pirates stole intellectual property rather than anything else. Dilly had greeted this news with some relief; it was she who had encouraged Domenica to take on a new piece of research in the first place, although she had not envisaged that she would choose to work among pirates. Had Domenica come to an unfortunate end, she would have felt a certain responsibility, and so now, if Domenica again showed signs of itchy feet, she would certainly not give her any encouragement.
320 Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost The two old friends had much to discuss.
“I take it that everybody behaved themselves while I was off in the Malacca Straits,” said Domenica, as she contemplated a small Italian biscuit that had been placed on the side of her plate.
“I’m afraid so,” said Dilly. “Or if they didn’t, then word hasn’t reached me yet.”
Domenica sighed. “So disappointing. That’s Edinburgh’s one, tiny little fault: most people behave rather well.”
“On the surface,” said Dilly, smiling. “But there are some people who are still capable of surprising one.”
“Next door, for example,” said Domenica. “My erstwhile friend, Antonia – she of the work-in-progress on the lives of the Scottish saints, and, incidentally, the person who removed a blue Spode teacup from my flat, but that’s another story – she has just finished an affair with a Polish builder, would you believe it? A man who had only one word of English, and that was
‘brick.’”
“The strong and almost silent type,” said Dilly.
Domenica laughed. “Yes, but it’s over now, and she’s decided to look for a better sort of man. Where she’ll find somebody like that, I have no idea, but hope springs eternal. Meanwhile, she continues to write about her saints.
“A very popular field at the moment,” she went on. “Do you know that Roger Collins is writing a great work on the lives of the popes? He’s got quite far with it. I had tea with Judith McClure and she showed me the new study they’ve built. There are two desks in it – one for Judith and one for Roger, with a rather comfortable-looking chair that Roger can swing round in while he’s writing about popes.”
“This city, taking a broad view of its boundaries, is becoming very productive,” said Dilly. “Roger Collins and his book on popes. And Allan Massie, with those marvellous historical novels of his. Even if the Borders claim him he’s almost Edinburgh.
And . . .”
“Ian Rankin writing all about criminal goings-on,” interjected Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost 321
Domenica. “Such an active imagination, and a very fine writer too. And then there’s Irvine Welsh, with his vivid dialogue!”
“Quite an impressive range,” said Dilly.
Domenica nodded. “And that’s only mentioning the books that make it into print. Imagine all the others. On which subject, do take a look at Stuart Kelly’s Book of Lost Books – it’s all about books that people have talked about but which were never really written or have been lost. Great missing masterpieces. Books that never were, but which may still contribute to their authors’
reputations!”
They moved on. Had Domenica seen the latest article by Lynne Truss?
“A real heroine,” Domenica said.
“Yes,” said Dilly. “But I can’t help but feel that she’s fighting a losing battle. The other day I saw an article about grammatical mistakes that had two grammatical mistakes in it. And these weren’t the examples – they were in the text itself.”
“Of course, language changes,” said Domenica. “And how do we decide what’s correct? What did Professor Pinker say about the songs of the whales?”
“Oh, I think I remember that,” said Dilly. “Didn’t he say that it would be nonsensical to point out that the whales made mistakes in their songs? That whale songs were what whales sang?”
“Something like that,” said Domenica. “He implied that grammatical rules should merely reflect the language that people used, because that’s where they came from in the first place.”
Dilly smiled. “So they weren’t handed down on tablets of stone? No Académie Française?”
“No. So if you were to ask me how I was, I suppose I could now reply either ‘Fine,’ which is what I’d actually say, as would you, or ‘Good,’ which is what lots of other people now say. They say: ‘I’m good.’” Domenica paused before continuing. “And I always think: how immodest! Because good is a moral quality when used without a noun.”
322 Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost
“There are some battles which are destined to be lost,” said Dilly.
Domenica lifted up her biscuit, examined it, and popped it into her mouth. “You’re right. And I suppose that if we don’t have an Académie Française to authorise words we must rely on what happens in the street, so to speak. Mind you, not all new words come into existence like that. Some new words are really very clever. Somebody must have made them up.”
Dilly thought for a moment. “Like Robinsonade. Do you know what that is? No? It’s a word for a book which deals with people being taken out of their normal surroundings and dumped somewhere where they have to struggle to survive. It comes from Robinson Crusoe. So Lord of the Flies is a Robinsonade.”
They sipped at their coffee. “Well, words aren’t the only things that change,” Domenica went on. “Look at Edinburgh.
What used to be a prim, maiden aunt of a city is now something quite different. Should we embrace these changes?”
“If they’re for the better,” said Dilly. “And lots of them are, surely?”
Domenica looked wistful. “Yes, some are. But I’m not sure if all of them are. I’m not sure if I think that crudity of language and attitude are things that we should embrace with enthusiasm. You know, I went to a Burns Supper a couple of years ago and I had to sit through a tirade against men from one of the speakers – a very aggressive performance. The speaker thought it appropriate to speak like that at a celebration of Burns’
birthday. But I found myself wondering: why is it considered smart to be crude and combative?”
“There are quite a lot of people like that,” said Dilly.
They were both silent for a while. The sun came in through a high window, slanting. There was the smell of olive oil, of freshly baked bread; there was the murmur of conversation at a nearby table. For a brief moment, Domenica closed her eyes and imagined a parallel Scotland, one of kindness and courtesy, where the vulgarity of our age had no place, other than a shameful Faster and Yet Faster – with a Surge of Panic 323
one. Was it wrong to dream of such a thing? Or was it just
“uncool”?
95. Faster and Yet Faster – with a Surge of Panic Matthew knew that he was moving too quickly, but he was like a man driving a car down a very steep hill; there were brakes, of course, but the car itself wanted to go faster and faster. He knew that what he should do with Elspeth Harmony was to get to know her better and then, if he was still sure that she was the right person, he could suggest whatever it was that he wanted to suggest. And what he wanted to suggest was marriage – just that. Matthew was now over twenty-eight. In fact, he was twenty-nine and would be thirty on his next birthday. Thirty!