Thinking

Thursday, October 27th., Cadogan Square, London.

I went to South Kensington Museum to think, and I thought. Then I wrote the penultimate section of my story "The Wind" in about an hour. I dined with Geoffrey Russell at the Reform, and we went to the Lener concert together at the Queen's Hall. Fine concert. All Mozart. I thought that exclusive Mozart would be trying, but it wasn't.

Marconi House - aerials of the BBC

One of the things I thought about was the development of communications. Recent reports coming to my attention have described broadcasting as the enemy of all other forms of entertainment, diversion, and instruction. Theatrical managers, music hall managers, cinema managers, concert givers, book publishers, clergymen, lecturers, all complain of broadcasting, that insidious newcomer which is cannibal in that it eats up its fellow creatures.

We are used to the telephone and the telegram. I have at home a radio receiver and I hear that there are experiments to transmit pictures. All this has come about in my lifetime and I wonder what will happen in the future? This is the sort of thing that Wells and Huxley write about so convincingly but I doubt that even their fertile imaginations are adequate to the task. What will be the effects on society of simpler communication? Homogeneity I suspect, which may be a good thing if there is a general 'rounding up' of knowledge and awareness, rather than a reduction to the lowest common denominator. What about the book? Will people still read in 100 years time?

I have been reading Margaret Kennedy's new novel "Red Sky at Morning". This is her third novel. To my mind there is too much dialogue in this book. And I have failed to discern a theme. Nor am I sure which of the characters are hero and heroine. There is hardly a thrill of excitement until about two thirds of the way through the book. These criticisms are grave especially when one admires the talent of an author as much as I admire that of Miss Kennedy.