Observing

Friday, January 6th., Cadogan Square, London.

The core of the morning spent at the barber's, who wanted to see my wireless; so I told him to come along any evening. He is a man of quiet but extreme likes and dislikes. He loathes 'jazz'. He said he had been to see skate-waltzing on the rink in Grosvenor Road, and how it was the loveliest thing in movement he had ever seen. He said that Jellicoe was there, and Jellicoe had ' passed a remark about how nice it was to see', etc. 'Passed a remark' is a great phrase of his class. I love it.

Walked all along King's Road nearly to World's End, and got a few good ideas for my short story. I also observed the interior of the scores and scores of small shops. The majority of them had customers within (5.15 to 6 p.m.), more customers on the return journey than on the outward.


Additionally for January 6th., see 'Literary lion' -
http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/literary-lion.html

Henry James. At Pinkers. Very slow talker. Beautiful French. Expressed stupefaction when I said I knew nothing about the middle-class, and said the next time he saw me he would have recovered from the stupefaction, and the discussion might proceed. Said there was too much to say about everything - and that was the thing most felt by one such as he, not entirely without - er - er - er - perceptions. When I said I lay awake at nights sometimes thinking of the things I had left out of my novels, he said that all my stuff was crammed, and that when the stuff was crammed nothing more could be put in, and so it was all right. He spoke with feeling about his recent illness. "I have been very ill". Said he was now settled down in Cheyne Walk, and had one or two faithful, dependable servants, and so on. An old man, waning, but with the persistent youthfulness that all old bachelors have.