Wondering and wandering

Tuesday, March 9th., Chiltern Court, London.

A sunny morning and I walked out to get ideas. Regents Park. I haven't spent much time there since the move, but I like its informality. Strolled along the Broad Walk and almost felt as if I were on holiday. Mainly young women pushing perambulators, nannies in the main I suppose. So what are the mothers doing who would otherwise be out here with their children? Difficult job being a nanny I should think. Not the work as such, but the social relationships, getting the balance right with family and other servants. Increasingly difficult with the way society is changing. Servants are rapidly becoming a thing of the past.

I noticed today that I am talking to myself more. I don't mean the internal dialogue which I suppose everybody has, but actually talking out loud. Is this a sign of ageing? Probably. I think I do it most frequently in my study, when something is on my mind and I pace about from one side of the room to the other. It is not quite a 'real' conversation because it seems most often to be a case of seeking confirmation of a point of view or a decision taken. I find myself saying things like "What do you think AB?" and hearing myself reply "Absolutely right, just what I think". It seems perfectly natural at the time but is a bit odd set down in writing. I wouldn't mind asking other men of my age if they do it, but perhaps they would think me peculiar. Rivers would be the very man for this. I could ask him without any embarrassment.

When I think of it I don't really have any intimate friends now, and sometimes feel quite lonely, which is strange for a person who spends most of his spare time 'going out'. No point trying to talk to Dorothy about it. She would listen of course but wouldn't be able to imagine herself as me and would respond superficially. Would Marguerite have understood had we still been together? I don't know. 

Internal dialogue. That is an interesting phenomenon it seems to me. Personally, I can't imagine how I would think at all without language, and yet I must have done so I suppose before I learned to speak. And what about our distant ancestors? It increasingly appears that the evolution of man has taken place over many millions of years, but language is relatively recent as far as I have understood things. So how did men think before they had language? In the same way that animals do now I suppose. I cannot imagine what that would be like. It seems that once the bridge has been crossed into speech then there is no going back.

A dinner party

Wedesday, November 24th., 12b George Street, London.

At work on film all morning. Lunched with Pinker and Swinnerton at Reform, and then I got information from Shufflebotham about nursing home for my film.

Barrie, Elgar, Massingham, Hy. Head and Sassoon to dinner, and Rivers came afterwards. Massingham had forgotten the date, had to be rung up and arrived forty five minutes late. Effects of the drinking of course. I don't think I have ever seen such a rapid decline in a man. He held up well enough but was by no means the witty dinner guest of old. 

Large quantities of interesting things were said at this dinner. None of them by me. Some of the fellows stopped until 12.25. I smoked too much. But I have survived it all right. Barrie said he never went out at all except to dine with me once a year. Elgar is fine, though in fact they all were.  



 

In good form

Friday, November 17th., Eltham, Torquay.

Presently staying with the Phillpotts's for a few days. I have a large bedroom with a prime view over Torbay. Always relaxing here but I am working as well. I feel in great form for work. In fact I feel pretty well in general at the moment. The new bachelor lifestyle suits me well. Yesterday I took Mrs. P. out shopping and we became a little flirtatious, being about the same age. Nothing serious of course but it does the spirit good to be able to make a sort of proto-sexual connection; I thought I had lost the knack of it! And of course there is Adelaide, the daughter, late 20s I should think. Quite pretty and I think she has a preference for older men. Interesting that this sort of thing is going around in my head nowadays.

Dorothy has a small part at the Kingsway Theatre, but she couldn't really have come here with me anyway. Some proprieties must be observed. For some reason we got onto talking about Ruskin last evening and Eden rehearsed the old story about his unconsummated marriage with Effie Gray. Allegedly he was completely unmanned at the sight of her naked body, or more specifically her pubic hair. I must say that I think it apocryphal. More likely in my view that he was a suppressed homosexual, married for reasons of convention an undeveloped young woman, and just couldn't do the necessary when it came to it. One wonders how these stories arise and are propagated. If I have time and opportunity I will try to find out some facts.

Dorothy was trying to advise me about treatment for my stammer the other evening. Nice of her to make the effort but, as I said to her, I think I have considered or indeed tried all possible therapies. Any treatment will do you a certain amount of good for a time, because the affection is extremely responsive to hetero-suggestion. But none that I have ever heard of will act when it is really needed. I used to discuss this matter with the late W.H.R. Rivers, one of the greatest specialists in nervous affections. He could never suggest anything better than to forget the trouble and leave it alone. As he stammered himself he would be likely to know all there was to be known. Also he was a very intimate friend of mine and a really great man. The affection is due to a defect of the brain, which gives contradictory orders simultaneously when disturbed in a certain way. I have even tried hypnotism. Why the subject is not more readily studied than it is by experts I have never understood for the affection is very widespread (among males - it is very rare among females). The nervous strain of it is of course continuous and severe - very severe. The said strain is too much for many sufferers and they retire to the completest privacy that they can arrange for. It is always a marvel to me that I, with my aciute general sensitiveness, have risen above this enormous handicap and am even, inspite of it, recognised as a great 'persuader' of people.