|
Report Number 14
MAY 2004
The du Maurier Festival: in its eighth year and
the best yet . . .
Although it’s not long since my last report I thought it worth writing up the
du Maurier Festival while it was fresh in my mind. This was its eighth year and
the general impression seems to be that it was the best yet. Attendances were
high, the weather was fine and one got an indefinable sense that the whole thing
was settling into a groove. I met one American from upstate New York who had
come specially for every single Festival and there were many other visitors who
had obviously got into the habit of coming every year, catching up with familiar
faces and places and getting to know new ones.
Because I was so busy I only actually sat in one audience which was for a talk
in the town hall by my old friend and editor Ion Trewin. A smallish audience but
a select and well-informed one which produced really intelligent questions about
quite arcane details of the Alan Clark diaries which Ion edited.Happily it looks
as if he is going to be the editor on a new book I’m about to start for
Weidenfeld.
My own events kicked off with a Monday after-lunch session on after-dinner
speaking prompted by my Folio Society anthology. The other speakers were Bishop
Bill of Truro and Miles Kington. Both of them were marvellous – funny,
self-deprecating and, in the case of the Bishop almost alarmingly risqué. As
Miles said to me afterwards only a Bishop could have got away with some of his
stories. You needed to be in purple and a dog-collar. This was held in the big
tent and we certainly had more than 400 in the audience. That evening Penny put
on dinner mainly for old Reuters and Hong Kong hands but also including Miles.A
good time was had by all and Miles not only sent a generous thank-you later but
also mentioned the festival in the opening paragraph of his column, saying that
it was one of the nicest and best-organised he had ever been to.
Next morning I launched “Death and the Visiting Fellow” with a natter in the
Town Hall accompanied by readings from our local Troy Player, Jenny Turner, and
followed by drinks and a signing at the Marina Hotel. Thirty or forty people I
suppose, so fairly intimate but I seemed to sign quite a few books, Jenny read
as beautifully as ever, making my words sound much better than when I look at
them on the printed page.
On Wednesday, the sixtieth anniversary of the death of Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch,
I said a few words to a packed Town Hall (over ninety) and read Q’s
introduction to “The Delectable Duchy”. Afterwards Joan Coombes who wrote
the history of the Royal Fowey Yacht Club, of which Q was Commodore for many
years, spoke briefly and I was magisterially rebuked by Miss King, former
headmistress of the local primary school because I had forgotten to mention the
‘Q’Memorial Trust which dishes out money for worthy Cornish literary
projects. I knew I’d forget even though I’d had a phone call from Miss King
a few days earlier giving me stern instructions about plugging the little
charity. Actually it was quite a good omission because it gave Miss King a sound
platform from which to remonstrate and she did it rather splendidly. Then about
forty off us walked to the Bodinnick Ferry and up the hill to the “Q”
memorial where Ann from Book Ends of Fowey who had organised the Town Hall
events with her husband David laid a wreath of valerian and Kits Browning,
Daphne du Maurier’s son poured on a libation of brandy- both favourites of the
old man’s and I read out the stirring words on the great granite cross. Then
we adjourned to the Ferry Inn to drink his health.
Next day I wasn’t performing so I and our house guest, Jonathan Sharp, walked
the coast path to Polkerris and in the evening we watched the second episode of
the Carlton Village Cricket series prompted by my book. On Friday I was back on
stage in the smaller of the two tented theatres to talk about “Words and
Wickets” with Jeremy Paul and Simon Williams. First, however, I had to pay
tribute to Judith Cook, who, sadly and unexpectedly, died on Wednesday morning
just before she was due to speak during a day of crime-writing events which she
had initiated and helped to organise. Simon suggested that a special annual
lecture be established in her memory which seemed a good idea as she was a loyal
friend to the festival. This event also seemed to go well and was followed by
yet another supper party when the three speakers and Penny, were joined by
Simon’s wife Lucy and the Brownings.
Now, as I write on a bright summery day overlooking the beautiful harbour, the
crowds and our friends have departed leaving us feeling mildy anti-climactic and
hung-over. My condition wasn’t improved by a lengthy medical yesterday to do
with some insurance or other. The very nice and efficient nurse said that
although my regular walks had obviously been good for my lung power, my blood
pressure had gone back up. Even more alarmingly she made a satisfactory hole in
a vein in my right arm but was quite unable to get any blood out of it.
I feel there is some dreadful symbolism involved here but perhaps in view of the
blood-sweating activity of the previous week, it wasn’t altogether surprising.
To-night I get the sleeper for London and Guildford, editors, bookshops, Ruth
Dudley Edwards’ launch party and perhaps an hour or so of the Lord’s test
against New Zealand. Not exactly restful but fun all the same.
Tim Heald
May 2004
|
