Could it really be 40 years since one was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature? Borne up the stairs on the shoulders of John Julius Norwich and Sir Roy Strong, I was inducted by Lady Antonia Fraser and the late Paddy Leigh Fermor, resplendent in their ceremonial robes. Meanwhile, I myself was clad in the society’s prestigious tweed ‘posing pouch’, passed down from generation to generation, unscrubbed.
The Society has long been a sanctuary of civilisation, allowing a wide range of authors, from James Lees-Milne to Debo Devonshire, to mix and mingle in a spirit of inky camaraderie. So imagine my horror upon hearing that the RSL plans to change its 200-year-old rule and let the ‘general public’ pick its Fellows! Goodness knows, I am all for diversity (dread word!). I have the greatest respect for Rishi Sunak, to name but one. Nevertheless, I feel sure that ‘gritty’ northern novelists, ‘rap’ poets and the like would, through no fault of their own, feel ill at ease in the company of such distinguished homegrown scriveners as Andrew Roberts and Annie Glenconner. Is it not time to think of these poor outsiders for a change, and to save them from discomfort?
It is too often forgotten that HRH The Duke of York is a highly cultured young man. It may surprise many of his more ‘woke’ (!) detractors to know that he can recite the first few lines of Rudyard Kipling’s ‘If’, virtually off by heart, and a fair bit of the last couple of lines, too.
Earlier this week, I was privileged to have luncheon with the Duke in the discreet private dining room in the basement of the Garrick, where he has been under lock and key for the duration.
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