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fe\/'voices Rose Colliscalendar girl
Opal Fruits - March 4 1902 AFTER OSCAR WILDE’S death in 1900, Lord fessed to love him ‘beyond everything in the Alfred Douglas denounced their relationship, world’. Even this didn’t put Barney off her stride: ‘renounced’ his own homosexuality and began she suggested she should marry Douglas and searching for a suitable bride to set the seal on they and Olive could live happily a trois. The his ‘reformation’. The woman he couple politely declined and wed chose preferred to be known by in London on March 4 1902. Within her nickname, ‘Opal’ — the gema year, their only child, Raymond, stone of doom. As things turned was born; a bitter battle over the out, it was an appropriate omen boy broke out between his parents for this mismatched pairing. and Colonel Custance, Olive’s father, who loathed his son-in-law. Olive Custance was born in Not surprisingly, Raymond Doug1874. At 23, her first collection of las developed mental health probpoems, Opals, was published; a lems and was institutionalised sevfew years later, that Sapphist sueral times. premo, Natalie Barney, chanced upon the slim volume. She wrote Olive Custance left her husband Olive Custance to Custance, inviting her to join her in 1913. However, they enjoyed Lesbos-style poets’ circle in Paris. a reconciliation of sorts when, in Custance visited in 1901 and Barney, much tak- 1932, Custance moved to Viceroy Lodge, Hove, en with the ‘Opal’, was keen to expand their re- where her estranged husband lived. They met lationship beyond the purely poetic parameters. almost every day until her death on February 12 However, by this time, Custance had already 1944; six years later, her ashes were scattered been introduced to Alfred Douglas, and pro- in the sea off Brighton.
Tom Houghgrumpy old man
Manners maketh man I AM LUCKY enough to spend my time between London and Brighton and it never fails to amaze me how culturally different the two places can be. My journey to work takes me through South Kensington – not exactly a grubby, poverty stricken ghetto with put upon individuals attempting to eke out a meagre existence, but it was there, as I attempted to board a bus in a none too civilised melée (nobody actually queues anymore) that a particular Chelsea type of woman – black velvet head band, tweedy, sensible but chic suit, and a face like a robber’s dog simply shoved me - quite deliberately - out of the way explaining that she was in a hurry. It is at times like these that all witty retorts desert you utterly, fear renders you incapable of a scathing remark and my only revenge was to negotiate the retrieval of my Oyster card from the reader very very slowly, thereby alienating the entire bus. Now let us move southwards to Brighton. The elderly are allowed onto buses first, seats are given up for them; inter-generational conversations can be struck up. All in all a thoroughly more pleasant experience. Even the buses themselves seem to be polite. In London all you get is a blunt “NOT IN SERVICE” but Brighton & Hove declare “Sorry not in Service.” From the moment you step off the train in Brighton and begin to breathe the air you cannot see, the pace slows slightly and you find you really don’t want to lynch that old lady fumbling in her purse to pay the driver. Your attitude of “Get out the Bloody Way” as you barge past the aged and infirm evaporates into something far more civilised. For far too long “manners” has been condemned as a patronising middle class quality. But I don’t
agree. Most of them are simply little rules which make a crowded life a little easier. ‘Ladies first’ is not a belittling gesture towards the ‘weaker sex’ but an attempt to sort out the ground rules of going through a door. Someone has to go first because we can’t all go in at the same time. “Don’t chew with your mouth open” because frankly it’s quite unpleasant seeing what you are eating and “Don’t talk with your mouth full” is surely just an expression that you don’t want to be wearing what another is eating. The advent of mobile phones has seen their use grow without any accompanying ‘code of practice’ i.e. their polite usage. Prattling loudly into a phone as you sit in a quiet railway carriage or talking as you negotiate paying a driver is alienating and offensive. It seems to belittle the people around because you have rendered their thoughts unimportant as you selfishly bark out your conversation. At the risk of being labelled (yet again) a Grumpy Old Man, some of our youth seem to be going through life without considering others. The simple act of walking down a crowded street can demonstrate this. There seems to be very little awareness of others. A group can be walking and talking with scant regard to those coming towards them resulting in a wake of individuals who have leapt to one side in order to facilitate their progress. Actually, to Hell with manners. As an official G.O.M. I’m going to stand my ground, barge into people, push in front of others, blather noisily on my phone, chew with my gob open and sit on my bus seat as a poor little old crippled lady struggles to stand with all her shopping. And I am definitely going to stop saying sorry.