Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts

Saturday, 13 September 2014

The Two Cousins Episode 9: Hector and Ronnie


 

 

 

The Two Cousins

Episode 9: Hector and Ronnie

Iain Smith

We left Hector MacIver in Episode 7 resuming his teaching career in 1945. One of his students of that era recalls him:

 “Hector MacIver became one of the outstanding teachers of English in Scotland in the two decades immediately after the war. This may sound like a very large claim, but its truth can be supported in three ways: by the achievement of his best pupils; by the intellectual stimulus and pleasure he gave to hundreds of boys who had no pretensions as English specialists; and by the way in which through his own example and enthusiasm he taught a large number of young English masters their job and encouraged them to go on to posts of higher responsibility.”

Another school student was the distinguished writer and critic Karl Miller (and the editor of the posthumous 1970 book tribute to MacIver). Miller (today celebrated as the most distinguished living alumnus of the Royal High School of Edinburgh) writes in 1970 about Hector that

 “ [In 1948], when I was his pupil at the Royal High School of Edinburgh, Hector used to tell stories about the faculty of second sight, which seemed to be an important matter, still, in the Hebrides where he grew up……….To Lowland school-children, Hector came as revelation: an exile from the Western Isles, from the ‘lone shieling of the misty island’, he had qualities of dignity, elegance, eloquence and fantasy that seemed not only exotic but literally portentous”.

Hector, like many of his literary friends, enjoyed the good life. Miller writes: “he may once have been in the habit of sending back his lobster to the counter in the Café Royal if he did not think it came from Lewis – nevertheless the world was his oyster.”  (This is a most unlikely, if fun, story.)

The Café Royal remains largely unchanged to this day, its rooms haunted by the ghosts of Compton Mackenzie, Louis MacNeice, Dylan Thomas – and Hector MacIver. It was there, according to Karl Miller, that Hector MacIver one night assaulted the (now forgotten, but then Paxman-like) broadcaster Gilbert Harding for having called him “a bloody highlander”.

Apart from his full-time job, Hector in the 1950s was himself active in broadcasting.

            “… he still kept up a stream of radio broadcasts  and plays, and articles, in English and in Gaelic. ……

            “He also reviewed books on radio….. At this time too, his friend Louis MacNeice was broadcasting programmes of reading from Spenser’s ‘Faerie Queen’ and Hector used to go down to London to take part in these. He also featured in such radio dramas by Louis as The Dark Tower. At this time also he was taking part in radio plays and programmes by Neil Gunn and Robert Kemp.”

Hector maintained his friendship with Dylan Thomas, as his wife Mary recorded; and she paints a vivid pen-portrait of Thomas:

“I somehow found it difficult to think of him as grown-up, he looked so like a cherubic baby with his pop eyes and fat cheeks, loose lips and curly hair. He always seemed merry; but somehow I felt that at bottom he was rather a sad person, rather alone, always aware of the uncertainty and tragedy of life and the evanescence of time.”

And, of course, in almost no time at all, the evanescent Thomas was dead, not yet forty years old. This year the centenary of his birth is being remembered.

Comparatively late in life (in the 1950s), Hector MacIver married. 

Mary’s introduction to her mother-in-law was dramatic:  “She shook her head, sadly, and said ‘Ah, Hector was ruined by the Navy! The drink you know.’” Hector’s mother had been a pupil-teacher before, later in life, having upgraded her teaching qualifications and returned to teaching when her husband went bankrupt. As with many Lewis teachers of her generation, and indeed of later generations, she clearly could be blunt and open with negative assessments of the young. Whether she took pride in the more positive sides of her son’s achievement (Head of English in Scotland’s most prestigious state school; critic; broadcaster; writer) is not recorded.

Mary and Hector shared many literary and cultural interests, according to one of her ex-students:-

“The most inspirational teacher I had was Mary MacIver. We hit it off immediately. Mrs MacIver turned out to be probably the most formative person in my life. She had a profound effect on me.

She was married to Hector MacIver, who taught English at the Royal High School. I already knew about Hector MacIver because I had read critical articles he wrote in the Scotsman and other newspapers about all sorts of things, particularly poetry. Mary and Hector lived in the village of Temple, next door to the painter William Gillies and knew all sorts of poets, musicians, actors and painters. Over the coming years they took me under their wing and introduced me to people like the poet Robert Garioch, the painter Robin Philipson and the weaver Sax Shaw.”

Mary and Hector’s cultural interests were however not narrowly intellectual:

“Ronnie Corbett, a previous pupil of Hector, also became well known as a comedian. When we were first married I had to listen to every ‘Crackerjack’ programme with Hector, for he was so interested in following the beginning of Ronnie’s successful career.”

In 1962, Hector spent a term on a secondment to Balliol in the University of Oxford. He records some of that experience:-

            “I attended lectures by Professor Ayer, very impressive on ‘Facts and Propositions’; Professor Davies on ‘Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Professor Trevor Roper on the Puritan Revolution; Tolkien on the Study of Old English Poetry; Mr Wordsworth on the Scottish Chaucerians; AJP Taylor on post-War History.”

In 1965, Hector took ill. Unknown to him, he had cancer of the liver. His cat was also ill, as his wife records: “When Hector was dying, Peader was terminally ill also, and Hector said to the tiger-striped Peader as she lay on the quilt on Hector’s bed - Ah, little one, we’re both on the way out.”

On 30 April 1966, Hector MacIver died. He was 55 years old.

Postscript: There our story of these odd, but talented, Macivers ends. It began when two little boys, a long time ago, speculated as to why Robert and Hector were so gifted, yet so different - and united apparently only by surname. And when a Lewis mother said to her two boys:  “It is obvious why they were talented. They were first cousins: both Macivers of the stock of Maciver’s Garage in Bayhead.” As always, a Lewis mother has the last word.

(Concluded)

Iain Smith

Friday, 28 March 2014

The Two Cousins: Episode 4


The Two Cousins

Episode 4: Robert as a scholar

Iain Smith

We saw in Episode 2 Robert MacIver leaving school and heading to university.

Robert’s narrative about being a student in Edinburgh in 1898 is interesting.

“I lived in a cheap but quite decently kept rooming house for students. All meals were included, simple but respectable meals – and the whole cost ran to about fourteen shillings a week. Occasionally I would indulge in the luxury of [dinner in] a small hotel near the Old University, and that never cost me more than a shilling.”

So, in a 30-week student year, he was spending £21 a year on board and lodgings. He also described how the university provided lectures, but regarded itself has having no pastoral or guidance function for students. For 19th century Scottish universities, this was typical; and somewhat different to 19th century Oxbridge. The days of halls of residence, of advisors of study, of university health services and so on lay somewhere far ahead. Of the Professor of Greek, he says: “Although I stood very high in the class, I do not recall ever having an interview with him.”

He played golf (pennies a round), saw Ellen Terry and Henry Irvine in The Merchant of Venice and watched a D’Oyly Carte production of The Mikado.

Interestingly, MacIver did not work during his summer holiday at home. He played golf with his father at the course in Melbost (now Stornoway Airport) and he studied in preparation for the second year at university. So clearly his bursary (and being in the family home during the long summer vacation) was sufficient to sustain him financially.

MacIver’s memoir remind us that university lecture halls in the 19th century could be rowdy places, a tradition which extended (in abated form) at least into the 1960s; but is I believe now dead. And he also observed the rowdiness that could attend rectorial elections, a tradition that has survived.

After an uninspired second year, MacIver in his third year ends up joint first in the logic class. He records the fate of the student who shared the prize: “He was killed very early in the hideous folly of the First World War, and of its uncounted victims no one could have been more grievously miscast for soldiering than that gentle scholar.”

MacIver won a further scholarship which he used to take an extra year to ensure a 1st Class Honours; and he duly succeeded in that ambition. Meanwhile he argues with classmates on the significance of the recently deceased Queen Victoria: “some of my pals …shared the general veneration of the queen as a great and wise ruler. I held she was a great symbol….but not great in her own wisdom as a policy-maker.”  MacIver’s formal studies at the time may have been classics; but one can see the promise of an ability that would make him a world-renowned social and political analyst. “I was developing a stronger interest in social movements and issues. Much as I felt that I had benefitted from my classical studies, I began to wish that I could enter the unexplored and still academically slighted social sciences.

Robert acquired the coveted first class honours in classics and proceeded to Oriel College Oxford with “a good-sized scholarship masquerading as a Bible clerkship…[and] the obligation of reciting a Latin grace several days a week after the gong had sounded for dinner in the college hall.” What his highly religious presbyterian father back in Stornoway thought of this is not recorded.

MacIver’s description of Oxford is of a tranquil life, to which he adapted with some ease. Of the upper class “commoners” (as opposed to those like such as he holding scholarships) he says “In spite of their greater savoir-faire I thought of them as more big-boyish, less adult, than our own youth.” His Provost dispensed tea from two teapots, one to provide water to warm the cups (that water then being discarded) and the other for the tea itself.  But, he says, “The more we studied the social and political life of ancient times, the more eager I was to learn about the doings and the troubles of our own tangled society.”

After his Oxford success, Robert MacIver was appointed a lecturer in the University of Aberdeen.

 

Today the University of Aberdeen website celebrates that appointment at length and with some pride:-

Robert MacIver

Robert MacIverDespite its ancient origins, the University of Aberdeen was one of the first institutions in the UK and further afield to introduce the subject of sociology. In 1907 Robert MacIver (1882-1970), a young lecturer of local birth, was appointed as an assistant in Moral Philosophy but delivered lectures in the new subject. We believe that among his students at that time was the future father-in-law of the Chinese Communist leader, Chairman Mao. Whatever influence Aberdonian sociology had on the subsequent development of Maoism is unrecorded.

MacIver initially lectured in political science (“traditionally little more than an account of the doctrines of the well-known figures from Machiavelli to Hegel”). He planned however to write his first book on “the complicated relationships of men and groups and of the institutions that had grown up to facilitate control of these relations”.

Most significantly, he became in 1911 a lecturer in political science and sociology, the first person to be so designated in a Scottish university.

Robert went home for a holiday, probably about 1913. His father had bought a Model T Ford from the 1911-founded Ford factory in Trafford Park Manchester; and they both experimented with driving it on the Melbost golf course. Father MacIver diversified from his Harris Tweed company into car-hiring; and this was the origin of MacIver’s Garage, a well-known Stornoway company for many decades. (At some point about 1970, I heard for the first time about Robert M MacIver. I asked my mother whether she knew of him. “Yes.” she said. “Of course he came from MacIver’s Garage.” I understood then, and still understand today, that a rough translation of this was: “If one wants to be a world class sociologist, coming from the family of MacIver’s Garage naturally gives one a distinct head start.”)

(to be continued)

Iain Smith was formerly Dean of Education in the University of Strathclyde. He welcomes feedback at i.r.m.smith@strath.ac.uk.