Anne Barnes taught me English in the sixth form, and she had quite an effect on me.
At first I was baffled by A-level English. I couldn’t get things like Jane Austen – it all seemed so boring.
I wasn’t the only boy, but most of the class were girls, and I felt a bit clueless and left out, because they all seemed to understand the books and what was going on. But I knew I wanted to understand.
She was patient with me, and she kept encouraging me to find the right books.
She told me I should read Ulysses. She said to go home and start on Friday evening and keep reading all weekend. Read and read and read, don’t spend too long on anything, keep going and get through the whole book.
And I did. Parts of it were utterly mystifying and parts were boring, but in a number of places I could see something exciting and brilliant happening. Finishing such a book, in one weekend, gave me a hell of a sense of achievement.
One day in the sixth form, in the north corridor, a boy in the year below punched me in the eye, for no reason at all – well, to amuse his friends. I was shocked, and of course it hurt.
I went into the English class, and Mrs Barnes was understanding, and sat with me for a while.
Around the time of my Oxford entrance exam, she suggested I get in touch with her son Hugh, who had been to Oxford and, as it turned out, was a big fan of Ulysses. I saw him a couple of times, in his flat overlooking Queen’s Park, and those meetings had a huge influence on me. Hugh was generous with his time, and it was generous of Mrs Barnes to set it up.
Then my grandfather, who I was living with, died the night before the exam, and I spent the whole exam in tears. There wasn’t much she could do about it, but she was there, and she was sympathetic.
She knew people in the literary world, and she invited me to a party at her house. I was so shy that I walked round the block about three times before I dared ring the bell. I was only a sixth former, and these were proper grown-ups, literary journalists and authors.
One of the people I met there, with some relief, was Hugh, with his girlfriend, which seemed tremendously sophisticated to me.
I remember the Barnes family had two Dalmatians, which I thought was rather splendid.
I was also invited to the Barnes house in Wiltshire for the weekend. I don’t actually recall if it was Hughie or Anne who gave the invitation, but at the time it all seemed too grand for me, so I came up with an excuse and never made it.
***
Much later, when I started teaching public classes at the School of Life, the door opened not long after I’d begun, and it was Mrs Barnes, come to join my class.
Afterwards she told me she was impressed and that I’d done a good job.
I was so proud.