winchester 1
A prefect comes in, wanders round, checks everything’s in order. The older boys prattle with amusement. They have been there no more than two terms more than the new boys (called new men) but they could be ten years older. They are full of banter and jokes. The new men lie silent, apprehensive in the bed of the first night of their new life.
The lights are turned out and the prefect leaves the room. The chatter rekindles. With glee, the old hands begin the game. They introduce the theme. The theme is notions. New man’s notions.
There is a debate. Someone somewhere is not so keen on the idea of new man’s notions. Others are excited. The new men listen. They don’t know what this thing will be. All they know is that it is not something they are supposed to enjoy.
A new man, a pipsqueak, pipes up. He starts talking. The older boys, no more than a year older, but seeming so much more so, snort at him. The new man supports the lone voice of dissent. The new man is ridiculed. Told to be quiet. The debate is suspended. It will be resumed the next night.
At breakfast, someone asks the new man if that was him talking up last night. The new man says sheepishly, it was. The older boy tells him well done.
The next night it’s decided the notions should go ahead. They are cut off when a prefect walks in and switches on the lights. When he does, the new man is half way down the aisle of the dormitory, wearing no clothes. He runs into bed. The older boys hoot and shout. New man’s notions is summarily cancelled for that term’s intake.
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Years later that same prefect, who is now a doctor, becomes a tenant in my parents rented flat. He moves in with his young family. He doesn't seem to remember anything about me. We stand by the stream and try to remember the spanish word for trout. It's trucha.
The lights are turned out and the prefect leaves the room. The chatter rekindles. With glee, the old hands begin the game. They introduce the theme. The theme is notions. New man’s notions.
There is a debate. Someone somewhere is not so keen on the idea of new man’s notions. Others are excited. The new men listen. They don’t know what this thing will be. All they know is that it is not something they are supposed to enjoy.
A new man, a pipsqueak, pipes up. He starts talking. The older boys, no more than a year older, but seeming so much more so, snort at him. The new man supports the lone voice of dissent. The new man is ridiculed. Told to be quiet. The debate is suspended. It will be resumed the next night.
At breakfast, someone asks the new man if that was him talking up last night. The new man says sheepishly, it was. The older boy tells him well done.
The next night it’s decided the notions should go ahead. They are cut off when a prefect walks in and switches on the lights. When he does, the new man is half way down the aisle of the dormitory, wearing no clothes. He runs into bed. The older boys hoot and shout. New man’s notions is summarily cancelled for that term’s intake.
+++
Years later that same prefect, who is now a doctor, becomes a tenant in my parents rented flat. He moves in with his young family. He doesn't seem to remember anything about me. We stand by the stream and try to remember the spanish word for trout. It's trucha.
posted by maldoror at 12:04 a. m.
3 Comments:
I remember this film once with a white man who has to run the gauntlet among a tribe of natives.You see his white arse and the howling natives. They bait him with spears and shouts. You see everything from his painful perspective. That night I was the white man, except with a dick two sizes too small
if you saw his white arse, it couldn't have been entirely from his perspective.
Well that's a bit smart arse
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