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TOM SHARPE’S CATALONIA TODAY PERFORMANCE HOMAGE TO TOM SHARPE

We look back fondly at the satirical novelist, who was a resident of Catalonia, and his connection with the magazine

In May 2011 Cat­alo­nia Today sought – and ob­tained – the ho­n­our of hav­ing Tom Sharpe, the most dis­tin­guished Eng­lish writer then liv­ing in Cat­alo­nia, as Hon­orary Pres­i­dent of The Eng­lish Cul­ture Club pro­moted by our mag­a­zine. The writer, alas, died two years later al­most to the day. Sharpe, who lived for years in South Africa, was a pre­co­cious cru­sader against racism and the coun­try’s apartheid sys­tem. He fought it with the weapons of his mar­vel­lous gift for irony. His first best-seller, Ri­otous As­sem­bly (1971), a pow­er­ful de­nun­ci­a­tion of the South African po­lice, was ded­i­cated to “”the South African po­lice force whose lives are ded­i­cated to the preser­va­tion of west­ern civil­i­sa­tion in south­ern Africa”. Then came the Wilt books and huge in­ter­na­tional suc­cess. In fond mem­ory of “our” Tom Sharpe, we pub­lish this ar­ti­cle by Montser­rat Verda­guer, his com­pan­ion of many years, who pre­sides over The Tom Sharpe Foun­da­tion, with premises in Palafrugell. The ar­ti­cle reads as a brief piece of a mem­oir that links the name of the writer with Cat­alo­nia Today and re­calls one of his per­for­mances in full ec­cen­tric form. Sav­agely ironic and ec­cen­tric, Tom Sharpe never failed to be a fas­ci­nat­ing nar­ra­tor in all cir­cum­stances.

fea­ture

Montser­rat Verda­guer

Pres­i­dent of the Tom Sharpe Foun­da­tion

On Mon­day May 16, 2011, Tom Sharpe got an email from Germá Capdev­ila in­form­ing him that the mag­a­zine Cat­alo­nia Today and the Aba­cus book­shop chain had joined forces to cre­ate the first Eng­lish Cul­ture Club in Cat­alo­nia.

Capdev­ila wrote: “We would be de­lighted to name Tom Sharpe the Club’s ’hon­orary pres­i­dent’, be­cause we think he brings to­gether two char­ac­ter­is­tics that sym­bol­ise the spirit of the club: he is a lead­ing fig­ure in the Eng­lish arts, and he is a Cata­lan by adop­tion who loves Cat­alo­nia. Be­fore mak­ing a for­mal re­quest, I wanted to check with you about whether you would be will­ing to take on this hon­orary post.”

I ex­plained the sit­u­a­tion to him and he said “yes”.

The same Mon­day, Tom Sharpe replied: “I am deeply ho­n­oured by your offer and I ac­cept with grat­i­tude.”

I in­formed Jorge Her­ralde, who wrote: ”We are de­lighted with Tom Sharpe’s firm YES to be­com­ing the hon­orary pres­i­dent of the Club. Con­grat­u­la­tions.”

He was gen­uinely pleased and in­formed his Eng­lish lit­er­ary agent, his pub­lisher, and every­one else.

Al­though he wrote some words that he was sup­posed to read out on the day of the Club’s in­au­gu­ra­tion, as Miquel Berga pointed out on Feb­ru­ary 9, in the Palafrugell li­brary dur­ing the pre­sen­ta­tion of his book “Un aire anglès”, Tom Sharpe’s ad­dress was chaos, or to use his words: “Not chaos, men­tal an­ar­chy”, as “that is how my mind works”.

Thanks to what was pub­lished in the mag­a­zine, I can ex­plain ex­actly what hap­pened.

The pre­sen­ta­tion took place on Tues­day June 21 at 6pm, in the Aba­cus book­shop on Córcega street in Barcelona.

At 2pm we left for Barcelona. He was dressed in blue trousers and jacket, with a white shirt and his typ­i­cal Cam­bridge col­lege tie. The trip down promised to be in­ter­est­ing.

On the way he com­plained about the traf­fic on the mo­tor­way, say­ing he wanted to go back to Llafranc. Dri­ving, I did what I al­ways did and de­cided to keep quiet but con­tin­ued to­wards Barcelona. He car­ried on com­plain­ing about not lik­ing big cities and said he wanted to go home. I thought that the quicker we could get to the shop the bet­ter. For­tu­nately I found a park­ing space right in front of the Aba­cus shop. He re­ceived an ef­fu­sive wel­come once in­side and calmed down. Dis­as­ter averted, for the mo­ment!

He was in­ter­viewed, and spoke to ad­mir­ers, who laughed at his anec­dotes.

Then the pre­sen­ta­tion began and he left every­one open-mouthed, and today I re­alise that I wasn’t the only one whose anx­i­ety lev­els shot through the roof.

In­stead of read­ing out what he had writ­ten, which he handed to Miquel Berga, he began an an­ar­chic “Sharpian per­for­mance”, talk­ing about his first wife, sex, South Africa, pol­i­tics and Eng­lish doc­tors. To give a taste of what he said: “I don’t want to com­mit VER­BAL MUR­DER!” There was no way of stop­ping him. He fi­nally must have seen my grow­ing state of anx­i­ety, as well as my at­tempts to let him know that it was time to stop, say­ing: “I think Montse is telling me to shut up.” I told him “yes, just say ’moltes gràcies’.”

That is how things went. And it could have been worse; he could have spo­ken for hours.

I still have his mem­ber­ship card num­ber 1.

He re­mained for­ever proud of it and would show it to every­one.

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