Talking in Prague

Wednesday 12th August 2020

The Glorious 12th. But Debo couldn’t touch grouse. Memories of Uncle Harold on the moors. Oh for the old days when everything was as it should be. Cars at the door. Staff. Titles. Menus.

I went to Prague by air – unheard of in the modern era – for a week with Anthony Mottram and Vadim. Talked and talked. I was nearly late for the Muller House because of talking. Topic after topic. I can’t remember any of them now but tremendous quality. Such talk, boiling away, a terrific consistent boil, the steam rising and disappearing. We biked up the river, then down it. Talking all the time. It’s the sustaining of the talk, the sticking to the topic, the exploring of the avenues, the turning over and looking at the other side – that’s what gives satisfaction. Somewhere the content itself will be lurking, to spring back up again one day. How many have that elegance though, the weaving of phrases as one ends and another begins seamlessly, no jolt or jabbing interruption, the passages soaring effortlessly?

We toured the ramparts of old Prague, which have been there all this time but never seen before. Anthony Mottram and Vadim had been in Crete for two weeks. ‘There’s absolutely nothing to say about it,’ AM said. Villa, lunch, beach, dinner, scenery. A bit like Mary MacGregor in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie: ‘Two eyes, a nose and a mouth.’ Attempts to embroider often mislead. Why not settle for the vital elements and go no further?

In the private upstairs parlour of the Museum Apartment, we watched Indian Matchmaking on Netflix. Anthony Mottram was very keen on further epis, one after another in fact. One woman we didn’t like at all. She said she didn’t want any children at the wedding, a subject that invariably arose on the first date. The marriages were in business arrangements with banal requirements such as a ‘fun person who is flexible and likes to travel.’ The professional matchmaker who is some kind of celebrity in India apparently was rather nice but quite dim and undemanding. But although it didn’t say so in the series none of them got married apparently. AM found out elsewhere online. Not even the one with the awful mother who was always measuring her blood pressure and saying it would be through the roof by November if her son wasn’t married. So we viewed for 5 hours at least but I’m wondering now if the entire thing wasn’t just a little bit fake.

 

Posted Wednesday, August 12, 2020 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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