I bet you were wondering if I actually did attend this free event. Of course I did, what woman of substance would not? Leaving work in my rainbow striped jumper and with my multi-coloured, sparkly LOVE necklace in place, I felt ready for some mental stimulation. Walking towards the new Oastler building at Huddersfield University, I read the poem Let There Be Peace by Lemn Sissay, which is permanently displayed on the Creative Arts building. He inspired me as 14 year old schoolgirl, I recall, when he came to do a workshop in an English lesson. Thanks, Lemn.
It's quite comical to find myself in the entrance of this venue surrounded by a swarm of elderly people and clergy. Mind you, this is a typical demographic trend of the much smaller Sunday morning congregation to which I belong. The many white collars look pale and boring compared with my singular, sparkly LOVE charm but I'm not one to judge. Soon I cross paths with some familiar faces who make me feel less like a goldfish out of its bowl. As I sit down next to a lady I know, I confess that I can't believe this talk is going to last three hours. She instantly absolves my fear and dread by telling me there was a misprint on the ticket. Praise the Lord indeed, I thought.
The stage is set with a perspex lectern taking centre position, flanked on either side by display stands full of psychedelic gladioli. It's a blooming full house tonight Dr Rowan Williams. A University based fellow, the Vice-Chancellor in fact, appears at the lectern bang on time to introduce the special guests. The first being the honorary Professor Robin Wilson, son of Harold Wilson. As he stands up turning to face the audience, there is an audible gasp as he is the spit and image of his deceased father. It is almost as if the statue which stands outside the train station has come to life and walked across town, just as I had done this very evening. Surreal, for real and we applaud his presence.
Now it's time for the former Archbishop of Canterbury to begin his discourse. With all due respect he resembles the lovely Albus Dumbledore minus his hat and cloak. Of course, I'm not going to paraphrase his lecture in any way, shape or form because most of it belonged to another realm of supreme intelligence, which after a busy day at work my poor brain could not fully comprehend. I was trying to write notes though, as I am a bit of a swot and love to learn but my pen was playing up. Looking back over the scribbles now I can just about decipher the following: The Republic by Plato, Thomas Aquinas, demos, history of democracy, echo chamber, judiciary, enemies of the people and finally encourage/promote debate. Phew! Put that lot in your pipe and smoke it Harold.
There was a moment or two where, to be honest, I had visions of Dr Rowan grabbing some fluorescent pink and orange gladioli and swishing them around himself on stage, as Morrissey did indeed do. Were they gladioli or chrysanthemums? Susie, focus on this charming man, come out of that cruel reverie and concentrate, I berate my subconscious self. So, once again I am smiling and slightly nodding in agreement at whatever philosophy, ideology, theology, democracy, pedagogy, I actually do understand.
There was a short time slot given after the lecture for any questions. However, I did not feel my concerns would be clever enough so kept quiet for a change. I was really impressed with how the good Dr did consider carefully and respond thoughtfully on the spot, to the five or so questions fired at him. After the rapturous, lengthy applause, I gladly took up the offer of a lift home from the lady I know. We were walking quickly alongside one another, discussing the lecture and sermons in general when I could feel someone's presence gathering speed behind us. Glancing over my left shoulder I was slightly startled to see Professor Dumbledore and an associate scurrying towards us. Yikes, did he want to ask me how we could encourage more young people into the Church of England or had he been transfigured by my dazzling smile, auburn halo and sparkly LOVE trinket? Being me, I had to speak to him. Bigmouth strikes again, get your flowers ready to swish Suze.
'Oh, thank you, I really enjoyed your lecture, it was really good,' I said not wanting to boost any clever male more than is wholly necessary.
'Thank you,' Dr Rowan replied, smiling with his twinkling eyes, before hurriedly turning around and speed shuffling off to meet his taxi in the other direction. See, even really clever people lose their way sometimes. Or was he going for a swift pint in the Head of Steam with Harold's son? What difference does it make? Hopefully, we shall all get to where we need to be in the end.
With sparkly
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| XX |
