MARGINAL COMMENT •
By HAROLD NICOLSON
IT is with self-reproach that, as year succeeds year, I notice that it becomes increasingly difficult to think out Christmas presents and increasingly easy to think out New Year resolutions. Always, on December .22nd or 23rd, 1 recollect that Christmas Day is rapidly approaching, and always I decide to face the issue squarely, neither evading it nor surrendering to panic. I lay aside my labours and my household worries ; I sit down with pad and pencil before me ; I write out a list of my nearest and dearest, one below the other ; and then, with pencil poised in meditation, I consider care- fully what objects to inscribe opposite each name. Being one of those who believe that creative writing is the result of solid applica- tion, and that it is all too rarely that inspiration descends as a dragon-fly upon the empty mind, I summon all my energies of thought towards the problem of matching the object with the personality, of choosing presents that the recipient is likely to desire. The principle that I follow is, 1 am convinced, a correct principle. What men, women and children really want for Christmas is some- thing that they will need in any case, such as a nail-brush or a sponge. The imaginative donor will realise that, given the present high cost of living, it is unlikely that any of his friends or relations will commit the self-indulgence of buying for themselves either a very elegant nail-brush or a really large sponge. It is the donor's business to go out among the shops and warehouses of London to seek and search until he discovers a nail-brush composed of varying grades of beauty and efficiency. He will purchase this object, how- ever expensive it may be. And as for sponges, he will not rest until he has discovered the softest or the largett that can be found in the Aegean or amid the Bermuda lagoons.
* * * *
This process of selection, so long as it does not go beyond the planning stage, provides a pleasurable interlude in one's accustomed occupations. But the moment that one has to put the plan into operation, and actually to visit the shops where these articles arc provided, a period of strain and anxiety is entered. There are, I know, many women, and some men, who actually enjoy shopping. I have myself observed these eccentrics mooning from counter to counter ; dawdling along, regardless of time's passage and the obstruction they are causing to less idle citizens ; often fingering, with enraging lassitude, objects that are displayed. It is these people, the natural shoppers, who appear to be bereft of all powers of decision, who will engage the saleswomen in protracted conversa- tion, and who remain utterly unaware of, or brutally insensitive to, the raging impatience of those more normal individuals whose sole desire is to pay rapidly and leave. The breezes of impatience— those slight zephyrs that sigh and flutter eternally and not dis- agreeably around my head—wax at such moments into powerful g des, reaching at times to hurricane force, at times even attaining the strange and terrifying beauty of typhoons. It seems strange to Ole that the natural shopper should not restrict his vice to those wasons when I am not obliged to visit shops ; and that he or she should select December 22nd or December 23rd as the very day to indulge most languorously in dawdles. The result, year by year, is that my will-power collapses, and that I leave my purchases uncompleted and my friends unendowed with gifts. A sense of it2ompetence and wastage' clouds the festive hour.
* * * *
How far more delightful, how far less cumbersome, is the search for New Year's resolutions. No careful planning is required for this catalogue ; the resolutions trip merrily along together, as gay as a group of children leaving school. No forethought, no pad and pencil, are needed for this form of day-dream ; in fact, I have learnt. from experience that it is preferable not to write the resolu- tions down. One should allow them to occur spontaneously to the mind ; one should realise that the ease with which they buzz and settle implies an equal capacity for being able, in the dark 41%1 of January, to flit away. They should be treated tenderly as
butterflies ; smiling affectionately, one should observe their happy movements and their volatile stance ; they are but the insects of an hour—let them be gay and irresponsible while their short span of life may last. I have found that, watching the movements of these insects, allowing them to settle here and there, one Lxperiences not merely the pleasure induced by the light motion of small and transitory things, but also a sense of added and acquired virtue. It is encouraging to think how austere one's conduct will become as from January 1st with what method and what added industry one will resume in 1951 the solemn drudgeries of life ; how patient, gay and charming one will be to all the bores of Christendom, and to some even among the infidels ; how tolerant one is to be towards one's enemies, even to those women who obstruct queues, or loiter indecisive at theatre exits, or enter into long conversations with ticket-collectors, or with the youths and maidens who sell things in post-offices and shops. The iridescent colours of these day- dreams do not, we must admit, maintain their freshness and beauty when exposed to the hard light of day. But they are lovely and so comforting while they last.
It is an excellent practice, moreover, to add every year to the old recurrent resolutions some sturdy newcomer, whose presence lends variety, and often distinction, to the accustomed happy crowd. I have, of course, welcomed this year the advent of my ordinary visitors ; I am glad every January to see them again. It is delightful to notice how, with bright self-confidence, with smiles of moral rapture, they greet each. New Year, undeterred by previous dis- appointment, unaware even, it would seem, that their visit must be brief. Here, with shining face, comes the annual visitor who assures me that during the course of the year I shall smoke no more than ten cigarettes a day ; here, again, wreathed in rosemary and snowdrops, comes the confiding maiden who once again promises me that at future luncheons there will be no more port ; and here I welcome gladly the good fairy who waves her wand so amicably and prophesies that, only in the event of illness, shall I hail a taxi more than twice a week. This year I have had a new and resolute visitor who, from his appearance, is evidently a staunch supporter of that admirable institution, the English-Speaking Union. He tells me that, during the whole course of 1951, 1 am not, what- ever the temptation, to allow myself to doubt the sagacity, unselfish- ness, foresight, moderation or affection of the American people in Congress assembled I know that my other entrancing visitors will leave me during the watches of the night ; the newcomer shows every intention of wishing to remain. I trust that, as midnight tolled on December 31st, 1950, many millions of similar visitors have descended upon our English and American homes, bringing equally stern injunctions in their hands. Their presence is much needed.
* * * * Let all Englishmen therefore resolve, during the coming year, never to utter, or even to harbour, the thought, "The Americans have let us in." Let all Americans abjure the words, " The British have let us down." I have a feeling that it will be easier for us over here to keep this resolution than it will be for our American associates, who are in a mood of nervous dismay. They may increasingly resent the fact that we have recognised as the lawful Government of China an oligarchy of wanton aggressors ; they may feel that our preoccupation with the trade of Hong Kong is hampering them in their reprisals : they may consider that we obstinately refuse to understand their policy and precautions in Formosa ; they may even, in moments of anxiety and bitterness, assert that the contribution made by the British Commonwealth and Empire to the Korean battle is little more than a token con- tribution. Yes, it will be difficult for them to make this New Year resolution. But they are used to achieving very difficult things.
Previous page
