You had to be there

                                                                    Picture credit: BBC

Greetings dear friends, from the temperate shores of Asia Minor to where I have journeyed with my beloved over land and sea for respite from the turmoil of daily life. A time for reflection and rejuvenation. I am on holiday, unexpected global pestilence, wildcat transport strikes, and other disasters notwithstanding, as I’ve scheduled this a few days in advance!

If I’d been here circa 2000 years ago, I might have bumped into Paul and his cronies as they cruised around the Med’ bringing good news of Jesus. I could have followed him and listened to his every word. Perhaps, afterwards, I would have written up my account of what he said and did. There’s nothing more accurate than a first-hand account from a reliable source, is there? It would be the gospel truth. Or at least as I remember it, which reminds me of my time as a young copper.

Have you heard the one about two police officers giving evidence in court in 1989?

No? The punchline is… and they both remember exactly the same thing.

I know it’s not hilarious, but until the 1990s, the legally accepted practice was that police officers working together conferred when they made their notes and prepared identical statements. In court, lawyers asked us to confirm this was the case and expected an answer in the affirmative. Two (or more) officers at the same scene at the same time producing independent statements was tantamount to saying one version was wrong unless they miraculously aligned in every way. The defence would have had a field day. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, how can you convict the defendant when even the officers of the law have offered differing accounts of what really happened?’ Rightly, the practice has now ended. Many variables affect our points of view, from our experience, our priorities, to our physical attributes. Imagine two police officers arriving at a chaotic and violent scene. A 5’2” recruit with excellent eyesight might see and feel things differently from a 6’4” old sweat whose glasses got knocked off in the melee.

Let’s go back to bumping into Paul 2000 years ago. Imagine you and I are together, on an expensive exclusive sun-kissed writing retreat by the sea. We are keen to get our shabby works in progress included in an upcoming blockbuster anthology that everyone’s talking about. Rumour has it that Paul himself has already had more than his fair share of contributions accepted in advance, so he must know some tricks of the trade. Maybe he’s just matey with the publisher? The writing world is very cliquey.   

Our retreat leader’s daily mantra is that self-motivated learning is the key to success. Thus, he has despatched us into town for the day in search of inspiration whilst he signs a multi-book contract with his publisher, who is sailing in business class, on a fishing boat. Very grand! Later, we will celebrate his success and exchange short extracts from our work in a plenary with complimentary wine and canapes before dinner whilst the sun sets.

What better way to be inspired than to follow this Paul fellow for a bit? We watch and listen as he preaches. He is certainly very fiery. Some folk get berated for their lack of faith, others praised for their fortitude. He’s quite the character. People listen to him. If he writes like he speaks, the book deals are well deserved. He is certainly more charismatic than our retreat leader, a celebrity turned best-selling author. The opening lesson yesterday consisted entirely of a promotion for his current chart topper and now gossip is spreading that he didn’t write the book at all. Who knew that sort of caper went on?

After a long day of trailing after the verbose Paul in the raging heat, we return to base, feet blistered, to freshen up and scribe some words that won’t shame us in front of our fellow retreaters, many of whom are really very talented.

Celebrity retreat leader is in excellent spirits at the plenary. Sadly, he must now return home mid-retreat because of some very exciting new contractual obligations, but ‘darlings, you are already simply marvellous writers. If a little old nobody like me can do it, anyone can. You don’t need moi.’

To get it over with, I volunteer to read my extract first. I recount word for word what we heard Paul saying. I am careful to quote exactly, not a paraphrase in sight, lest I change his meaning. I read it loudly in my best Paulesque accent to ensure my audience gets an immersive experience. I am satisfied with my efforts and I down a large gulp of rather rough but free wine.

I feel myself blushing as celebrity retreat leader heaps praise upon me, although I notice he is slurring his words. He’s probably exhausted after all that contract signing. You go next, but I feel bad. What else is there to say? Lots, apparently. You deliver a vivid, if rather discourteous, description of Paul. How his breath reeked of rotten fish and spittle dripped from his straggly beard as he raved. I didn’t pick up any of that, but you’ve always been hypersensitive to funny smells. You speak of how being in his presence made your spine tingle and the feverish excitement of the crowds gathered around him. I never even looked at the crowds. You recount how an infectious atmosphere of hope and expectation hung heavily in the air. I thought I was having a touch of sunstroke. Not once do you quote a single word he said, yet your account is captivating.

Celebrity retreat leader is in awe of your work or has over indulged. Either way, he is speechless, just like your extract. Two first-hand accounts of a scene, yet utterly different. Both are true, both are informative, adding value and richness to each other.

Sometimes I look at the vast sea of literature already written, much of it barely read, and I wonder if there’s any point in producing even more of it. After all, it’s time consuming and there are so many important needs in the world just waiting for someone to meet them. Accomplished and eloquent wordsmiths have already covered every subject in every format from every point of view.

Except yours and mine.