Clearly, the metrical innovation of mid-nineteenth century narrative verse is a bit of a minefield, particularly when you take into account the deconstructionist shenanigans of the 1970s, so, I found myself wondering about the Longfellow piece. Patrice, characteristically, had no qualms.<\/p>\n
\u2018If you’re not prepared to take risks,\u2019 he said \u2018then the cut and thrust of literary discourse is not for you!\u2019 He uttered the words with a sort of gentle melancholy, knowing, I think, that I would rise to the bait.<\/p>\n
\u2018Then I\u2019ll schedule a call with Doctor Parnell,\u2019 I said.<\/p>\n
Patrice is in Singapore, I am in Spain and Doctor Parnell is in the western United States, so scheduling was an issue, but we settled in due course for eight o\u2019clock in Los Angeles, five o\u2019clock in Madrid, and eleven o\u2019clock in Singapore. Doctor Parnell would have to get up early; Patrice would stay up late and I wouldn\u2019t have to do anything at all.<\/p>\n
The moment Doctor Parnell came into view I sensed that the interview was to take an unexpected, perhaps even a bracing turn. Doctor Parnell was wearing rather striking eye shadow: indigo blue, I think. Her eyebrows were similarly assertive: they were painted a dark, shiny black and they rose to a point above her nose where they almost touched, like dislocated angel\u2019s wings, or the carefully arranged tips of symmetrical autumn leaves. Her hair was arranged in a precipitous bun at the top of her head, kept in place by a bright yellow bandana. In addition to being about twenty-five years younger than her academic record \u2013 or, indeed, her prose style \u2013 would have suggested, Doctor Parnell was, to be blunt, disconcertingly glamorous.<\/p>\n
\u2018Where the hell have you been?\u2019 she demanded. \u2018I\u2019ve been waiting a whole hour!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Hello, Doctor Parnell!\u2019 Patrice began. \u2018It is a great pleasure to meet you at last!\u2019<\/p>\n
I gathered that is what Patrice had intended to say before the doctor made her robust foray into the teleconference \u2013 and he had simply gone ahead and said it anyway. A film specialist, Patrice\u2019s knowledge of cinema is prodigious; his knowledge of the world \u2013 not so much.<\/p>\n
\u2018I got up early for this!\u2019 Doctor Parnell said, \u2018and you guys are an hour late!\u2019<\/p>\n
I wondered how I could possibly have miscalculated the time difference.<\/p>\n
\u2018I do apologise,\u2019 I said, concluding instantly that my supine tone rendered this a capitulation rather than an apology. I hadn\u2019t mistaken the time.<\/p>\n
\u2018About the work,\u2019 she said, getting to the business at hand with breath-taking despatch, \u2018how much are you going to pay?\u2019<\/p>\n
Patrice is undoubtedly more at home when musing on literary outliers: he was not the man to judge a correlation between advertising income and an article on mid-nineteenth century poetry. Doctor Parnell, I could only assume, was similarly adrift from the harsh realities of the market if she imagined a literary magazine might pay a sum worth discussing. We are very much in the Great Tradition that equates the spiritual rewards of the writing life with material penury.<\/p>\n
\u2018We had thought we might begin by talking about your thesis,\u2019 I said. \u2018It\u2019s certainly original!\u2019<\/p>\n
Doctor Parnell in her paper had advanced the view that Longfellow had made significant stylistic borrowings from the less well known early 19th century New England poet, H W Dangerfield.<\/p>\n
\u2018My thesis?\u2019 she said. \u2018Do you want to do this or not?\u2019<\/p>\n
Patrice giggled. \u2018Touch\u00e9, madame!\u2019 Patrice becomes more Gallic when he is rattled. \u2018But we are an academic publication!\u2019 he added, as though this were the killer argument. \u2018We must observe a degree of . . . rigour!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018I charge the market rate,\u2019 Doctor Parnell replied, a tad sourly, I felt.<\/p>\n
Is this an imaginary market, I thought, but I didn\u2019t say this. Instead, I said, \u2018Doctor Parnell, we are not entirely sure that the parameters of your argument would find a ready audience, at least among our readers.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Are you guys for real,\u2019 she said.<\/p>\n
At the top right-hand corner of the screen I saw that a new participant was asking to join the conversation. The name at least was familiar. I granted access.<\/p>\n
\u2018Good morning!\u2019 the new arrival said in a cheery, slightly patrician voice.<\/p>\n
\u2018Who\u2019s this?\u2019 Doctor Parnell asked.<\/p>\n
\u2018Your namesake, I believe,\u2019 I said.<\/p>\n
\u2018Doctor Parnell,\u2019 I continued, addressing the younger of the two doctors. \u2018Remind me of your specialist credentials.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018It\u2019s all written down in the prospectus \u2013 coding, web design, digital marketing,\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Quoi?\u2019 Patrice asked. I do not believe I have ever seen him revert so precipitously to his inner Gaul.<\/p>\n
\u2018I believe we are in the wrong conversation,\u2019 I told the tyro online marketing whizz. \u2018You are speaking to the editors of \u201cOn Lines\u201d, a poetry portal.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Poetry!\u2019 She uttered the word as though it were unsavoury.<\/p>\n
\u2018You liked the Longfellow piece?\u2019 asked the other Doctor Parnell still cheery.<\/p>\n
Patrice, I think, would have lingered. He wanted to discuss a marketing plan with the digital doctor, since fate had delivered a rather exotic brand of expertise to our otherwise settled world, but she cut him off and hurried away to locate the people she had been scheduled to speak to.<\/p>\n
Such are the perils of business in the age of Zoom.<\/p>\n
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