DAC: When did you first meet Douglas,
and what was it like?
NW: We met in
the Argyll Arms in the West End, a huge
Victorian pub off Oxford St near the London
Palladium.
It's a place where young
people, hem hem, rendez-vous before going
on. Also it attracts tourists. Not
a great choice because it was so noisy, but
Douglas and I, both being tall, could just
about hear each other. John
Lloyd was nearly inaudible, but he was very
good-looking and spent his time smouldering
at the girls. As far
as I recall, we talked about philosophy and
SF. Douglas had a very philosophical cast of
mind - all those jokes
about phenomenology and whatnot - so I was
surprised that he was a natural, as it were,
who had never studied the
subject. We got on very well and consumed
rather too much beer. I was impressed
by his humour and intelligence. You learn in
publishing that some authors who are
dazzling on the page can
be taciturn miserabilists in person. Douglas
was exuberant and funny.
DAC:
Did
the TIC:s (Those In Charge) at PAN consider
it a good deal right from the start?
NW: Pan was
very hot in those days, the no.1 paperback
house being fed rights from three large
hardcover partners. Another
book was not a big deal, and I was not
proposing that we spend serious sponduliks.
Sonny Mehta, the editorial boss (a very
smart man), thought it was a good idea and
perhaps he felt he should indulge me too
as I bounced around the wanky publishing
parish being enthusiastic. There was always
something interesting to
say about H2G2 because of the radio, so that
made it a good bet for PAN. It's grim trying
to sell something to the
trade (a very tired and jaded bunch) about
which there is nothing to
say except that the editor likes it.
DAC: Were you
surprised by the immediate and huge success
of the book? What was Douglas reaction?
NW: We were
all taken by surprise. I thought it would do
well, but had no idea that it would
go utterly bonkers
(publishing techy term). Editors like to
present such successes as reflecting their
judgement, but the truth is
that for a new author there is no such thing
in publishing as a
certainty. If a goody fails, it's obviously
because the art dept. packaged it badly, the
sales team never
understood it and the book trade was just
too pusilanimous and stodgy to give it
shelf-space. If it
works, it's clearly a tribute to the
editor's vision etc etc. Douglas was
ecstatic and set about an
orgy of hedonistic self-indulgence with such
child-like glee that it was quite impossible
to
do anything other than smile.
DAC: You
became friends with Douglas, was that a
friendship that lived even after you left
PAN?
NW: Yes.
Douglas had some very intense male
friendships. Ours was lower key, which may
be why it lasted.
We shared a similar world
view based on science. The more you know
about how the universe works, the
more astonishing and wonderful it is. I
suppose you could call it almost a sense of
the religious in the
sense that life itself is so improbable as
to be almost miraculous. We both loathed
the notion of God, a heading
under which all kinds of fascinating
speculation can be smothered. Better
to face up to the human condition without
such comforts, we thought. We would meet for
lunch to discuss the
latest developments. Douglas was always much
better informed about biology and I was
usually up to speed on cosmology. Douglas
had the enviable ability to read something
and remember
and understand it. He really was
extraordinarily bright.
DAC: In your
biography, "Wish
You Were Here", you frequently
point out Douglas personality flaws, like
being clumsy and inconsiderate with other
peoples feelings, his tendency to sulk and
moan because of his insecurity and his
flamboyancy with money, food and drink. Why?
NW: Douglas
was not a plaster saint. I had to show him
as a real person. As it is, the critics
excoriated me for being
blinded by affection. You
cannot win with those guys. I ended up
admiring Douglas for overcoming his many
problems and insecurities. He
found writing painful, but nevertheless left
a considerable body of work, much of which
is marvellous.
DAC: As his
official biographer you got access to his
papers and files. What was your feeling when
you went through them during research?
NW: I felt
uncomfortable, like some moist reptile from
one of our many crap papers.
All that private stuff, some
of which I never mentioned in the bio, was
not for the eyes of some biographer,
even a pal. If his files were in the Public
Records Office my perusal of them would
have felt like research. As it was, I felt
very intrusive. Jane was brave letting me
look without
any hindrance.
DAC: How did
you hear about his death, and when was the
last time you met him?
NW: Robbie
Stamp called me early in the morning. I
could not get my head around the idea at
first. I
phoned Jane in Santa Barbara to make the
conventional pitiably inadequate noises.
I had stayed for a few days
with Douglas, Jane and Polly out in
California when I was hoping to become a
dotcom millionaire
(never happened), but the last time I met
Douglas was when he kindly took me to lunch
at Fredericks, one of
his favourite Islington restaurants, when he
was in London six months before he died. We
argued with some pleasure
about evolutionary biology. Not every
behaviour relates to our deep evolutionary
past, surely? There's
too much noise in the system. After lunch
Douglas went over the road to Waterstones
and bought me copies of Matt Riddley's book,
The Origins of Virtue, and Steve Grand's
Creation. He thought I
should read them and would enjoy them. He
was right. It was typically generous,
for
I was rather broke at the time.
DAC: I know
you are still in touch with Jane and Polly.
How are they doing now?
NW: I haven't
seen Polly for a while, but Jane tells me
she is doing well. She's at a school in
London that specializes in very bright kids.
No surprise there then. She's
tall, with huge brown eyes amplified by her
specs. Jane is on good
form and much more settled. She has started
to throw the odd generously extravagant
party in
the great tradition. That must be a good
sign.
DAC:
And
finally, what are you up to nowadays?
NW: Wish it
were more. I'm reading books with serial
potential for a newspaper. Our local
magazine buys
the occasional literary spoof. It's such fun
writing them that I'd do them for nothing
(and almost do). Also there's
the odd bit of publishing consultancy.
I'm not very good at that
because I tend to blurt out what the
client needs to know over lunch. A publisher
is sitting on a book idea from me at the
moment, but
as yet there is no sign of her having a
crisis of the chequebook.
Footnotes:
1:
Sue is Nicks wife. A lovely and extremely
intelligent woman. |
