The Professor Peregrine Papers

October 4th 1926 Rue Lafayette, Paris André Breton sees Nadja for the first time. A new day. I put on gloves of foam. Much later, à la station balnéaire, I became gloves of horsehair. Time for tea. I'm putting the kettle on. Effrontément.

Recently Professor Peregrine has been stung by the criticism from various academics and other cardsharps of his paper entitled “Shakespeare, Raised Pork Pies and The Early Works of The Incredible String Band”. Beckoning me into a dark corner of the “The Fishmonger and Solenoid” saloon bar recently, he gave me his side of of the story. “I sequestered myself in a small bungalow just outside of Monk Soham for several months, listening only to Mozart's Trumpet Concerto (K. 47c), while researching that paper. I stand by its entirely spurious and misbegotten conclusions. Or, at least, I will if I can ever bring them to mind.” He paused briefly to savour a surprisingly large handful of cheese and persimmon crisps, before going on in hushed tones: “I am aware that there have been scurrilous and opprobrious mutterings on this subject, notably from the Garrak Larrups Memorial College and Centre for Ponderous Trapezists. Frankly, I refuse to consider that institution worthy of my concern. I w...

Eight o'clock, Place du Châtelet: As he sat outside his favourite café, Daglet Scribacious was surprised by a visit from the ghost of Paul Éluard.

Professor Peregrine has made an extensive and lengthy study of English folklore, traditions and puddings which culminated in his recent monograph entitled “What the Hocktide Is This All About Then?” (Vilipend Press, 2024). In order to learn more, I accompanied the Professor to the Annual Tree Glorification Festival in Gully-on-the-Mooch. The day began with the time-honoured breakfast of trampled potato and ambiguous berry jam before groups of villagers meandered into the nearby woods making vague, complimentary comments about the trees. Every now and then the traditional cry of “This bark is adequate for the most part” was heard, drifting through the woodland. After an hour or so of tedious but symbolic strolling about, the critical moment arrived. The villager known as the “Pompous Japer” stepped forward, resplendent in his purple top hat, and declared a particular tree to be the chosen one. The Japer then insulted the tree unconvincingly for 5 minutes or so before finishing with ...

Following the prickly pear incident, Uncle Leucocholy insisted on dressing as a deep sea diver whenever close to cacti. When asked about this behaviour he would always reply, “L’objet d’art, par définition, est le crocodile empaillé”.  It is interesting to note: Uncle Leucocholy did not speak French. Uncle Leucocholy could not swim. Uncle Leucocholy once wore a pair of faux crocodile shoes to a performance of Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

Despite his instinctively optimistic view on meteorology and his strong desire to witness a full day's play at the Cocklawburn Beach Cricket Club and Campanology Academy, the Professor was forced to admit that the weather conditions did not look propitious.