The Professor Peregrine Papers

The Professor and I were greatly honoured last year to make the acquaintance of Dr Twanketen Overmorrow, visiting Solivagant Scholar and noted exponent of the contrabass clarinet. Her discourse on the inference of quantum effects in the elegies of Sextus Propertius will never be forgotten in these hallowed halls and surrounding parishes. However, late one evening, following a notable dinner based upon a series of variations on Battenberg cake, she confided to us that she had been troubled and intrigued by dreams relating to the works of Guillaume Apollinaire. She described a recurring dream as “debout devant le zinc d'un bar crapuleux designed by James Ensor”.  The Professor recommended an increase in jasmine tea consumption and a reduction in the amount of liver sausage prior to retiring for the night. However, on subsequent evenings, we did hear plaintive notes of the contrabass clarinet drifting through the air in the early hours. Shortly afterwards, at the end of her sojourn, D...

The Professor's celebrated book, ‘Cor Blimey! The Country Wife Goes To The Sand Dance’, dealt with the popular depiction of philosophy, literature and fulminology in the period from the English Civil War to the outbreak of the Second World War. However, the Professor recently confided in me that, if time had allowed, he would have included some later phenomena such as the recorded output of Mr Paul Anka, the later works of André Masson and the repertoire of Thelonious Monk from 1955 to 1965.  It was, however, the omission of the work of the Scamander Duo that he regretted most keenly.  Their performances reflecting on major philosophical works prior to the 18th century and, in particular, their critique of Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes resonated strongly with the Professor. Unfortunately, their masterpiece ‘Look Out, Missus! It's a Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes’ was comprehensively ignored when first performed in 1957. This may have been in part due to its 7 hour duration, although ...

Professor Withington Marsh has for many years been a trusted colleague and intellectual sparring partner of Professor Peregrine. To this day, Marsh is a strong advocate for the concept of the collective unconscious and believes that recognition of archetypes may hold the key to a truly fulfilled existence. (“He's so Jung, at heart,” the Professor likes to joke at dispiritingly frequent intervals).  Central to Marsh's current research is the belief that taking an opportunity to relate ancient, familiar and resonant tales in a leisurely manner will provide a new understanding of their importance, lead to a more satisfying “inner life” and present clues to the probable winner of the Grand National and other noteworthy horse races. I admit to a degree of scepticism but, one wet afternoon last summer, the Professor and I agreed to join Marsh in an attempt to validate this theory. 1 - We commenced by recounting the well-known, simple tale of the gardener and the crab. I confess that...

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...

For many years the Professor has enjoyed the pastime of riding the derny bike in order to pace struggling amateur cyclists in pursuit of their keirin racing dreams. Lately, however, he has expanded this hobby into new areas in an attempt, as he puts it, to “uncover profound consequences and increase the chances of being offered girdle scones”.  On a recent visit to The Tytherton Lucas University and Sandpaper Repository, I was greatly cheered to witness the Professor heading across a somewhat neglected meadow pursued by Professors Nippitatum and Spong as they debated an obscure aspect of the ‘pataphysics of 'pataphysical modes.  I cannot recall witnessing a more heartwarming and inspiring sight in recent times.  Well, possibly apart from Mr Norman ‘Nongermane’ Griffonage playing his celebrated forward defensive stroke for several, uneventful hours on the cricket green at Muchlarnick on a fine summer day and thus allowing the visiting team an entirely inconsequential draw....

Earlier this year the Professor and his closest academic colleagues celebrated Plough Monday in their traditional manner with fine displays of old metal buckets in several unexpected places. Happily, I did succeed in finding one of these secret locations. After admiring the aged containers, I took away one of the cards scattered in the vicinity and meditated on its meaning as I played a mixtape of Bernart de Ventadorn's greatest hits.  The following morning I awoke, as so often in the past, to what sounded like a robin singing Verdi while perched on a can of soup. 

The following Thursday, while the members of the academy were busy discussing dictionaries, Daniel Brereton experienced a powerful sense of familiarity as he walked through the fire garden.  Low-flying birds watched him with suspicion.

My dear (indeed, unreasonably expensive) friend Professor Peregrine has for many years been on the very best of terms with Pugil Jabbernowl, Professor Emeritus of Implausible Geography and Dwile Flonking at Stratton Strawless University. Professor Jabbernowl is probably best known in academic circles for his work “The Preston Gubbals Woodland Debate of 1902”. This exhaustive study of the momentous event, covering its causes, outcomes and catering solutions, remains a great classic amongst “those in the know.” Indeed, amid much celebration and egregious wasting of cash, an attempt was made to turn the book into a feature film entitled “Woodland Showdown”. It was never finished, of course. Professor Jabbernowl considers this a suitable metaphor. But, in recent weeks, relations have soured between these two paragons of British Academia. At first, my attempts to determine the reasons behind this falling out came to nought. But, after I concealed his television remote control during the hig...

It is indeed rare for the Professor to become reticent on any subject of academic interest, but he has asked me to make it clear to all interested parties that, following his lecture series given at Lanspresado College in Stretton Grandison, he has nothing more to add concerning the Banbury Egg Incident. He has asked me to stress that there is no point in offering very substantial cash fees in plain, manilla envelopes (sterling or euros), or cases of the finest Armagnac (aged for at least 20 years) or even Test Match tickets (preferably at Lords) to make him change his mind.  Although, being a man of honour, he is willing to listen to such foolish offers purely in a spirit of politeness.

In the course of an evening stroll to the newsagents to purchase the latest edition of “The Square Leg Fielder's Quarterly”, the Professor began reminiscing about some of his former colleagues. “Professors Brabagious, Ricksteddle and Catterning spent many years travelling the less populated parts of Devon and Dorset in an attempt to complete their work on the tea and water biscuit ceremony reputed to take place annually in those parts on St. Benedict's Day. Everywhere they went, they were greeted by cheering crowds but, sadly, failed to find any trace of the fabled ceremony.”  The Three Professors and Mrs Ethel Slump The Professor paused and stared wistfully at a skein of geese crossing the sky, before continuing in a sad and leaden tone. “Rumour has it that they were often accompanied by a ghost called Mrs Ethel Slump, but I've no time for such tomfoolery. They were last seen setting out to sea on a makeshift raft somewhere near Budleigh Salterton. ”

The Professor has always held Steehop Latibulate, Lecturer in Indeterminate Philosophy and Controvertible Vexillology, in the highest regard. His admiration is not based solely on Latibulate's renowned lectures, with their inventive use of cowbells and sealing wax, but also on his less academic undertakings. As the Professor was at pains to point out: “I remember with great affection Latibulate's sterling efforts back in 1983 when he established The First Annual Festival of Walking Up and Down A Hill For No Very Good Reason in Higher Muddiford. Has there ever been a finer example of whatever it was he was on about?”

One afternoon our conversation turned to augury and soothsaying for no good reason that I can recall. As usual, the Professor had an anecdote to tell from his long and convoluted life. “Many years ago I had occasion to visit the residence of that notable expert on Italian Pipe Cleaners and aficionado of the ciaramedda, Professor Stefano Cavatappi. Although a man noted for his pauciloquy and ineffectual juggling, he insisted on attempting to divine my future by staring into a wine bottle." "He informed me that I would become a successful but languorous plumber and that I would adopt the name of Jimmy Spangles. So far, this hasn't happened. But, in his defence, he did accurately predict the number of no-balls in the next Test Match against Australia.” 

As I have previously implied , the Professor is the world's leading authority on the cycling tour that the eminent author and madeleine enthusiast Marcel Proust undertook in the county of Norfolk. In the course of a peer review of the Professor's recent paper on the subject (‘An analysis and critique of the Burnham Overy Staithe off-break bowling technique in volume three of “À La Recherche du Temps Perdu”’) a number of scoundrels masquerading as eminent academics or members of the MCC have questioned the reliability of evidence relating to this pedal-based activity. The Professor would never sink low enough to enter into discussion on this point but, on his behalf, I offer a picture taken from the North Creake Gazette. It purports to show Proust playing cards with 2 Merchant Bankers, a Passing Sailor and a Marchioness just outside of Mundesley. I rest my case.  Actually, I rarely carry a case for fear that I may forget where I rested it.

After finding the Professor hiding out in his garden shed pretending to look for an esoteric barometer, I insisted that we return to discussion of the artistic side of his illustrious career. The Professor is known for his loquacity on most subjects but oddly silent on both his artistic endeavours and his idiosyncratic stint as a Lasker Morris adjudicator.  During his time as visiting lecturer at the Odstone College of Fine Arts and Herb Strewing, the Professor created a memorable, site-specific work at Barton in the Beans. The work entitled “Intimation Wall” required that a specific wall should be observed for an entire week. The Professor pointed at the chosen wall early on the Monday morning before wandering off somewhere for the remainder of the week. The observers were told to expect a “precipitous manifestation” during the ensuing days. People came from far and wide to play their part in the experience and, at the end of the week, absolutely nothing had happened. The Shackers...

Recently, the Professor and I visited The College of Raffish Waistcoat Makers and Bematists in Potterhanworth Booths as guests of the Provost, Professor Tobias Maffled. This hallowed institution is, of course, dedicated to Roland Bell of Blessed Memory and his single, first-class appearance for Surrey.  Following an excellent lunch consisting largely of salmagundi and pottage, we were about to take our leave when we passed a door emblazoned with a finely-worked plaque: “The Morton Bailey Memorial Room and Bar”. Two shrouded figures armed with what appeared to be wooden replicas of The Racing Times guarded the door.  The Provost appeared embarrassed and haltingly explained that access was forbidden to all but a select few. It is said that a game of milking cromock has been in continuous play in there for at least the last 70 years. The players are apparently replaced occasionally in the event of unforeseen insanity or death.  The Professor and I removed our fedoras and bow...

I'm sure that many of you will be very familiar with the long-running “Spot The Emeritus Professor” competition in that admirable magazine "The Church Pulverbatch Academic and String Winders Gazette". I recently had a near miss with my entry pointing out Percy Woofits, Emeritus Professor of Applied Numismatic and Thumb Pianos at  Middleton Baggot University.  I ventured to show my entry to Professor Peregrine, who laughed so hard at my schoolboy error that he missed an entire over of questionable leg spin in the match we were watching.  “My dear chap, that figure is clearly Archibald Pooley-Wavering, Emeritus Professor of Theoretical Numismatics and Ocarinas at Lower Netchwood College.”  Of course, he was right and the prize of a month's supply of Osborne biscuits was awarded elsewhere.

I have often urged the Professor to cast a little light upon some of the less documented periods of his life. Eventually one Tuesday afternoon last spring, as he sipped a cup of particularly doubtful Lapsang Souchong, he recalled a quite unexpected episode of many years ago:  “I must confess that there was a disturbing period of approximately 3 weeks in which I was pursued by a robot. At the time I was attempting to publish my now-famous and, dare I say, groundbreaking paper entitled ‘Formidophobia in the Sermons of the Reverend Mawkin Barcarole’. I was so unnerved by this paranormal episode that publication was delayed by some months. I surreptitiously took this photograph at the time.” I studied this image for several minutes before venturing to suggest: “Forgive me Professor, but I can't help noticing a striking resemblance between the robot in this photograph and Professor Atrabilious of Kirmond le Mire University, dressed in a ludicrous costume. Professor Atrabilious is, I bel...

The Professor was in a pensive but loquacious frame of mind recently following a particularly agreeable game of pitch penny in Wickham Skeith. There wasn't a dry eye in the house when, once again, Arthur 'Toad-in-the-Hole' Shellbottom was declared Champion Pitcher and Foremost Penny Ruminator.  Taking a long draught from his pint of Dringey Forplaint Special Ale, the Professor began his solemn tale: “Shellbottom's great-grandfather was the principal reason that my own ancestor became an academic and funambulist. The two men were great rivals in the hatting business, vying for the role of principal supplier of doubtful hats to the Federation of Minor Cricket Umpires and Croquet Mallet Makers. My great-grandfather thought he had the edge on his opponent with his use of the finest gutta-percha in his much-admired, multicoloured trilbies. But there was no way he could compete with Shellbottom's development of a range of ventilated hats named after British politicians of...

The following notes may shed some light on an obscure but significant period in the Professor's life. Following disagreements with the senior staff at Trewellard University (reportedly involving the efficacy of deploying a leg slip), the Professor left to become Artist Out of Residence at Aston Botterell. It was here that the Professor created the ground-breaking performance art piece "Make Mine A Double". This site-specific piece at the local brewery lasted for nearly three months and involved many contemporary dance troupes, the postman, community volunteers, passing dog-walkers and 18 chickens. The local press enthusiastically described the event as "taking place". To this day, the Professor refuses to explain the piece more fully save to say that "The meaning is subjective, yet the subjective has meaning. And the eggs came in very useful." Shortly after this performance, the professor left to take up the post of Directeur Sportif of the cycling tea...

In an attempt to acquire the status of reliable biographer, I decided to interview some of the Professor's ex-colleagues and other mountebanks in order to record their reflections on his career and table manners. Oddly, most of them seemed to be untraceable or to have entered religious institutions which insisted on a vow of silence.  I did, however, receive a reply to my request for an interview from Hildebrand van Hildebrand, Emeritus Professor of Imaginary Solutions at Strabismus University. That reply consisted largely of a recipe for bridecake but concluded with the following heartwarming memoir: “How we laughed in that long-lost but fateful summer! How we relished the talk of our aspirations, of our hopes and of our admiration for the cover drives of Walter “Wally” Hammond at the Oval on a challenging pitch in poor light conditions!  I will always remember the advice of dear old Peregrine as he raised his head one evening from his habitual study of the aphorisms of Mr Cl...