The Professor Peregrine Papers

Some years ago the Professor's work “Sylvan Ascendance” caused a considerable amount of perturbation almost amounting to a prototypical brouhaha. The question of how apparent levitation could be achieved was discussed at length by art critics, aeronautical engineers, savants and other rampallions.  In preparation for this work, the Professor was known to have instigated a process of non dualist meditation and trampolining but was also rumoured to have been seen installing a system of wires and hoists. He now refuses to discuss this brief period of his life in any way. Although one night shortly before the last winter solstice, following a tasting of aged Calvados, he did disclose to me in confidence that, “I'm damned if I could remember how to get the unfortunate participants down again.” Shortly after this mystifying spectacle, the Professor moved on to take up the post of Principal Curator of Unexplained Trinkets at the Pudleston Bauble Museum.

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 ...

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.

Walking back from an agreeable lunch in that fine hostelry “The Trumpet and Monocycle”, the Professor and I engaged in a labyrinthine discussion on the merits of pickled eggs and Breton's use of the phrase “le jeu n'en vaut pas la chandelle” in the first Surrealist Manifesto.  We came to no firm conclusions.  This was due, in part, to my umbrella bursting into flames.

You may well have heard of the Parisian Painting Machine, constructed in an attempt to relieve the “Grande pénurie d'art” in the 1890s. (This was, history leads us to believe, an entirely imaginary painting shortage invented by M. Tartempion, who found he had in his possession a gargantuan surplus of canvas to sell). As luck would have it, while the Professor was undertaking a field trip to aid his research into the pataphysical implications of white holes, he came across what he believed to be the derelict remains of that very machine in a barn just outside Purse Caundle.  After many months of  restoration work and not inconsiderable piles of cash, I'm pleased to say that the machine has recently produced a particularly unpleasant cup of espresso and the following “fine art” rendering of a bucolic landscape complete with waterfall. M. Tartempion would have been so proud of this spectacular success.

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...

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...