Concrete Pencil: Infant karma

By John Hill on July 1, 2009 9:16 AM |

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The returning Dan Bourke resents the accusation that his muse has been run down by a speeding pram

There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hallway - although the allegiances of the Bugaboo Bee in the kitchen seem yet to be chosen.

That first bit is a quote from Cyril Connolly, a critic and writer who also said: "No city should be so large that a man cannot walk out of it in a morning," which is very hard to disagree with.

Another of his is: "Inside every fat man, there is a thin man struggling to get out," which I wouldn't know anything about.

His pram quote, though, is wholly dislikeable. Not that I'd know good art if it waggled its willy in my face, of course, but still - I've as much right to an opinion as anyone else.

It's not so much the practicalities of it - I'm sure the infant in the next room will start squawking again soon enough. It's his use of the word "sombre", with which he seems to be prettifying a pretty feeble excuse.

"Dear Giles Broadbent, The Editor, I am late filing the old Concrete Pencil because the pram is in the hallway and vapid burble has no enemy more sombre."

Anyway, my observations about parenthood (after a grand total of nearly two weeks at it) are as follows.

If you are a procrastinating, idle sort who views work as a tiresome diversion from swimming and reading, and if you find yourself thrust into parenthood, I can report that your character brings you some advantages and disadvantages.

On the plus side, in this exciting first fortnight of father-or-motherhood, you will find that relaxed is normally best. Obviously, it's handy karma to have someone around who's a bit more of a worrier than you. They'll enable your "calm down, everything'll be fine" skills to really come into their own.

Also, late in the night, when the crying's just stopped but you're still in charge, you'll find you have a practically inexhaustible supply of DVD boxsets to keep yourself and the swaddled bundle entertained till the boob comes back out at dawn.

There are downsides to your nature though. Work has always been a necessity-ish, but you could always entertain yourself with workstation dreams of cottages in the countryside and six-figure book deals and Irish wolfhounds.

Those dreams have vanished, and they went quickly. What's more, if the feelings behind them aren't going to die entirely then you'll have to actually put some work in and make the dreams actual, boring plans.

There's some toil in the rearing too, of course, although so far that's been mostly a pleasure. Reading and swimming take a back seat too.

Other than that the only real downside is your incapability of talking about anything else.

But, as Connolly also said: "We must select the illusion which appeals to our temperament, and embrace it with passion, if we want to be happy."

And this all may well be mine.

Dan Bourke also prattles on at blogs.mirror.co.uk/opposite-of-work