Note 1

Posted by Genjo on September 13th, 2008 filed in Notes

One day in late April 1971 I was astonished to receive a note in a re-used envelope with a London postmark. On a small sheet of crumpled paper I read the following type-written note: ‘Interested to hear of your interest in my work. I’m in the UK for a month researching moths & clouds. If you wish I could perhaps give a talk at your art school. In the spirit of Sherlock Holmes please post a note for me in the personal column of the Guardian newspaper and suggest a date for my visit. I will contact you again in due course. Heinrich Wohl’. At first I assumed it was one of my friends, but they all denied any involvement and I realised I had only mentioned Wohl to two close friends who I trusted completely. It seemed impossible that he could have heard about my interest in his work, let alone find out where I lived and be curious enough to want to contact me. I was a nobody and he had argued with Sartre for God’s sake! But I kept thinking, hardly anyone knows about him, perhaps he’s pleased to hear of my solitary advocacy for his ideas, maybe he’s never been to Wales and this is a remotely plausible reason for a visit.

After a few days I decided I had nothing to lose by putting a brief ad in the Guardian. I wrote: ‘Herr Wohl, thank you for your note. We would be honoured if you could speak at a symposium here on the 8th May. We could pay your expenses and a small fee. Best wishes, JD’. Over the next few days I waited and read each day’s personal ads over and over again. But there was nothing. I began to realise that it had all been a practical joke and I racked my brains trying to work out who could have done it. Then, a few days before the event, I received a telegram from London: ‘ARRIVE CARDIFF STATION 1500 THURSDAY WEARING SPOTTED TIE PLEASED TO PARTICIPATE IN SYMPOSIUM GOOD WISHES HEINRICH WOHL’.

The next few days passed in a blur of imagined meetings, handshakes and introductory speeches to the symposium crowd. But, as I should have guessed, all my imaginings were short-lived and in vain. Wohl didn’t arrive. His absence was nevertheless the pivotal moment in the symposium. I delivered a short nervous statement about Wohl and his work. I read out his telegram. For years afterwards, on the odd occasions when we met, friends and acquaintances from those days would ask me about Wohl. Had I heard from him? Was he still alive? Where could they get his book? But I had heard nothing more from my enigmatic correspondent and I have no idea what became of him. But his absence is profound and occasionally I come across brief sayings of his which I add to my small collection. One day I might try to publish an account of how I nearly met him and how important he has been to me.