The End of the Affair at Sheffield Hallam

 News on the wireless this morning that Sheffield Hallam University is withdrawing its Eng Lit course. I can think of good reasons to justify that but theirs isn't one of them. It's because their Eng Lit graduates don't end up in highly-enough paid jobs.

It's a shame it has come to this, that the point of reading books is to make oneself a big pile of cash. 'Study' and 'education' were once for their own sake and having done something worth doing for its own sake for three years one could then append a diploma that fitted one for a profession. The relationship between poetry, especially, and money has never been an easy one and I'd prefer they kept each other at arm's length for their mutual benefit. But, for Hallam University, an appreciation of Shakespeare was only ever a stepping stone to an executive position, a 4-bedroom house in Surrey, cruises and a car better than those one's friends have.

To be honest, university taught me very little about Shakespeare. The professor whose seminar group I was in was the worst teacher I can remember. His lecture on Donne was more about himself than it was about the great Metaphysical poet and my heart sank when he was appointed to read my dissertation on Marvell. But, to be fair to him, he said he didn't agree with a word of it but had to accept it was well argued and, given more time, I'd have been 'first class honours'. I now realize that the missing time was that spent playing pool and going to see The Clash, Elvis Costello and Public Image Limited.

But I can see advantages in taking Eng Lit off the syllabus. As I understand it, it's only been a university subject for a hundred years or so anyway. Before that it was understood that one read literature in one's own language for oneself, in the same place that pop music has occupied for students more recently. One did Classics, knew Latin and Greek, Horace and Eurypides, and read Shakespeare and wrote one's own poems for leisure. I'm not sure what I'd have done in 1978 to qualify for three years of grant. Probably Geography, and I dare say Hallam will be reviewing if that is sufficiently monetarizable soon.

But the advantages if taking Eng Lit out of university are worth considering. It will mean an immediate end to those reams of half-baked essays that doctors and professors have to sit through and think of a kindly mark for. Somebody I knew at university once met the Head of English in the changing rooms after playing squash.

- Oh, do you play squash?

- Yes.

- Are you any good?

- No, not really. 57,58.

Which my friend suddenly realized was the very mark the professor had given his last essay.

The academic staff will be further saved the difficulties of thinking of new areas of research. An Approach to the Phantasmagoria in Dylan Thomas, New Lines in the Solemn Apoplectics of The Beat Generation, The Spider in the Bath - Metaphor and Simile in Marianne Moore. Not all of them need writing but, unlike the great Monica Jones who wouldn't do it, publication of significant work are what academic careers on based on, not teaching. Teaching takes some doing. I once met a Creative Writing lecturer/poet who had to give their students ideas to write about ( ! ). Surely that shouldn't be necessary.

Literature could be read more openly, with more imagination. I've spent more than 40 years now trying to recover from the 'education' university provided me with. I'm not particularly grateful for that. Some of the best, most insightful readers of poetry I've met since seem to have greatly benefitted from not having been through the process. I have to admit I wanted to get as good a grade as I could get and so wanted to say the right thing, which made one 'orthodox' at the time but many of the orthodoxies being promoted in English departments between 1978-81 are not quite so 'gospel' now.

Sheffield Hallam's decision has much to be said for it even if the motivation for it is misguided. But good decisions can be made inadvertently. I think there's a theory that Bobby Robson wouldn't have got England to the semi-finals if injuries hadn't made him change his midfield. I forget the details.

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Although it seems a bit late to be having seminal moments in pop music history, one could not miss Paul McCartney and Diana Ross at Glastonbury.

Paul is well aware that the Wings back catalogue is much less liked than the Beatles songs, and we heard why early doors in a succession of non-descript songs with unimaginative titles. Dave Grohl and Bruce Springsteen were brought on as gloriously big name surprise guests. They are not young men, either, but they're younger than him. Why they are so idolized by people of a certain age was perhaps explained by what I briefly saw of an act called Years and Years. I didn't understand it. I felt like the Wright brothers in their bi-plane being overtaken by a space shuttle invented by Elon Musk.

I thought Paul's voice had gone, although he could still do some high notes, until it came to Diana Ross who, I have to admit, simply couldn't find the tune. And quite why she finished with a cover version, I Will Survive, when she's got the most glorious back catalogue of Holland-Dozier-Holland masterpieces, I don't know. She might say it's all about 'love, love, love' but it's more about the brand. 

However, it's a brand I'm devoted to and even if I'm Still Waiting didn't work it was still very moving. A lot of credit goes to the backing singers for when it sounded most like Tamla Motown. 

But Miss Ross is 78 and Paul is 80. One might be tempted to say they're the two biggest names in pop music still living. We never thought, in the 70's, they'd still be doing it to such vast crowds by now. We've been living in a time of Heritage Rock and Pop for most of our lives. Although The Beatles were inevitably my first love, after Doris Day, circa 1964, it's Miss Ross that makes me feel like crying, and only for positive reasons, now.

As a third essential choice, I'd like to have seen the Jesus & Mary Chain, iconic indie pop genius, but can't find it anywhere.

I'm sure it will turn up somewhere in due course