The diary of a writer-publisher: 38

21 April 2026
A one-to-one meeting in the RSC theatre at Stratford with Tamara Harvey, Co-Artistic Director. In October I had printed out from the RSC website the two-page publicity for her production of The Cherry Orchard in the Swan Theatre 10 July-29 August and sent it to her with ten robust criticisms written on it. ‘I owe it to you to say,’ I wrote, ‘that on the basis of this blurb you are heading for disaster with ORCHARD’. Wherefore, Patrick, put it so strongly/rudely? Well, this is an opportunity for the RSC to stage the first successful production of Cherry Orchard in the history of our subsidised theatre, and they owe it to us to do that. The publicity was chock-full of crass inaccuracies about the nature of the conflict in Chekhov’s play, its narrative, and the Russian historical context. Frankly, I could not believe that Tamara Harvey had written it. Alternatively, though, she and Laura Wade (the creator of the ‘version’ they are using) were simply out of their depth.

I am still not convinced that they know what they are doing, but I do, of course, humbly thank Tamara for her positive, tolerant, generous and forgiving nature in inviting me to meet her and talk about it. This happened after I wrote to her in January congratulating her on the choice of space for her production (Peter Hall’s characteristically lavish NT production was killed simply by the wrong space, as he admitted to me himself), and offering my consultancy. Since then I had sent her extracts from all Chekhov’s letters on the play, the whole of my up-to-date literal of it (already used for two major Irish productions), and a survey of English misconceptions about the Russian original and plot.

Helen Hunt: a possibly inspired casting as Ranyevskaya
© 2026 Royal Shakespeare Company, promotional materials for The Cherry Orchard

Why am I ‘still not convinced’ etc? Well, although our conversation ranged exhaustively and delightfully over all the characters in the play, over key productions since 1961, Kenneth Branagh’s possibly excessive charm for Lopakhin, the difficulty of Sharlotta Ivanovna (according to Chekhov the ‘most difficult part’ and the ‘only one’ he liked), the perennial question of whether Yasha is Ranyevskaya’s gigolo, etc etc, I still was not told whether the publicity actually reflected Tamara’s and Laura’s view of the play, or was written by PR people wanting at all costs to ‘sell’ the two ‘stars’ and churning out conventional wisdom (crap) about the state of Russian society in 1903. Tamara revealed very little of what she intends to do with the play — other than ensure that it is a comedy, which would certainly be great, as long as it wasn’t phoney comedy/RSC stage ‘improv’ stuck on to Chekhov’s throughline. It was surprising, to me at least, that there seemed no settled script for the production yet and only two parts had been officially cast.

Nevertheless, Tamara Harvey asked me to send her ‘everything’ and said she will ask me whatever she needs to. Marvellous. I concluded by thanking her for forgiving me my dreadful Meldrewism, and she kissed me saying ‘I am allowed to kiss you, it’s theatre’. As she exited, however, she shot back: ‘I hope you enjoy [my production of] Henry V — and I’m sure you will tell me if you don’t!’ I managed to expostulate ‘No, no!’. We saw the production that evening and were blown away by it. Great ensemble. Watch this space…

7 May
Jim Miles (Goat2) has now submitted the corrected second proof of my book of short stories The White Bow/Ghoune to Amazon for their first proof. It lacks the back cover, which is graphically complex and will take us some time to get right. But we have a breathing space in which to do that, because, Jim said rather mournfully, there would be ‘quite a long wait’ for Amazon’s first proof, by which I think he means longer than for our other three books they have printed. On receiving this news, I trotted out my mantra that ‘so many books are now being written that soon even Amazon won’t be able to cope’!

Goat2’s belief, though, is that the way to maintain our publishing standards is to ‘sand the book with finer- and finer-grain papers’, i.e. not to be in too much hurry between proofs or read them too quickly. Goat1’s version of that  has always been the Russian saying ‘measure the cloth seven times but cut it once’. Even with this slower progress than usual, the book should be out only about four weeks behind schedule, i.e. around 15 June. No problem. An appropriate business meeting at Polonia restaurant will then be called.

12 May
Taken aback to see the death aged eighty-nine of ‘Experimental poet and Cambridge don’ J.H. Prynne announced in The Times today. I have been reading and not understanding Prynne’s poetry since Kitchen Poems of 1968, but I don’t intend to get embroiled in that controversy; it’s a matter for the philosophy of language. The point for me is that he was extremely encouraging ever since he became my tutor at Caius College in 1967 (remember, at Cambridge a tutor is for moral and general well being, not teaching: Prynne was Director of Studies in English, whereas I was a student of Russian and German). He told me of travel grants to help with going to Germany and Russia in the vacations, and procured them for me himself. When the option of a dissertation in Russian to replace a Finals paper — which I had signed up for and was researching on my undergraduate gap year in Moscow — was suddenly withdrawn by the Faculty, Prynne personally remonstrated with them and I was allowed to submit what I believe was the only one ever. When I returned from Russia for my final year, he asked me to supervise some of his English Literature students in their Russian translation paper. This was incredibly innovative and trusting of him, seeing that I had not even graduated! Thereafter, I supervised in this subject for nearly ten years as well as assisting his efforts to build up the Russian section of Caius Library (he was the Fellow Librarian). All his communications were meticulous, efficient, jovial and kind. His wine parties were certainly demanding, but his claret of the very best. Here is a typical invitation from him (1987):

Jeremy Prynne’s individualism and protection of his privacy are infamous and exemplary. It was said that on National No Smoking Day, when other Caius Fellows refrained,  he would take a cigar from the tobacco box offered at dessert and smoke it, although he never otherwise smoked, simply to assert his freedom not to endorse state conformism. When he married in 1969 without telling anyone, he was said, as the Times puts it, ‘to have responded to a polite request of a colleague about his wife’s name with a curt “Mrs Prynne”.’ The version I heard, as a twenty-one-year-old, was that the Fellows asked him whom he had married and he replied (smiling): ‘Oh, a friend…’ Shortly afterwards I bumped into them both on Trinity Street and they looked very happy. I am glad I have kept all his correspondence. It was always sudden and calligraphic. On one occasion, he sent me a photocopy of a very short manuscript Russian poem (by Mikhail Kuz’min?) with surrounding decorations rather like Blake, asking me to translate it for him. It was very difficult to read, let alone translate, and took me about a week. R.I.P.

15 May
SOME HAVE IMPOSTORSHIP THRUST UPON THEM
Feeling rather weary after walking into town, I took a taxi back to our nearest landmark, the Catholic church. The driver insisted on delivering me to the church’s front door in its spacious car park. I did not want to reveal to him that I’d economised by leaving myself the last 500 m to walk home, so I just looked inside the church whilst he drove off. The doors are of that ‘assisted’ kind that you have to start with a heave. When I emerged, a man was just outside, holding a rosary of enormous wooden beads, so I held the door open for him to go in. ‘Thank you, father,’ quoth he. Goodness, it took me back to 1972-73 when I used to deliver translations to the Moscow Patriarchate editorial office and as I walked through Novodevichy Convent’s grounds little old ladies would bow low to me and say ‘Kind day to you, batiushka!’ (‘little father’). Back then, it was the beard that did it.

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SOME RESPONSES TO GEORGE CALDERON: EDWARDIAN GENIUS 

‘This meticulous yet nimble book is bound to remain the definitive account of Calderon’s life’ Charlotte Jones, The Times Literary Supplement

‘The effort of detection, it must be said, was worth it. The biography is a delight to read.’ Emeritus Professor Laurence Brockliss, The London Magazine

‘It is a masterly synthesis of your own approach with scholarship and very judicious discussion of the evidence.’ Emeritus Professor Catherine Andreyev, historian

‘This comprehensive, meticulously researched and highly readable biography, which the author describes as a “story” rather than an academic biography…’  Michael Pursglove, East-West Review

‘A monumental scholarly masterpiece that gives real insight into how the Edwardians viewed the world.’Arch Tait, Translator of Natalya Rzhevskaya’s Memoirs of a Wartime Interpreter

‘The book is written with great assurance and the reader always feels in safe hands. I liked the idea of it being a story and I read it the same way I would read a novel.’ Harvey Pitcher, writer

‘Presents the Edwardian age, and Calderon in particular, as new and forward-looking.’ Emeritus Professor Michael Alexander, in Trinity College, Oxford, Report 2017-18

A review by DAMIAN GRANT appears in the comments to Calderonia’s 7 September post.

A review by JOHN DEWEY appears on Amazon UK.