readprof03 Reading
Dimitris Sclias
Please read the passage and the questions under it carefully and Choose the correct answer A, B, C or D. (only one answer is orrect)
I owe my start in life as a writer to Benedict Nicolson, editor of the Burlington Magazine. Immensely tall, with a haunted and cadaverous appearance which belied his equable and cautiously optimistic nature, this distinguished man, hearing that I was to be living in Paris, mentioned that I might like to send him reviews of the major exhibitions. I am still amazed by this act of generosity. I was a graduate student, inexperienced in the ways of the world, yet armed with Ben's confidence in me, I looked forward to my monthly assignment. I fancied myself as a journalist, whereas I was nothing of the kind. Ben paid me the compliment of treating me as part of the magazine.
Mr Hipkin, the advertising manager, had the task of raising the revenue to finance the magazine. To this end he enjoined me to urge gallery owners to take space in the Burlington, an enterprise which failed owing to my lack of the sort of determination needed to bring it off. Ben was not much perturbed by this, being absorbed in the scholarly studies which he shared with his contributors. He was as reserved about his own researches as he was about everything else. He surrounded himself with an aura of doleful calm, which was used as a shield against the small nuisances of daily life. Hipkin wrung his hands: the magazine continued majestically on its underfunded way.
When I returned to London, Ben mentioned, with equal lack of preamble, that I might like to write regular reports on the London sale rooms. This again was an act of trust. I asked Ben how I should proceed. He said I could do what I liked.
Being a man, Ben was judged incapable of feeding himself, and his dinner parties were catered for by a relay of female friends who spent most of the evening in his kitchen while he sat at the head of his table, a courteous and attentive host. I never heard him utter a spiteful remark, even in these informal circumstances, or refer either to his distinguished family or to his career in military intelligence. He liked young people, but he did not patronise them. I suspect that he possessed a certain na?ve curiosity which was at odds with his faintly alarming demeanour. For a man of his worth, he was unspoilt.
We never lost touch, even when I was no longer working for the magazine. By 1970 I was back in Paris and someone had taken my place. Ben would occasionally turn up in Paris, and it seemed odd to see him outside the confines of the office, although the mournful shake of the head, followed by an explosive and immediately suppressed giggle, did not seem to change. Although I was absorbed in the book I was writing, it seemed odd to be operating without a mentor, which Ben had always been. It is not too much to say that my apprenticeship took place under Ben's guidance, which was all the more generous for being unobtrusive.
Ben died suddenly at Leicester Square tube station one evening. The loss was severe. My own gratitude remains undiminished by the passage of time. Those years at the Burlington were ones of great happiness. People seemed to behave more reasonably in those days. Acts of kindness were more common than at the present time. Of all the acts of kindness that came my way none was greater than Ben's: he conferred on me the precious - and unique - conviction that my presence could be taken for granted. He was a true friend.