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Alan Bennett

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Alan Bennett on BBC4 tonight looking and sounding ready for his DL debut. I've seen healthier hands on skeletons. Still mumbling along but I had to put subtitles on to make him out. About two years left tops imo, reminds me of my grandfather in his last year.

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Thanks for the reminder msc - yer man's 90 next year, in the DL frame, then. The obits - as and when - will likely talk in detail about how Beyond the Fringe opened the floodgates for the generation that produced Monty Python and The Goodies and led to an almost institutional camping of Oxbridge talent at the top end of British comedy. Oddly, Bennet was the oldest of the Beyond the Fringers, few weeks older than Jonathan Miller and older than Dudly Moore (b. 1935) and Peter Cook (b. 1937) and - hadn't realised until now - they've basically died in the order of youngest to oldest. 

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10 minutes ago, maryportfuncity said:

Thanks for the reminder msc - yer man's 90 next year, in the DL frame, then. The obits - as and when - will likely talk in detail about how Beyond the Fringe opened the floodgates for the generation that produced Monty Python and The Goodies and led to an almost institutional camping of Oxbridge talent at the top end of British comedy. Oddly, Bennet was the oldest of the Beyond the Fringers, few weeks older than Jonathan Miller and older than Dudly Moore (b. 1935) and Peter Cook (b. 1937) and - hadn't realised until now - they've basically died in the order of youngest to oldest. 

Following in The Goons footsteps.

 

Peter Sellers 1925-80

Michael Bentine 1922-96

Harry Secombe 1921-2001

Spike Milligan 1918-2002

 

They've also followed in that firstly the mercurial "haunted by demons" one died far too young (Cook/Sellers), then the seemingly healthiest of the three took unexpectedly terminally ill (Moore/Bentine), then there were two left, one with more health issues than the other, only for the other one to decline more quickly after a batch of illnesses (Miller/Secombe). Meanwhile the oldest one that had all the health scares in life outlives the rest (Bennett/Spike).

 

irc Betty White was the oldest Golden Girl but Rue (the youngest) died after Bea Arthur and Estelle Getty.

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Bennett has written a yearly diary for the London Review of Books since 1983. It is printed in the first LRB of the year and this month it is conspicuously absent. In his October 2022 entry he wrote "these days I’m often confused by what day it is, not to mention the date." I took it to be self-deprecation but given that his mother suffered from dementia, that he is 89 years old, and now the absence of his diary, it takes on a darker tone.

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1 hour ago, errorgorilla said:

Bennett has written a yearly diary for the London Review of Books since 1983. It is printed in the first LRB of the year and this month it is conspicuously absent. In his October 2022 entry he wrote "these days I’m often confused by what day it is, not to mention the date." I took it to be self-deprecation but given that his mother suffered from dementia, that he is 89 years old, and now the absence of his diary, it takes on a darker tone.

 

To add to this, he would also narrate a version that was posted every year on the LRB YouTube channel. Similarly absent.

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1 hour ago, errorgorilla said:

Bennett has written a yearly diary for the London Review of Books since 1983. It is printed in the first LRB of the year and this month it is conspicuously absent. In his October 2022 entry he wrote "these days I’m often confused by what day it is, not to mention the date." I took it to be self-deprecation but given that his mother suffered from dementia, that he is 89 years old, and now the absence of his diary, it takes on a darker tone.

 

https://x.com/lrb/status/1737463721130103287?s=46&t=8wIlQ43b9SxaQrrsf4MLtA

 

“He says his life is so dull he won’t inflict it on LRB readers. If it suddenly gets more interesting he promises he’ll let us know.”

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From his 2010 diary, not health-related but might be of interest to deathlisters:
 

Quote

13 August. When I go up on the train to Leeds I’ll generally sit in the same seat, often in front of the same businessman, who must also be a creature of habit. We chat, though without really knowing one another, and today as we’re getting out at Leeds he tells me that he’s been staying with friends in East Anglia. He had mentioned that he often sees me on the train whereupon his hosts had looked rather sheepish. It turns out that at their work, office or whatever they have a sweepstake to which they contribute every month with the participants drawing various well-known names from a hat; the winner being the one whose named notable is the first to die. I am one of their names.

They haven’t had a win for some time, their last bonanza coming with the death of Spike Milligan, who died in an otherwise fallow period so the pot had grown quite large, which it isn’t always: if two names die within a month or two of each other when the pot hasn’t had time to accumulate the winner will only get a paltry sum.

I laugh about this when he tells me, but I find it depressing to think that even in a lighthearted way there is at least one family in the kingdom waiting (if not longing) for my death. I don’t know what the monthly contribution amounts to but were it substantial I suppose a game like this might even lead to murder – even if it’s only a murder such as occurs in Midsomer.

It’s also another instance of ‘write it and it happens.’ Towards the end of The Habit of Art Humphrey Carpenter tells the ageing Auden and Britten that they have reached that stage in their lives when even their most devoted fans would be happy to close the book on them: no more poetry, no more music. Enough. It’s not the same but still, the thought of anyone who for whatever reason would be happy to see the back of you is disturbing even if it’s a joke. Good plot (or sub-plot) though.


 

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