MY OTHER ALAN FENNELL STORY...

Alan Fennell and unidentified Thunderbirds pilot.  Photo by Roger Elliott

No, that doesn't mean there's another ALAN FENNELL (well, not one who concerns us), only that there's another story about the legendary writer and editor to tell, which I promised to relate a good many months ago.  (I always get around to things eventually.)

During the course of one of several telephone conversations I had with Alan (may even have been the first one) in the mid-'90s, he mentioned that he used to come to my home town in the '60s to a tenpin bowling alley situated just along the road from where I then lived.  (In fact, my father used to work there, although I can't remember if he still did in 1965.)

Apparently, Alan's wife had friends or relatives in Scotland and, whenever they visited them, they would take the opportunity to come along to the bowling alley in question.  This led me to wonder aloud to Alan about the following 'what if?' scenario, which perhaps isn't as far-fetched or as unlikely as it may at first seem.

The actual bowling alley

Basically, I speculated as to whether Alan might ever have passed me in his car on his way to the bowling alley as I made my way home reading TV21, seen me, and said to his wife and friends: "Hey, that kid's reading my comic."  (A road to the alley ran past the foot of my street and was a regular route of mine.)

I was struck by the notion of perhaps being in close (but fleeting) proximity to the editor of my then-favourite comic without ever knowing it, and Alan, being the kind soul he was, indulged my flight of fancy by pretending (I assume) to be as fascinated by the idea as I was.

Not long after, Alan dropped me a letter containing a photocopy of a chocolate Dalek recipe I remembered seeing (and which had once resided for years in my mother's cookbook) in an early issue of TV21 (# 28).  This is part of what he said in his letter:

Go on - make some.  You know you want to

"Take a look at the photograph above.  [The recipe.]  Dear Roy Castle was one of the nicest people I have had the privilege to be associated with - and I remember this photo set-up and the lunches we had whilst promoting the Doctor Who and the Daleks film.

So, I'm grateful to you for reminding me of those days - and even the bowling alley!"

******

I never met Alan face-to-face (though he may have passed me in his car), and I didn't know he had died 'til a year or two after the fact - but somehow his not being around any more at times fills me with the kind of sadness normally reserved for friends and relatives.

He really was that nice a person.

******

For my first Alan Fennell story, click here.

KID KLASSICS: CALLING A SPADE A BLOODY SHOVEL DEPT...

Images copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

Once, in a world far away and now forgotten, there was an objective standard by which things were measured.  Alas, however, that was very long ago.  Today we live in an age of dumbing down.  Exams made easier so that more students pass; participants in a primary school race all being awarded prizes so that no-one is disappointed or feels humiliated; people being given jobs on the basis of so-called positive discrimination rather than ability or merit.

There are no longer winners or losers, no longer good or bad, right or wrong, black or white - or at least that's the way it often seems in this 'bright new world' of the 21st century.  Excellence may still sometimes be rewarded, but, all too often, so too is mediocrity.

  

In the world of political correctness in which we live today, everything is valued as being of equal worth.  That’s why a pile of bricks or half a sheep in a glass case are now accorded the same artistic legitimacy as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, or Rembrandt and Constable paintings.  What utter tosh.  To claim that the measure of a thing’s worth is defined by whether people like it is ridiculous.  Appreciation is no indication of quality or craftsmanship.  Other criteria must also be brought to bear.

I can quite understand the natural reservations of those in any working 'community’ to make critical comment (at least publicly) on the merits of one another’s work; there is a professional courtesy at play which prevents them from doing so.  In some ways that’s a good thing, but let’s be honest – it also allows those of lesser or no ability to infiltrate the ranks, simply because it’s not regarded as ‘good form’ to point out the failings or inadequacies of others, or to unmask the impostors.

One of the reasons why the standard of children's literacy, as an example, is so appalling today is that everything created for them is aimed at their level.  That’s why many of them never progress to a higher one – they aren't enticed or encouraged or motivated to.  If you give them nothing but inferior quality, that’s what they learn to appreciate.  But what if children like it?  Children have the capacity to like whatever is put in front of them, but that's no excuse for giving them substandard fare.

Without wishing to offend anyone, there are certain strips in the current incarnation of The Dandy which simply don’t measure up to an objective standard.  And don't be misled by those who claim there isn't one.  It's that kind of woolly thinking that has resulted in unmade beds on display in art galleries.  Also, there are some art styles which do not readily lend themselves to the medium of sequential storytelling in general, or children’s comics in particular.

Contrariwise, Ken H. Harrison, for example, has a fantastically fluid art style and brilliantly clear sense of storytelling that fulfils the highest standard expected of a comic strip.  He is the only artist to draw The Broons and Oor Wullie who has even come near - or is on - the same level as Dudley D. Watkins, talent-wise. There are some who don’t even come close, judging by the standard of the work they submit.  Could they do better?  Perhaps, but what they are doing just doesn’t cut it.

And before I'm subjected to the same old tired, predictable and erroneous accusations of envy, bitterness, etc., etc., I’m merely speaking as a comics consumer, not a former professional comics contributor.  I am not comparing those whose work I dislike against any level of artistic ability I perceive, pretend, imagine, wish, or delude myself I may have, but rather the recognized 'greats' of yesteryear and today.  Artists of the calibre of Bave, Baxendale, Brown, Grigg, Harrison, Law, Main, Martin, Mevin, Millington, Nadal, Nixon, Parkinson, Petrie, Parlett, Paterson, Reid, Ritchie, Sutherland, Titcombe, Watkins, and a whole host of others far too numerous to mention.

   

Today we live in an age where the utmost quality is no longer the main consideration - or even a requirement.  In short, anything goes.  Unfortunately, one of the first things to go was a regard for standards.  We can only hope that it's due to make its return sometime soon.

******

(First posted September 16th, 2011.)