Robert Twigger - Being a Man

Praise for Robert Twigger

Twiggers likeable, honest and humorously self-deprecating personality shines through... to produce an entertaining, thought-provoking book about the cost to men of civilisation

John Harding, Daily Mail

Twigger is a masterful stylist who manages to combine that uniquely English middle-class sense of self-deprecation with a genuine sense of pride in his achievements... theres no doubt that Twigger has managed to carve himself a decent corner in an otherwise saturated market Ian ODoherty, Irish Independent

In language of beguiling simplicity, he brings an almost poetic clarity to the complexity and conflict of modern maleness... He is sharp and extremely funny, especially on the subject of his own disasters... any suspicions you may have had that he might himself just be a lad in mans clothing fall away as you realise that hes grasping something of the utmost purity and importance: the fact that maleness, once properly proved and so integrated, becomes a non-issue and simply one more aspect of being... Robert Twiggers three previous books have already won him acclaim as a writer of enormous energy and originality. This one can only increase his stock still further with readers of both sexes, one would fervently hope. The question that remains is where on earth he will go next

Jamie Jauncey, Scotsman

Twigger is acute and disarming, and his book on manliness has the refreshing virtue of declining to see women as the enemy... Twigger is right to suggest that masculinity is struggling to find new proving grounds for itself, and his purple poem about the stars at the end shows that such moments can be inspired by ordinary life: by the birth of a child

Robert Winder, New Statesman

Twigger has striven to write a better book than any other man, anywhere, about manhood. It is good stuff. His self-deprecating humour works well Roger Howard, Time Out

Robert Twigger won the Newdigate prize for poetry whilst studying Philosophy and Politics at Oxford University. His first book, Angry White Pyjamas, the result of a year spent training with the Tokyo Riot Police, won the Somerset Maugham Award and the William Hill Sports Book of the Year Award; he is also the author of Big Snake, The Extinction Club, Being a Man, Voyageur and Real Men Eat Pufferfish. Robert Twigger lives in New Cairo.

... in the Lousy Modern World

Robert Twigger

A WEIDENFELD & NICOLSON EBOOK

First published in Great Britain in 2002 by Weidenfeld & Nicolson
This ebook first published in 2010 by Orion Books Copyright Robert Twigger 2002

The moral right of Robert Twigger to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978 0 2978 6390 8

The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martins Lane
London WC2H 9EA An Hachette UK Company

www.orionbooks.co.uk

To Mark, Martyn, Peter and Nigel

Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The exact contrary of what is generally believed is often the truth.

Jean de La Bruyre

Im driving past the immense white bulk of the hospital, which looms over the north of the town like shining marble cliffs marble cliffs of impregnable arrogance and assurance and Im turning over in my mind an unnerving piece of information: from next Tuesday all patients will be barcoded. My wife pointed this out to me in the local free newspaper, which usually has two front covers, one paid for by a local car dealer and featuring the latest piece of polished metal aimed at men who think that more possessions will increase... well, something about their lives, perhaps happiness, perhaps a sense of security or well being. So not on the front cover, but tucked away inside, and in the subversive manner of such local papers it presents the news as a boon, as something weve all been waiting for, possibly even a tentative solution to the ever increasing length of waiting lists. My wife made a joke, imitating her arm being dragged repeatedly through a barcode reader, just like at the supermarket when your marked-down tomatoes fail to register properly. My wife was joking but its she who will have to face the people behind the barcode innovation: in less than twenty-four hours she will be admitted to the hospital for a birth induction. As the time has got closer to this medical procedure its innocuous sounding title has ceased to calm and dissuade me that something bad is going to happen. I cling to the foetal picture of my child to be, squirming around in ultrasound scan land; he, and Im convinced it will be a he, though we didnt ask, gave me the distinct and overwhelming impression that he would survive the pregnancy, hed get that far at least. This intuition has helped curtail all my circling worries during these last nine months. Now the next stage looms and Im a lot less confident. There is nothing left to think except, I hope its over soon. My wife is going at five p.m. to be induced. They will introduce hormones into her body so that the baby she is carrying will be born.

My grandfather was away fighting in a war when his wife gave birth, and my dad was down the pub when I was born. Times have changed, things have moved on, and I will be there at the bedside holding my wifes hand in mine.

Lets face it, in the lousy modern world there is no such thing as manliness. There is no such thing as virtuous behaviour that only applies to men. Its better to get this one dealt with straightaway. I do not mean there arent sub-cultures which are sexist, Im talking about the formally accepted mainstream culture.

There are human virtues but there are no exclusively male virtues. Notions such as manliness are old hat now, best forgotten.

Im past the shining cliffs of the hospital, which far from being reassuring just remind me of all the sick people Ive visited, and of all the reports of iatrogenic illnesses currently being treated. In this hospital 15 per cent of the patients are there because of ailments caused by being in the hospital stubborn infections, mutant viruses, flesh-eating bacteria they all lurk within the clean, shining exterior of the marble cliffs. But now Ive passed it, and glad, like having passed a cemetery or a tract of new housing ruining farmland where you played as a kid, passed it and shooting down the offramp to Mothercare and all the other warehouse-size out-of-town megashops. I get in the wrong lane and someone toots aggressively. I look across and see a middle-aged woman in a brand new Volvo mouthing at me in a thoroughly unpleasant way. Jesus, I was only in the WRONG LANE FOR ONE SECOND, for Christs sake. It isnt even ten on a Saturday morning and the rage is building. Other peoples rage, I mean, not mine. I am determined to be very philosophical about driving, its the least I can do in this age of madness. As she roars ahead I notice the yellow Child on Board sticker in the back window.