Obituary: Martin Fagg
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.AS WELL as his unique achievements in literary competitions, Martin Fagg was a brilliant, inspiring English teacher, writes James Pettifer (further to the obituary by Paul Griffin, 25 August).
As head of department at King's School, Worcester, in the late 1960s, he brought verve, colour and vast energy into an environment that had a good deal in common with Trollope's Barsetshire and the late 19th century around Worcester Cathedral and its school. With his sharp suits, brilliantly coloured kipper ties fresh from the King's Road and wide-brimmed black hat set at a rakish angle, Martin seemed like a figure from outer space as he hurried about his work among the elderly canons and ex-colonial servants around College Green.
He brought a vast, encyclopaedic knowledge of English literature to the classroom, and a fascination with the process of literary creation that inspired even the most unpromising pupils. He made the tradition seem living, and nothing pleased him more on a hot summer afternoon than to set his pupils some parody competition that would enable them to discover something of a great author's methods.
But he found Worcester provincial and unwelcoming, and he left, too soon. And he had no time for the stranglehold that politically 'correct' literary theory was placing on literature teachers and writers. He was a real Sixties man, like Joe Orton: literature was energy, subversion, anarchy.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments