Alsace Lorraine du Totteridge
When we are young and foolish we make decisions which are ill-informed but appear to be a good idea at the time. In my case I chose to do ‘A’ Level English Literature. This was in the late 70’s but I doubt that the teachers are any different today. I had two main bugbears. One was what I like to call bollocks-speak (paraphrasing George Orwell in his seminal work ‘1984’ – you see, I’m doing it now) and the other was the constant search and apparent finding of incredible depth of meaning in a work of fiction.
Oh my goodness me we had to put up with some dreadful turgid nonsense. Thomas Hardy (depressing), Keats and Yeats (bonkers desperately dull poetry, the former said in part to embody “ negative capability”). The inevitable Shakespeare - some good stories, but gracious, what bottomless depth of meaning was read into the scribblings of a man who was simply writing hard to keep the creditors at bay. “Let me see”, he must have thought to himself, “Shall I get these pages off to the actors or shall I struggle for more depth of meaning? ”
Eventually and in desperation I asked my teacher what particular brand of bollocks speak the examiners wished to hear? He kindly obliged and I managed to blag a “result” as Big Ron Atkinson would say.
However amidst this large pot of literary bilge we were compelled to study, watch in the theatre and read, there was a piece called, “Waiting for Godot” by Samuel Beckett. It’s about two chaps (named Vladimir and Estragon) who are waiting for a bloke called Godot to arrive. Spoiler alert – he never does. The tedium is punctuated by the arrival (twice) of Pozzo and his mute Lucky. The play is said to embody the French concept of ENNUI. A sort of French version of crippling debilitating boredom.
And so I arrive at Mr Arsene Wenger.
For it came to me whilst watching “Fever Pitch” the other day, that what Mr Wenger brings us is pure unadulterated Ennui. A desperate hopeless boredom. A boredom apparently without end. WE ARE Vladimir and Estragon, Pozzo and Lucky.
I am reminded (chillingly) of an oft repeated piece of text from the play.
(Vladimir) Lets go !
(Estragon) We can’t.
(V) Why not?
(E) We’re waiting for Godot.
If one imagines that the phrase “Let’s go” means lets get moving, let’s improve Arsenal Football Club and push onwards and upwards, then the following T-shirt might be appropriate. Printed on the back would be “Ennui” atop the symbol for infinity and on the front the legend :-
Lets go !
We can’t.
Why not?
We’re waiting for Wenger.
After all. When he speaks. You have never heard quite so much bollocks–speak in your life.
