Cardus, Celebrant of Beauty. A Memoir.
Robin Daniels/Palatine. £25.
THERE are some books that you know will stay with you always.
For anyone interested in cricket or music, there was one man whose reports you could scarcely wait to read.
Neville Cardus was the writer who could take you there, to the boundary or to a seat in the concert hall.
His knowledge and understanding of both disciplines was exemplary. But what made him revered was his passion, his ability to carry a moment in his mind and to selflessly share it with others.
So for a Cardus devotee, Robin Daniels’ book is a sheer delight, a memoir to treasure.
It is a companion to have nearby. A reminder of days when life was shaped very differently, when the great performers whether they be on the cricket pitch or the concert platform, could be made to live on thanks to Cardus’s skill with words and his ability to fire the reader’s imagination.
Robin Daniels’ loving memoir has also created powerful portraits of those who were influential in shaping the writer many would come to revere.
As a young man, Cardus immersed himself in books and music. He took on all manner of jobs before finding his spiritual home at the old Manchester Guardian.
Here his creative talents were nurtured by remarkable men such as the newspaper’s editor, Charles Prestwich Scott whose blend of charm and authority appear to have brought out the best in his writers.
Cardus was certainly clear on his role. When asked for advice by a young writer with aspirations to be a critic, he replied: “Your first duty as music critic, is to compensate (so far as is possible on a newspaper’s arts page) your readers for missing the pleasure of attending the concert or recital.”
Few would have the gifts to deliver what sounds quite simply the essence of any reporter’s job.
But as you delve into this memoir, it will serve to remind you that between the reporter and the writer, there is sometimes a chasm usually dug by time and filled only by patience. Cardus had both and much more besides.
VAL JAVIN
