It was Matthew Arnold who first dubbed Oxford as “the city of dreaming spires.”
It really is a magical place. A place with strong ties to fantasy. To Philip Pullman, Alan Garner, William Morris, Diana Wynne Jones, Neil Gaiman, and of course the Inklings, among them C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. A grand company. Understandably, I was honored when I was invited to return there in November, to address the Oxford Union, and sign a few books.
I spoke on November 4, to a full house.
It was a daunting assignment, given the speakers who had gone before me over the years. Writers, actors, politicians, poets, comedians, scholars, celebrities of all sorts. Some gave long serious speeches on the issues of the day, others focused on literature, war and peace, love and sex… everything was fair game. For me, I knew it was my writing… A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE in particular… that had inspired the Union to invite me. So I decided to talk about my life, and my beginnings as a writer.
It was a lovely evening. I understand why Tolkien… and all the rest… loved Oxford so much. My hosts were warm, bright, so hospitable, students and scholars both.
Alas, my hopes of enjoying g a pint or two at the Eagle and Child, where JRRT and the Inklings drank and talked and argued, were dashed. The pub is still closed for renovations. Maybe next time. (Oxford did boast a truly outstanding Indian restaurant, where I had the best Indian food I’d ever tasted).
Maybe the Bird and Baby will be open the next time I make it to Oxford. I do want to come back one day. Those dreaming spires cast a spell.
loved
contemplative
