Malcolm Bradbury - The History Man

'No,' says Felicity, 'she said that you shouldn't bother to wait up for her. She thought she might be quite late. She says these evening classes often go on a long time.'

'Well,' says Howard, 'you seem to have made a hit. Are you ready now? I'll drive you back to your flat.'

'There's no need,' says Felicity, 'I'm staying. Barbara asked me to. She told me to make a bed up in the guest bedroom.'

'The window's broken in the guest bedroom,' says Howard. 'I know,' says Felicity, 'I've fixed it with cardboard and tacks.'

'Are you staying right through to the weekend?' asks Howard. 'No,' says Felicity, 'I'll have to go back to the flat, and sort out my stuff, and tell Maureen. She'll be raging crazy. But I just feel so happy in this house. You don't mind, do you?'

'I'm not sure it's a wildly good idea,' says Howard. 'Don't worry,' says Felicity, 'I shan't expect anything of you. I'll just be about, if you ever want anything of me. I'm feeling very sensible at the moment.! 'I see,' says Howard, 'are there any more surprises you ought to tell me about?'

'I don't think so,' says Felicity. 'Oh, there was a message. Professor Marvin rang. I told him you were at a psychological meeting, and he asked if you'd ring him back when you got in.'

'I'll do it now,' says Howard. 'Let me get you a drink first,' says Felicity. 'No,' says Howard. He goes out of the kitchen, into the darkened hall; then he goes down the stairs into the basement study. The curtains are undrawn; the town light shines in. He switches on the overhead light and sees that Felicity, despite her enormous domestic activity upstairs, has found time to come down here and visit, for the typescript of his book, which he had tidied up and put in a neat pile on his desk before he left the house this morning, now lies scattered once again in a disorderly mess around the canvas chair. He can hear Felicity moving about upstairs, and the pots clashing in the sink, as he sits down at his desk chair, reaches for the telephone, and dials a number. Outside, through the grilled window, he can see the familiar shapes opposite, the stark railings, the jagged houselines, lit in sodium glare. The telephone trills; the receiver is lifted at the other end. 'Kirk,' says Howard, 'I've been asked to ring you.'

'Your babysitter's very efficient,' says Marvin's voice at the other end, 'I gather she's one of our students.'

'Yes,' says Howard. 'I'm sorry to drag you to the telephone after you've been out at a wearisome meeting,' says Marvin. 'How dedicated my colleagues are. While I, I'm ashamed to say, have been sitting at home in domestic tranquillity. I'm afraid the meeting this afternoon tired me badly. And worried me.'

'I can imagine,' says Howard. 'But I'm not ringing about that,' says Marvin, 'I must bear my woes. No, guess what I did to pass my time this evening.'

'I can't imagine,' says Howard. 'picked up Carmody's essays,' says Marvin. 'Hardly the most exciting way of passing the time,' says Howard. 'No,' says Marvin, 'a dull and tedious experience. The trouble is, and this is why I rang you, it's also a worrying one.'

'Why did it worry you?' asks Howard.

'Well,' says Marvin, 'have you ever thought what a difficult and strange business our practice of assessing students is?'

'I've often condemned it as completely artificial,' says Howard, 'but it happens to be our practice.'

'Trying to place a man on a scale of virtue, saying whether we deem him to pass or fail, trying to reach an objective standard.'

'Though all judgments are in fact ideologically subjective,' says Howard. 'Yet we agree to try,' says Marvin, 'we agree we can reach a consensus of judgment.'

'Not all of us,' says Howard. 'Do I take it that you're questioning the marks I've given Carmody?'

'Let me put it like this,' says Marvin, 'I wonder if, quite informally and out of hours, we might discuss them.'

'You mean you think Carmody's essays are good?' asks Howard. 'No,' says Marvin, 'they're bad and problematic. The trouble is they're evasive, they don't meet the tests you've set the man. But they also have intelligence, shrewdness, and cultural insight. The problem is to assess the level of the badness and the failure.'

'I see no problem,' says Howard, 'they're outright, failing bad.'

'I've read each one three times, Howard,' says Marvin. 'Now markers frequently disagree, and have learned ways of resolving their disagreements. My impression its simply that you're not using our elegant marking scale, with its plusses and minusses and query plus minusses, with quite the delicacy you might. So I found, reading them, that I often had here the sense of a C, there an intimation even of lower B, where you go for the full punitive weight of the outright and explicit F.'

'I see,' says Howard, 'and how did you come to be a marker of Carmody's essays?'

'Oh, by right, Howard,' says Marvin, 'you see, as I'm sure you know, marks here aren't finally awarded by individuals, but by the university. In practice the university is a board of appointed examiners. We're both examiners.'

'I don't agree,' says Howard, 'so I won't discuss Carmody's marks with you. Those marks can only be judged against his entire performance in my classes, which no one else can see and estimate. I've judged him, as his teacher, and you have to trust me, right or wrong.'

There is a pause at the other end, and then Marvin says, 'So my informal solution doesn't appeal to you.'

'Not a bit,' says Howard, 'I don't propose to look at Carmody's essays again. I don't propose to look at Carmody again, or have him in my classes.'

'Oh, dear,' says Marvin. 'Oh, dear, dear. A failing person? Is he really a failing person? We require a very high standard of nothingness for that.'

'I think Carmody meets all he criteria of nothingness you can devise,' says Howard. 'Then I'm afraid I shall have to register my formal dissent from you, Howard,' says Marvin. 'Now, naturally, I've done a bit of homework on this, and there is a university procedure when examiners disagree. We refer the matter to other examiners, and that I propose to do. I shall have Carmody's essays photocopied, and get all your marks and comments deleted, a not inconsiderable secretarial task, but one necessary to ensure justice. I hope that seems fair to you.'

'No,' says Howard, 'not at all. You're not marking Carmody, you're marking me. You're challenging my competence as a teacher, and I question your right to do it.'

'You, er, feel still that we can't settle this informally,' asks Marvin. 'No,' says Howard, 'I think you've got yourself a real bone of contention.'

'Well, excuse me for disturbing you at home,' says Marvin, 'I strongly disapprove of disturbing my colleagues in their leisure hours, but it seemed worth the try. How's Barbara?'

'Well,' says Howard. 'Good,' says Marvin. 'Goodbye, Howard.'

'Goodnight,' says Howard, and puts down the red telephone.

For a moment he sits at the desk; then he hears, and identifies, a small noise from upstairs. He gets to his feet, and goes up into the hall. The hall is darkened; but there, in bare feet, in the butcher's apron, is Felicity, a few feet from the telephone, looking at him. 'You were listening,' he says. 'That was private, Felicity.' Felicity smiles at him, appearing not to grasp the point. 'Oh, Howard, darling, what's private?' she asks. 'Private is doing business in my own house without it being interfered with,' says Howard. 'Isn't that rather a bourgeois attitude?' asks Felicity. 'Get ready,' says Howard, 'I'm taking you back to your flat.' Felicity puts her back against the wall; she says, 'I'm not going.'

'Oh, you are,' says Howard. Felicity's eyes brim with tears. 'Look at all the work I did for you,' she says, 'wasn't that good? Let me stay here.'

'It's an impossible situation, Felicity,' says Howard. 'Now come on to the car.' He takes her arm; they move down the hall. 'No,' says Felicity, pulling her arm free, 'you're being very silly.'