Coat Follow-up

Below are a few images of some of our more renound members in their coats:

 

J.R.R. Tolkien in his lovely, furred number.

Old Knock Wardrobe: The Coat

How does the Old Knock stay warm on those blustery days as he scrambles from his warm domestic dwelling to the local chapel or library?  Why, through the use of his outer coat, of course.  In our modern age of well-heated everything, the importance of the outer coat—except for outdoor activities—has gone the way of the Dodo.  But, as with many relics of years past, the outer coat is still in wide use among the Old Knock set. 

As can be imagined, this outer covering is, above all else, practical.  Practical in the sense that it keeps the wind and rain off of one—not practical in the sense that it doesn’t get in the way at times.  As with the trousers and jacket, the outer coat provides the Old Knock with yet another cache for a variety of useful items—pencils, string, books, apples, pipe and tobacco, coffee mugs, etc. 

For the shape and color of this article, it too falls in line with the rest of the wardrobe—it is essentially shapeless and it’s color is impossible to define.  Both of these qualities come from the hand-me-down origins of the item, along with the abuse it has taken.  For it is not merely to be used as a coat, but as a cushion for sitting on tombstones while making rubbings, or placing under one’s head while napping under a tree.

 

Many an Old Knock’s coat is military in origin—as many of this crew, being romantics at heart, have, indeed, served their respective countries.  However, the military starch is gone (often times, along with the belt, which is why so many are gathered about the waist with string or an old tie).

A Pipe in the Garden

I thoroughly enjoy E.F. Benson's Lucia series.  I have written before about Lucia's poor husband, "Pepino".  In the following excerpt from Lucia in London (1927), Pepino is at his Old Knock best:

"He was sitting in the garden in very old clothes, smoking a pipe, and thoroughly enjoying the complete absence of anything to do.  He was aware that officially he loved the bustle of London, but it was extremely pleasant to sit in his garden and smoke a pipe, and above all to be rid of those rather

hectic people who had talked quite incessantly from morning till night all Sunday.  He had given up the cross-word, and was thinking over the material for a sonnet on Tranquillity..."

The Life of an Undergraduate at Oxford

I am a new fan of The Edwardian Promenade.  In the post for September 11th, an article on an American's observations of Undergraduate Life at Oxford was presented.  I include an excerpt from it below, as it provides a snapshot of what life was like at Oxford in the 1890s.  Enjoy!

The day of an Oxford man is somewhat different from that of an American student. He rises at eight, and goes to chapel, and from chapel to breakfast in his own room, where he gets a most substantial breakfast—I never saw such substantial breakfasts anywhere else — or, what is more likely, he breakfasts with some one else in some one else’s rooms. This is a most excellent and hospitable habit, and prevails generally. So far as I could see, no one ever lunched or dined or breakfasted alone. He either was engaged somewhere else or was giving a party of his own. And it frequently happened that after we were all seated our host would remember that he should be lunching with another man, and we would all march over to the other man’s rooms and be received as a matter of course. It was as if they dreaded being left alone with their thoughts. It struck me as a university for the cultivation of hospitality before anything else.

The Old Knock in Love

The concepts of "The Old Knock" and "Love" do not easily meld.  I am afraid to say that the Old Knock, in general, is not particularly adept in the art of love.  It is unsurprising to find that most Old Knocks are not wed, or if they are, they did not participate in the Holy Act of Matrimony until well into their later years.  (Once has only to consider the grand C.S. Lewis, pictured above, with his wife Joy.)  The fact that some Old Knocks actually have been known to reproduce is nothing short of extraordinary.

The cause for this lack of romantic excellence is due, almost entirely, to the primary focus of the Old Knock’s life: their field of study.  Lest we forget, an Old Knock is defined almost entirely by his (or her) devotion to intellectual pursuits.  This does not leave one much time to master the finer graces required for wooing.

Take for instance P.G. Wodehouse’s Gussie Fink-Nottle.  Here is a young man devoutly committed to his beloved newts.  Is it any wonder that at the moment he hopes to, as they say, “seal-the-deal” with his beloved, he hopelessly flubs it?

Young Fogey A La Mode

I have been trying to get my hands on a copy of The Young Fogey Handbook, but I'm too cheap pay the fifty-plus it would take to purchase a used copy.  I've managed to round up what appears to be Chapter two and I am posting them below. 

Old Knock Wardrobe: Dressing for Services

(Sorry that it has been so long since my last post.  I took to summer off to work on other projects--namely my children and a failed garden.)

I must admit that this summer’s weather has definitely caused The Old Knock to lower his own standards in dress for most occasions.  (Not that Old Knocks in general are known for fine dressing.)  However, there is one occasion in which I have done my best to stand firm: the Church Service.  We find ourselves in a time when Churches are attempting to be as welcoming and comfortable as possible—an idea which I whole-heartedly support.  I feel that, for too long, the doors of the Church have appeared shut to too many people who did not fit a certain type.  However, there is something to be said about dressing a bit more formally on Sunday.

Growing up, I was taught that it was important to look one’s best for Services, because it showed respect to our Lord.  I think this is a fine explanation—although it may cause an immature believer to feel that one must “dress up” in order to be acceptable to the Lord, which is never the case.  It is merely showing Him that these ceremonies are important enough to us to be sure we are turned out well.

But there is another issue that I think supports a more formal attire for Church services.  When I put on a collared shirt, coat and tie, I am, to be honest, less comfortable.  A tie is not a comfortable thing—make no mistake.  I am not likely to take a nap in my jacket and buttoned-up shirt.  Wearing these things forces my body—and mind—to focus.  After all, we are “spiritual animals.”  What affects the body affects the mind.  (Which is why we have always been taught to get a good night’s sleep and eat breakfast before attending a service.  Why, after-all, do many Churches today offer coffee before entering a service?)

Now, dear reader, please do not mistake me—our Lord will accept us whether we are wearing a three-piece suit or flip-flops.  Our attire does nothing to make us more pleasing to Him.  However, I feel that it does influence the way we feel and, thus, impacts our preparedness to worship.  Think about it.

Worship Old & New

Sorry I haven't posted in quite awhile.  Life gets in the way.  Here is an excerpt from one of the books I've been reading, Worship Old & New by Robert E. Webber.  I will probably be quoting from this book and author quite a bit in future posts.  He very clearly sets out many of my thoughts on religious practice and is informing my view on historical Christian worship.

"Because worship is the enactment of an event, the organization of worship is not left to the whim of creative people or community consensus.  Rather, it is rooted in the historic meeting that has already taken place between God and his people.  This meeting, enacted by God's people, is the organizing principle of worship.  Therefore, the overriding feature of biblical enactment is the representation of history.

The Old Knock and Religion

Jean-Léon Gérôme's L'Éminence Grise

This is a topic that most Old Knocks would refrain from discussing in a public forum such as this.  That is not to say that the Old Knock is reticent to discuss matters of religion.  In fact, for many, it is a topic to consumes many of their waking hours.  However, please remember that the Old Knock is a retiring sort, who prefers to avoid any type of spotlight (which makes this blog ironic indeed—until one understands that the author never really thought anyone would read it!)

(A point of clarification may need to be made here.  While an Old Knock could, theoretically, come from anywhere on the globe, it should come as no surprise that, for the most part, the Old Knock type is European in origin or extraction.  The name itself comes from a derivation of a nickname for C.S. Lewis’s tutor.  Because of this, the average Old Knock will find himself or herself coming from a Christian origin by default, if for no other reason.  This is by no means absolute, but on average it does tend to play out.  It should also not be taken for granted that this means that Old Knocks are necessarily devoutly religious, merely that their background tends to come from a European Christian society.)

All this said, there may be some broad observations that may be made in regards to the Old Knock’s religious views. 

First and foremost, the Old Knocks love and reverence for historical tradition informs his or her approach to matters religious.  Many an Old Knock takes pleasure and comfort in the solid traditions of the past.  Knowing that there is a unifying tradition of rites, linking believers together around the world and across the centuries, is a comforting thought indeed.

Along these same lines comes another important aspect of the Old Knock’s approach to religion: the picking over of the minutiae of practice.  Typically, these arguments tend to be historical, not spiritual in nature—which is why many Old Knocks feel safe to impose their opinions on others. 

If brave enough, this Old Knock may begin addressing more of these topics in coming posts, but only if the dear readers will kindly correct him when he stumbles.

Being Modern

In Cary Grant’s 1960 film The Grass Is Greener, we see an old fashioned man fighting, in his own way, for his wife against a modern millionaire.  There is a conversation near the beginning of the film between Grant’s character, Earl Vitor Rhyall, and his butler, Sellers, in which the butler lays out for his master this particular conflict of being a non-modern man in a modern world.  In this scene, Sellers is concerned because he does not seem to be able to make progress with a novel he is writing.

Sellers: Almost certainly the basic trouble is myself.  I’m fundamentally happy and contented.  That’s bad enough of course.  But on top of that, I’m normal.  That’s fatal.

Victor: Hmmm you mean you’d prefer to be unhappy and abnormal.

Sellers: (Smiling) Of course.  You see I want to be a success and to be a success one has to at least start off by being modern.  Like yourself, m’lord, I’m not.  It means I have no feeling of insecurity or frustration.  No despair.

Victor: And that’s essential.

Sellers: First essential.  I feel perfectly contented, really rather blameless and hardly resent anything at all.

Victor: Tsk, tsk.  You are in a pickle, aren’t you?

The Young Fogey: An Elegy

(I have had a link to this article for some time, but I wanted to make sure that I could still find it when needed.  So, I've mercilessly cribbed it from The Spectator.  No disrespect intended.  In fact, I wish to pay Mr. Mount the utmost compliment by attempting to save his article for posterity.  --O.K.) 


The Young Fogey: An Elegy

Harry Mount mourns the extinction of young men who wore four-piece tweed suits, including ‘westkits’, and loved the old Prayer Book 

They’re playing rap music in the jewellery department at Christie’s South Kensington. In T.M. Lewin, the Jermyn Street shirtmakers, you can dip into a fridge by the cufflinks counter and have a frozen mini-Mars while you are leafing through the chocolate corduroy jackets.

But who is left to mourn these things? In the old days, the Young Fogey, the character invented by Alan Watkins on these pages in 1984, would have been in the vanguard of the protesters, shrieking and whinnying away about the desecration of his haunts. He is silent ...because he is no more.

Twenty years after his creation, the Young Fogey has pedalled off into the sunset on his sit-up-and-beg butcher’s bike, broad-brim fedora firmly on head, wicker basket strapped to the handlebars by leather and brass ties.

He hasn’t actually died. The two archetypes of the Young Fogey mentioned by Mr Watkins — the journalist and novelist A.N. Wilson, and Dr John Casey, Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge — were only in their thirties at the time, and so are now in their fifties and in rude health. But there is no one following in their footsteps and they have abandoned the whimsical attitudes that once defined them.

The grown-up Young Fogey — now, typically, in a position of power, as are Mr Wilson and Dr Casey — will live in some style, but he’ll no longer be interested in style. You might not even notice him in a crowd. Goodbye, braces with old-fashioned fasteners and trouser waistbands strapped perilously close to the nipple line. Farewell, frockcoats cut for long-dead Victorians. No more the endless pairs of black brogues. Hello, suit of modern cut. Hello, moccasins. Hello, loafers.

Old Knock Wardrobe: Trousers

Not much to be said about them, poor old things.  They rarely fit properly, are typically getting a bit warn and could use a good wash.  But they do keep us warm and mostly dry.  They are the Old Knock trousers. 

The cut is typically loose.  An old leather belt or old tie is used to keep them snug above the navel.  The Old Knock would normally prefer that they be a bit long, as opposed to short, to keep the drafts out.  Cuffs or no cuffs?  Who knows.  It depends on what was in style when the Old Knock left home for the first time all those years ago, because these are likely to be the same trousers he or she wore back then.  As always, comfort and durability are key.  The fabric tends toward natural fibers—not for any ecological compunction, mind you, but because natural fibers tend to be softer and last longer.  The traditional Old Knock will probably prefer a nice flannel or tweed in some earthy color along the lines of mud or soot—the better to conceal muddy cuffs and coffee stains. Deep pockets are another nice addition.  Old Knocks love to fill their deep pockets with an assortment of necessary equipment for their day.  Patches here should be kept to a minimum.  After all, one doesn’t want to look like a hobo—that’s overdoing things a bit.  Elbow patches are one thing, but knee or bum patches?  Really!

Old Knock Wardrobe: Tweed Jacket with Elbow Patches

There is no other item of clothing that is more closely connected to The Old Knock in the general public’s collective imagination (even if they are not aware of the existence of such a thing as an “Old Knock”) than the Tweed Jacket with Elbow Patches.  It meets all of the requirements for an Old Knock Wardrobe item: comfortable, durable, likely handed down from generation to generation, practical. 

A Month in the Country (1987 film)

This great novel does not translate well to the screen.  Colin Firth and Kenneth Branagh do an admirable job, don’t get me wrong.  But Birkin’s voice doesn’t come through on the screen.  In the novel he is much more humorous and self-deprecating, but there isn’t any real way to get this across on film, because Birkin isn’t the type of man to say the things on his mind.  While Firth does a fine job, his portrayal is a bit bleak.  While Birkin’s view on life is rather pessimistic, there is a certain romanticism, especially when dealing with his faith and the vicar’s wife that gives one hope.  The different ending is unbearable.  It’s as if the director knew that he had botched it and tried to give it a happy ending—which it really doesn’t have.  Not by any means the worst film I’ve ever seen, but it lacks the warmth and humanity of the novel.

E.F. Benson's Queen Lucia

Emmeline Lucas (Lucia) is the reigning queen of culture in her small village of Riesholme.  Things move slowly in the little Hamlet—the town gossips spend their days on the commons and neighbors spend their days looking out windows to see who is visiting whom.  There is at least one fine example of an Old Knock, but one could say that this is a town full of them. 

Lucia’s husband, Phillip (nick-named Peppino by Lucia) runs his own printing-press, where he prints his poetry.  They live together in a faux Elizabethan house (named “The Hurst” by its owners) with leaded glass and ancient beams exposed.  Poor Peppino would prefer to spend his days alone, reading and writing, but he is married to the matriarch of all that matters in Riesholme, and thus, he is thrust into the ebb and flow of all things “cultural”. 

One could say that Lucia herself could be considered and Old Knock in that she doesn’t want things to change.  She savors village life and society, wishing that teas, socials and recitals would remain the focal point of society for eternity. 

E.F. Benson

The Old Knock Home: The Chair

The Chair is a very important piece of furniture for any Old Knock.  This should not be confused with just any chair used during the day.  This is The Chair.  The Chair is the place where an Old Knock rests his or her weary bones for a long think.  It is not some new-fangled contraption with levers and pulleys.  It does not swivel.  It does not tilt.  It is stationary.  It is solid.  It is comfortable.  It is normally fairly worn from use.  Ideally, it should be as individualistic as it’s owner.  (It should not be part of a matching living room set.) 

A lucky Old Knock will have a leather-bound chair.  I myself have an overstuffed chair covered in woven fabric.  It has a high back and arm rests with a deep seat.  My Chair is not ideal, as it is actually part of a furniture set—but one makes do with what one is allotted in life.  A favorite blanket may be thrown over the back for added warmth on those cold autumn days.  Seated next to an open fireplace is preferable. 

Old Knocks Club: H.D. Thoreau

Just to show that Old Knocks don’t have to come from England…here is a man who exemplifies the Old Knock philosophy and lifestyle.  Henry David Thoreau spent a good deal of his life alone, studying nature, ancient texts and life itself.  The mind always came first for old H.D., as exemplified in his inability to maintain a steady relationship with another human being.  But not only in philosophy did this Old Knock fulfill our ideal.  He was also quite the dapper O.K. dresser—throwing on whatever was practical and handy.

Old Knock Past-Times: The Basics

What does an Old Knock do with his or her spare time?  After all, one can only spend so much time pouring over ancient tomes, mucking about damp old churches, or pondering the mysteries of the Universe.  So what does one do on the occasional night off?

Assuming the Old Knock can do anything other than their field of study, a few ideas come to mind.  As a majority of an Old Knock’s time is spent in the sitting position, many folks will decide to stretch their legs a bit.  Get out and see a bit of the world.  Whether they are a city dweller (in which case a walk about town is called for), or a bit more rural (in which a countryside hike is in order), walking is a favorite past time.  Along these same lines, the ever popular bicycle ride is always a choice.

However, perhaps all of that time spent in isolation is getting to the Old Knock, in which case a bit of human companionship is called for.  Conversation is the preferred form of human interaction, so don’t expect to find any of these folks in noisy bars or clubs. Instead, look in quiet coffee shops, restaurants or out-of-the-way pubs.  They may also belong to some sort of social club, organized around one of their areas of interest.

Finally, many an Old Knock will also turn that scientifically-ordered mind to a hobby.  Old Knocks are avid collectors.  It doesn’t really matter what the collection consists of, but it will typically be something either extraordinary or extra-ordinary.  Old Knocks are able to find the most remarkable idiosyncrasies in everyday objects.

Truth

One's only real life is the life one never leads.--Oscar Wilde

William Boyd’s Any Human Heart (2002)

Logan Mountstuart is anything but the typical Old Knock (if there is such a thing as “typical” when it comes to this rare species).  He is a world traveller and semi-adventurer (very un-Knockish).  He is a successful(?) lover of women—again, not on an Old Knock’s resume.  They tend to fall into love by accident.  And he spends much of his life searching for something to excel at.  He does finally find it—in his writing and art collecting—but he often is distracted from it by life. 

Logan Mountstuart is, to put it bluntly, a jerk.  He is self-consumed.  He is disappointed by the realities of this world.  This is where he becomes an Old Knock.  Mountstuart is a Romantic.  And, as a Romantic, he is constantly disappointed in life.  But he tries anyway.  This desperate attempt to make life what it should be, to live life as he would have it and not being willing to accept it as it comes, is what makes him heroic.

Logan Mountstuart is human.  All too often, he goes off the rails.  But it is his attempt to press onward that gives us hope.

William Boyd