A Doubtful Guest: Impressions from a year at the Stout Centre

Abstract

I came to the Stout Research Centre well before my official term as PEN Fellow (February and March 1991). I inherited a room in the basement of 10 Wai-te-ata Road from Dorothea Turner, and moved into it in October 1990, with my notebooks, my postcards of Fra Angelico, Giovanni Bellini, Donatello; and with my rainbow-flasher fridge magnets. The japonica outside my window was still in bloom; wax-eyes bumbled among its branches sucking nectar. Between the trees I had a view, a small serving of blue water. Everyday I walked from my flat on the Terrace, along Wai-te-ata Road, under - I fancied - a 'flowering Judas', a wattle, I believe. I wrote my essay 'Afraid', and a submission to the Indecent Publications Tribunal. People lost in the maze of paths through the university gardens tapped on my window to ask directions, one was Ken Douglas, cowled in a wet, grey nylon coat, caught in a downpour while looking for Policy Studies.