Liripoops
I get an upwelling of glowing pride whenever I switch on the TV or radio or open a book or periodical to find my grandmother there, being interviewed or talked about. It's the same when someone I vaguely know says to me, "I found this really cool theory of human evolution the other day--get this--humans used to be aquatic!"
I love it when people recognise her amazingness, even though it tends to be a different kind of amazingness from the one I know and have grown up with. She has been something of a role model for me: her innate confidence that being a woman or a nobody need never hold you back from your dream; and, more especially, in the way she treats people. She is open to the goodness in everyone, and is a living demonstration of the fact that, if you are eternally trusting, you'll seldom be betrayed.
She has spent much time travelling the world to take part in conferences, presentations, lectures, and posh do's--not just meeting heroes of mine like David Attenborough, Richard Dawkins, Douglas Adams... but being approached by some of them as ardent fans of her work. For years, I've wished I could join her at one of these things, and meet all these wonderful people talking about their fascinating careers; but for some reason I never felt able to ask. And since Grandma always assumed such things would be boring as all hell for a young person, it never occurred to her to invite me.
I was visiting her last month, and she mentioned that she's decided to retire from public life, because the travelling is getting a bit much. She would only be attending the engagements she had already agreed to, the last of which was the granting of a Fellowship at Cardiff University.
"This one's special," she said. "My other fellowships were for the drama, but this is the first time I've had recognition in Britain for the science stuff."
I wondered how many fellowships she had had. She tends to leave us family members to find out her news by accident.
"Can I come?" I blurted.
"Of course!" she said, surprised and delighted. "It'll probably be as boring as all hell, though."
"I don't mind," I said.
Because it had been booked months in advance, I wasn't able to attend the dinner with her; but I got to see the ceremony and be consumed with pride and pleasure. We and my uncle were picked up from her house by a chauffeur-driven Mercedes Benz and driven to Cardiff. The building and surrounding streets where we were dropped off were awash with graduands, swishing about in their flouncy black robes with the coloured satin trims to signify their areas of study.
We were ushered to the third floor, to a small robing room where the VIPs got decked out in the flounciest robes and silliest hats of all. It was fabulous. There was complimentary booze to boot.
Grandma was helped on with a robe that covered her hands and lay in rumpled folds at her feet. There was a small kerfuffle as the fitters and Important University People tried to find a Fellow's robe short enough for her, and then they tried her with about eighteen floppy hats until one fit perfectly. The Special Robes had long, pocket-shaped pieces of fabric attached to the cuffs.
"These are called liripoops," she told me, and observed to the room in general, "they would be excellent for shoplifting."
The graduation ceremonies were being piped to a screen up in the corner of the room, and when it was time, Grandma was led away, and my uncle and I we were taken along a carpeted corridor to balcony seats where all the families had been put. We were with the Vice-Chancellor's wife and the husband of Sara Parkin, Grandma's fellow Fellow. An organist ensconced in the far wall played triumphant music as the university staff marched down the aisle and took their places on the stage. The purpose of all those people at the back of the stage was to sit there and look foppish for two hours.
They were followed by the VIPs and those with more complex roles to play. All the graduates in front of us trod the red carpet to receive their handshakes from the Vice-Chancellor and general applause from the rest of us. Once the Batchelors and Masters, Philosophers and Doctors had all received their accolades, it was Grandma's turn. The orator gave a speech about her life and work, then presented her with her scroll and she was red-carpeted and handshaken, and then she made a speech with some exhortations and laughs in it and a mention of her new website. I have no photos of any of this, because I was busy videoing it. Besides, she was largely obscured by the podium, with the microphone pointing at her hat.
When it was Sara Parkin's turn to make her acceptance speech, her first words were to Grandma: "I just want to say what a tremendous honour it is to be sitting next to Elaine Morgan. I'm a huge fan of your work."
I was so proud. SO proud!
