By Lord Robbins
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While Alan Davies used to be transforming into up he looked as if it would force his kin mad. 'What are we going to do with you? ' they'd ask - as though he may possibly recognize the reply. maybe it was once simply because he got here of age within the Eighties. That decade of massive hair, greed, camp tune, mass unemployment, social unrest and actually shameful trousers used to be complicated for teens.
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It was highly desirable, therefore, that before that happened I should have a year or two of university study. This was a great shock and disappointment. I had just passed the fairly stiff London matriculation examination and was eagerly looking forward to a further year in the sixth form addressing myself, in company with those of my friends who were at a similar stage, to the preliminary stages of an arts intermediate. Preparation for matriculation had been very strenuous and dispersed over a very wide field.
Any inclination that I have developed for pure scholarship - and as life has gone on this has deepened- did not come until much later on. Nor at that stage had I any aspirations towards social studies as an academic occupation. Indeed, I do not think that the idea of going back to the university seriously entered my head. I was interested in something which to me at any rate, in the mood of the moment, seemed much more urgent and practical: that is to say, the possibility of playing some part or other in the social revolution which I was convinced was about to take place.
C. stables in London. But they seemed so much a different race of animals that I was not greatly disgusted. Moreover, because of its complete inappropriateness, there was something obscurely comic about the lowbrow lingo which could not even ask for a slice of bread or access to the butter without describing these objects as engaged in the reproductive act. But to find such habits of speech among persons of my own class, to be unable to escape the almost one hundred per cent conversational preoccupation with the coarser aspects of sex, to hear, night after night in the dormitory, the detailed accounts of degraded amours and copulations or to listen to the vomiting of the alcoholics returning from the night's soak - this came to me, sea-green innocent, as a quite shattering revelation which had the effect, not mainly of inducing nausea but rather of building up an inner hostility to, and contempt for, the types involved.
Autobiography of an Economist by Lord Robbins