Further to my early music story, there’s a major sub-genre of “Guess ’oo I ’ad in my cab the other day”, including this:
Know ’oo I ’ad in the back of my cab the other day? That Bertrand Russell geezer! So I asks him, “So what’s it all about then, Bertie?” And do you know, he couldn’t tell me!
In 1948 the great man survived a plane crash into the sea off the Norwegian coast. A journalist phoned him and asked,
“When you were in the water, did you not think of mysticism and logic?”
“No” I said.
“What did you think of?” the voice persisted.
“I thought the water was cold”, I said, and put down the receiver.
5 thoughts on “Two Bertrand Russell stories”
I have actually seen a phorocopy of a letter from Valerie Eliot in which she recounts the tale of Bertie and the cabman.
Good to learn the source. My online search didn’t turn it up, so I was recalling the version I heard on the grapevine—not too remote from the, um, urtext.
How about some Waugh anecdotes?
When Winston Churchill’s son underwent surgery, Waugh noted in his diary: “Randolph’s tumour proved to be benign but it was removed anyway. How typical of the medical profession, to find the only part of Randolph that was not malignant but to remove it anyway.”
Pingback: Cocomania | Stephen Jones: a blog