One-of-a-Kind English Teacher

One of the people who had an important influence on my writing was a beatnik Englishman who found himself teaching freshman English in Montreal in the early 1960’s. I can still picture him walking toward class in his tweed jacket, baggy pants and sandals, lost in some train of thought known only to him.

He seemed to take a special delight in debunking every rule of language I cited in rebuke of his situational approach to grammar, but by the end of the semester he had won me over. It was OK to break a rule, but I’d better know the rule and why I was breaking it; otherwise it was just bad English. I guess the rest of the faculty didn't agree with his approach, though, because he wasn't there the next year.

One thing does still trouble me about him: his only concession to winter as he moved about campus was to throw a scarf around his neck and wear socks in his sandals.

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