The day before yesterday I was walking around the Samuel Johnson birthplace museum with my brother and walking friends (their first time, and they were impressed). One of the interactive attractions caught my eye – 'Your Letters to Samuel Johnson'. Visitors were invited to take a sheet of paper headed 'Dear S.J.', write the great man a letter, and pin it on a dedicated board. Of those that were legible or made sense, most were not very interesting – but one stood out: this one...
'Dear S.J.
You seem like a right decent geezer.
Sincerely,
Ted Reynolds'
One might balk at the noun – and Johnson would not have known it – but this seems to me a pretty sound assessment of Johnson's character. I wasn't tempted to write a letter myself.
Yesterday we were in Tamworth, where, standing by the obelisk erected in memory of 'The Author of "Little Jim"', I treated my friends to a reading of that classic of Victorian sentimental verse. Their eyes remained resolutely dry.
And here is a literary souvenir of another walk, a couple of years back – my somewhat unnerving encounter with John Keats on a street bench in Chichester. The bench commemorates Keats's stay in that fair city in 1819, in the course of which he began work on The Eve of St Agnes.
Friday, 11 September 2026
'A Right Decent Geezer'
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