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Raw Data (Or: Dinner Table Talk in Montreal*)

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  13 August 2021

Daniel P. Kunene
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Information
African Issues , Volume 10 , Issue 1-2 , Spring/Summer 1980 , pp. 9 - 13
Copyright
Copyright © African Studies Association 1980 

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Footnotes

*

The dinner referred to here took place in a restaurant in Montreal on April 14,1972 during a joint meeting of the A.S.A. Board of Directors and committee chairmen.

The total population of my “Clicking World” was, by sheer coincidence, three, namely myself, R. Gordon Collier and Mrs. Collier. In the middle of our conversation, the hum of other conversations around the table suddenly intruded itself into my consciousness. I then suggested to the Colliers that it would be interesting to go round the table and find out what each “world” was talking about. They took me seriously; I developed cold feet; they insisted. Then I went round the table writing my “findings” on the back of a used envelope.

To my consternation, as I prepared to sit down, R. Gordon Collier hit a spoon against an empty glass, and I had to give my report immediately, almost like President Nixon arriving from Russia.

Anyone tempted to identify personalities referred to in the poem with any living persons (for example the Colliers as mama and papa etc.) does so at his own risk.

References

* The dinner referred to here took place in a restaurant in Montreal on April 14,1972 during a joint meeting of the A.S.A. Board of Directors and committee chairmen.

The total population of my “Clicking World” was, by sheer coincidence, three, namely myself, R. Gordon Collier and Mrs. Collier. In the middle of our conversation, the hum of other conversations around the table suddenly intruded itself into my consciousness. I then suggested to the Colliers that it would be interesting to go round the table and find out what each “world” was talking about. They took me seriously; I developed cold feet; they insisted. Then I went round the table writing my “findings” on the back of a used envelope.

To my consternation, as I prepared to sit down, R. Gordon Collier hit a spoon against an empty glass, and I had to give my report immediately, almost like President Nixon arriving from Russia.

Anyone tempted to identify personalities referred to in the poem with any living persons (for example the Colliers as mama and papa etc.) does so at his own risk.