{"nodes":[{"node":{"title":"Parker001","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker001","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Hopdance","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker001","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker001_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeffHOPDANCE\n\nby Stewart Parker\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1292"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker002","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker002","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Hopdance, Angel","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker002","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker002_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeffThe foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a\nnightingale, Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two\nwhite herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no\nfood for thee.\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1293"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker003","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker003","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Stranger, Mirror","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker003","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker003_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 1 -\nI. One day they said, It's time you went to the gymnasium, Mr. Tosh\nsaid so you go there,And whistling even, a shanty of sorts. Trying to fancy yourself aboard\nship along these long corridors with the curvy low ceilings, a male nurse\nin his white smock smiling past like a cabin steward. Polished floor, the\nright crutch sliding a little. Easy, On a real ship, on these things, with\none bound you\u2019d be on your arse. All at sea. There now, wordplay even. Of a\nsort, The boy is back in his mind again.\n\n Tunnelling left, that must be the place, swing doors with portholes.\nEases his right shoulder between the doors, bundling through in an awkward\nscuffle, the hospital gymnasium. Bars, ropes, curious engines. Nobody here\nyet. Heeling round to starboard...\n\n a spectral stranger in the corner lurking there eyeing you out of a\nragged thicket of dirty fair hair, lank blue jumper hanging limp on the bony\nshoulders, metal crutches clamping the forearms, fixing you with that\nglittering eye, transfixed, don\u2019t look down... gross blue knot dangling in the\nvacant space where the left leg should be, pyjama knot, dangling from the\nblunt stump fat with its bandages, the one fat thing, gorged full on its\nown blood. First sight of it. First mirror.\n\n Easy. As others see me, Scary ghost, Sad freak. No wonder they tried\nto make you wear their long tartan dressing gown, get a haircut, stay in\nthe ward, spare the feelings of the healthy, no wonder, horrified eyes\nsliding sideways as they pass me in the corridor.\n\n Motionless, holding the stare. For the slightest move, confirmed by the\nmirror, will force him at length to identify with that halt scarecrow which\nnow at last stands there revealed to him after the months of living wholly\ninside that stricken mask. Caught.\n\n Look.\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1294"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker004","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker004","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Literature, Tosh","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker004","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker004_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 2 -\n\nII.  A student of literature at the time, and full of certainties at first. To he\n\nnineteen in a warm room, surrounded by books and friendship - the\ncertainties came easy. Outside the window, beyond the great chestnuts and\nthe cultivated lawns, the province yawned along rank and stultifying. On\nSundays he could hear the hounds of heaven in the park, a tinny evangelical\nbaying and barking and the whine of hymns, drifting across the damp grey\nair into his back yard and through the big window to where he stretched\nacross Prudence's tense body for another bottle of Monk from under the bed.\nThe province was without form and void. Darkness moved upon the face of\nthe waters.\n\n He respected Larmour, his tutor, more than the other lecturers in the\nDepartment, though warily and grudgingly, for they agreed on virtually\nnothing.\n\n -You don't find the study of literature a sufficiently rigorous\ndiscipline in itself, Mr. Tosh, without shouldering an additional\nresponsibility for creating it?\n\n The voice was a kind of genial sneer, Larmour perched well back in his\nswivel chair, knees hugged to chest with glee,  perpetual monkey grin, a\nwhiff of satan in the black goatee and the dark, mocking eyes.\n\n -The title of writer is one which I intend to win. Tosh was curt and\nstolid in these encounters, privately convinced of his due destiny.\n\n -Doubtless so, but might you not usefully begin your quest by\nthoroughly acquainting yourself with the unbroken traditions of nine\ncenturies of major achievement?\n\n -Tradition is meaningless to me.\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1295"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker005","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker005","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Student, Beckett","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker005","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker005_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 3 -\n    -Then you are either a remarkably obtuse young man, since tradition is\nof course synonymous with meaning, or else a deliberate solipsist, which\nappears the more likely case whilst being an equally inappropriate position\nfor an honours student in this Department, Cuddling his knees closer, the\nsneery grin widening to fill the whole room.\n\n There was a paper to be turned in for each of the three terms, Tosh\nhad elected to write his first one on the Scots Border ballad of Thomas\nRhymer, provoking Larmour's gleeful scorn.\n\n -You don\u2019t consider a solitary ballad rather a meagre subject, Mr,\n\nTosh?\n\n -It\u2019s a far from meagre poem.\n\n -It is undoubtedly a fine flower of the oral tradition, but it will\nscarcely sustain the same degree of detailed scrutiny as a conscious\nliterary artefact,\n\n -That\u2019s only one of the things which I admire about it.\n\n -You are not intending to rhapsodise over the beauty of its impersonal\nvoice for the entire three thousand words?\n\n Tosh launching his offensive.\n\n -The ballads are not impersonal, Least of all this one. It\u2019s a pre-\npersonal voice. It pre-dates the psychological need for signature. It has no\nvestige of signature, and yet it has a clear distinctive unmistakable voice,\na tone all its own. A point of view. The view of a whole community\ncrystallised into a single voice, It is pre-personal, by the same token that\nBeckett\u2019s work is post-personal.\n\n -That should certainly get us to the bottom of page one, once you\nhave finished defining your terms. What else?\n\n -Thomas lies on Huntley Bank. He spies a woman riding towards him,\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1296"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker006","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker006","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Eildon Hills, Prudence","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker006","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker006_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 4 -\n\no'er the fernie brae. A daemon lady. They make love. She takes him on her\nhorse into the Eildon Hills and their otherworld. If he speaks, she will be\nsure of his body ever after. My tongue is mine ain, he tells her. She shows\nhim wonders, a river of blood, a forest of bleeding boughs, the roads to\nheaven, hell and elfland, she takes him to her castle there. He returns to\nErcildoune after thirty days, He has the seer's gift of poetry. He has\nrisked the greatest danger to penetrate the world behind appearances. It's a\nfable of the creative mystery. The nature of the poet's gift and peril.\n\n -You see yourself in these terms, I take it?\n\n Tosh affixing his stolid frown on the doodles burgeoning across the\ncover of his Summit Refill Pad Ruled Feint And Margin 80 Leaves Foolscap. A\nJohn Dickinson Product,\n\n Everything that day slick or spongy with the rain, dropping down\nsoftly and inexhaustibly out of the grey air, so that for a while I failed\nto notice the tears on her face as we walked the path away from the Union,\n\n -What's the matter, Prudence?\n\nShaking her head, averting it.\n\n -What are you crying for?\n\nA few sobs bit back, quivering lips contorting her little face in a struggle\nto speak. Tosh felt the familiar prickle of stifled rage, at her\nhelplessness, Chrissake just spit it out, will you, anything,\n\n -It's just... just... it's the rain, she said, almost gagging on the\nwords.\n\n They walked on through to the main quadrangle.\n\n -We'll sit down, said Tosh.\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1297"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker007","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker007","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Leg, Doctor","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker007","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker007_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 5 -\n\n The wooden, seat brimmed with raindrops which glistened into thick wet\nsmears when he brushed at it with his handkerchief, They sat together\nbeneath the black umbrella.\n\n -You don't seem all that keen. Not anymore, she said.\n\n -My leg's sore again today.\n\n -Same place? She gently clasped the front of his knee and rubbed it,\nHer eyes were dry now,\n\n -I was wondering, she said. What you thought. About getting summer\njobs together.\n\n -I feel total lassitude. Soaked right through in it. All the time now.\nMy leg feels kind of hollow inside.\n\n -Is this helping it?\n\n Her hand made an even rustle against the knee of his trousers. The\nrain murmured down, drips falling off the dark red brick in a multitude of\nrhythms.\n\n -You still haven't said. She spoke carefully. Whether we're breaking it\noff. Or what.\n\n -I suppose we are, Prudence.\n\n He held his breath.\n\n -You seem to be losing interest, I know that much.\n\n -Your ears move up and down when you're talking, did you know that?\n\n -You just won't ever be serious about it.\n\n -There's a sort of gentle twitching under your hair, like two field\nmice. Oh, God.\n\n -You ought to see a doctor about that leg.\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1298"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker008","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker008","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Consulate, Socialist","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker008","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker008_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 6 -\n\n The consulate flags hung limp in the rain, as if shamed by the moral\nforce of their frail protest. You were given a placard to carry, reading\nMake Babies Not Freakshows, and you felt foolish. As though you had any\nacquaintance with babies, as though a sodden handful of students outside\nthe U.S. consulate-general, in a dwarfish and absurd province, was likely to\nfend off nuclear armageddon, was not in itself a sad little freakshow,\nFalshaw, student journalist, fat and pustular, confronts you with his round\nred comedian face, on the picket line.\n\n -How\u2019s the daemon lover, then?\n\n -Depends. Is it some daemon who loves me, or me who\u2019s supposed to\n\nlove some daemon?\n\n -Both in your case, I'd say.\n\n -How about the revolution?\n\n -Delayed for the time being, on account of industrial action, listen,\n\nyou haven\u2019t joined the Labour Club yet, people are beginning to talk.\n\n -I prefer writing to joining.\n\n -What you are, Toshy, is what I call a gut socialist. You feel it deep\ndown but you don't think it through, that's okay, we need your type in the\nmovement too.\n\n -I may have a couple of instincts that I'm prepared to credit. I'm not\nprepared to institutionalise them, though, not quite yet.\n\n -Bourgeois individualism very big danger, artistic types much prone to\nit. Beware.\n\n A gnarled and greasy man, his eyes balefully magnified by slablike\nglasses, passed by on a circuit of his own, counterclockwise to theirs, clad\nin a sandwich-board proclaiming Christ Said, Ye Must Be Born Again.\n\n -Christ was the first socialist, you know, Falshaw told the man as he\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1299"}},{"node":{"title":"Parker009","Collections":"Hopdance","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1970","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Tuesday, April 26, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Parker009","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Catholicism, Agnostic","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker009","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker009_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff- 7 -\n\npassed,\n\n -I don't accept that, said Tosh, Socialism wasn't founded by Christ at\nall. It was built on the same rock as Catholicism. Peter the Betrayer. The\nmoment when the cock crew thrice, that was when the party was born.\n\n -Very elegant, said Falshaw. So you imagine you can change the world\nfor the better all on your own? As Jesus S. Tosh?\n\n -If I could even change myself for the better, I'd settle for that.\n\n -So what are you doing marching in my picket?\n\n -If I have to die, I'd sooner die foolish but at least in the right.\nInstead of foolish and also wrong.\n\n -You are wrong, You're a romantic egotist.\n\n -I'm an agnostic, I'm prepared to wait, till the third time comes round\nagain, for the cock to crow. Then let's see who jumps.\n\n -Anybody know'Fair Rosa'?\n\nPerching on the edge of the classroom desk, tuning the guitar.\n\n -Do Elvis, sir! Sudden chattering laughter of raw boys, Yourself eight\nyears ago, a mere eight. Their oversized knees and ears, the blazers either\nbaggy or starveling, the faint sour odour of their imprisoned force.\n\n -I want you to listen to the story of this, now.\n\nE-Major chord. And in.\n\n -Fair Rosa was a lovely child\n    A lovely child a lovely child\n    Fair Rosa was a lovely child\n    A long time ago...\n\nThose who can't, teach. But I suppose it might be forced on me, after\n","Type":"Text","Author":"Stewart Parker","Updated date":"Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20","Nid":"1300"}}]}