Dogs and Blowflies live in the moment

I've chosen this seat at the Capitol theatre. It is right up the back under the sound engineer's and lighting tech's window. The light from the booth illuminates my note book and the stage is way, way down there. Now the house lights go down, and I'm about to hear and see one of my personal favourites. I regret that I've chosen this seat. The theatre isn't quite full, but it's too late to swap and get closer. It can't be done without making a racket.

A slight white-haired figure crosses the stage. Robert Dessaix walks lightly and takes a seat. He writes with elegance, and there is the hint of danger the performance might go pear-shaped if he gets cranky. But that, to me, is part of his appeal.

There is no need to worry, Dessaix is on fire. He speaks eloquently and generously. He reads to us from his new memoir What Days Are For, recites Philip Larkin's days,  drawls a couple of Marlene Dietrich songs, peppers the conversation with bits of French and Russian, and reminds us, periodically that he is indeed performing for us. He leans forward and tells us his new book retails for $29.95, 'Buy it,' he says. We laugh. He is utterly engaging.

Dessaix is reflective, that is the nature of his new book, but he is also very funny. He lightens the tone at just the right moments. He seems to want to share genuine insights of himself, allowing us to peek into his head for an hour. If this is performance then Dessaix is very good.

Dessaix talks a lot about infatuation in What Days Are For. He experiences a lot of his moments of infatuation in foyers. Theatre, cinema, or perhaps even writers festivals. Dessaix describes it as a sudden and violent liking which can only be played with if you are anchored in something deeper. As in a committed relationship. All infatuations have a narrative. You make the narrative, and it is always mis-judged. It always ends badly. This, I think, is definitely true. I don't know if not being anchored in a relationship has stopped anybody from developing an infatuation, but I certainly think it's a probably a safer proposition for those in relationships (If it stops in the infatuation stage that is.)

Particularly compelling to me was Dessaix's argument against living in the moment. He tells us, "A well-shaped day has depth. I try to live well-shaped days. Only dogs and blowflies live in the moment."He has tapped into something here so part of the current zeitgeist. We are bombarded with messages telling us to experience the moment, to be mindful, but we only need to be told because we are constantly distracted by our phones. Living in the moment, in the literal sense, does sound like we are Goldfish (or dementia sufferers). I'm all for Dessaix's well-shaped days, where we can think about the past, be in the present and dream about the future instead.

There were many elements Dessaix covered in his talk, as there are in What Days Are For. He manages to tie them all up into a coherent whole. But he doesn't do it too neatly, there are unanswered questions, and with his light touch he provokes you to think. It was an incredibly enriching talk to watch from an audience's perspective.


Dessaix asks us to think about specifically what our days are for. And this I will take home with me.