I was a contributor to Metro from early on. Memory has it that I had a freelance piece in issue #3 in 1981 but that can’t be right (I have never kept clippings) as I was at the Listener then. At least, I think I was. I do have a clear memory of visiting Warwick in the magazine’s early days in his tiny office perched perilously above Grafton Road: his knees were almost up against his chin while I sat in a canvas chair opposite his desk. Later we would sometimes meet by chance in Airedale Street near the Metro office and gossip, as journalists do. Almost as much as lawyers. Eventually I received this letter:
11 November 1985
Dear Stephen
Sorry it has taken so long to come back to you –
busy time of the year and all that. Sorry too that I have no need for brief
book reviews. Kingi [Michael King, then the main book reviewer] seems to be in good
heart and you well know that Metro never does anything briefly.
Yes, you were right about Laurel & Hardy
(Mannion and Adams). What happened? [This is about the magazine New Outlook I
edited when it was left-wing but had since become a cheerleader for Michael Fay.]
Please tell. The Ferret (to say nothing of our lawyers) needs to know. I’ll
call you in a day or so.
Regards
Warwick Roger
4 April 1986
Dear Stephen
How nice of you to offer me the chance of gracing
my organ with the Vincent O’Sullivan short story. I would be happy to do so
provided that Mr O’Sullivan doesn’t have a contract of any kind with the
litigious Mr Mannion. Could you please confirm that in your capacity as
literary agent to the stars?
Incidentally, do you have any information for The
Ferret about what happened in the bitter internecine struggle between Mannion
and Adams? Answers on a postcard to : The Editor, Metro, P.O. Box 6842,
Wellesley Street or in a secret phone call. You will be rewarded in another
life.
Thank you for your kind words about North and
South.
When you’ve convinced me that there is no legal
impediment to publishing your client’s story and when you furnish me with his
personal address, I will write and formally accept the story and send him a tax
form.
Regards,
Warwick Roger
12 May 1986
Dear Stephen
Do you want a job?
Regards,
Warwick Roger
22 May 1986
Dear Stephen
Thank you for your distracted letter of May 17.
I am pleased to learn of your desire to become
involved with my organ and although your demands, especially for money, are
absolutely outrageous, Mr Palmer and I have reluctantly decided to accede to
them except in the matter of the BMW.
As Mr Palmer is unable to write coherently at
present you will, I am afraid, have to do with a letter of appointment from me.
Yes, we’ll pay the amount you suggest. Four
weeks’ holiday a year to be taken at times that are mutually convenient. I
intend to take a week off in August and three weeks in January during which
times you are welcome to be me, so it wouldn’t be convenient for you to take
your holidays then. By the time you get this letter you may have learned of
certain developments in the ownership of Metro department. These developments
will ensure the continuation of your fortnightly paycheck.
If it’s convenient for you, why don’t you start
on Monday 21 July?
I look forward to getting a call from you
confirming the start date.
I think you’ll enjoy being associated with this
organ.
Yours faithfully,
Warwick Roger
P.S. I don’t mind you doing the occasional
Listener book review.
I stayed at Metro as deputy editor until early
1993 when I left to start the books/arts monthly magazine Quote Unquote and lose
all my money. The Metro days were good times, mostly. Every morning I looked
forward to going to work, and that was because of Warwick, mostly. He could be
a total prick at times, but he was brilliant. I’ll take a brilliant prick
over a competent dullard any day.
And here is one of the photos of that Murray
Grimsdale exhibition:
Sadly it is in black and white so you miss the lovely delicate colours, but you do get to see a rear view of Peter Wells descending the stairs. Peter worked at the gallery then; neither of us can recall who the photographer was. Possibly Sally Tagg: the photo is identified only as “05997/34a”.
Sadly it is in black and white so you miss the lovely delicate colours, but you do get to see a rear view of Peter Wells descending the stairs. Peter worked at the gallery then; neither of us can recall who the photographer was. Possibly Sally Tagg: the photo is identified only as “05997/34a”.
8 comments:
Do you have a copy of your distracted letter of May 17?
Were his letters of May 12 and May 22 what we might call today employment contracts? Did Metro have a health and safety policy? And were you offered union coverage? What about an annual performance review?
Life was delightfully simple then.
A mate/acquaintance/company offers you a job, there's a verbal arrangement about pay and what work you have to do, then you show up on Monday.
It's a pity about the BMW. Surely you could have done a contra.
To take your questions in order:
No. I wonder what it said. Warwick and I wrote to amuse each other.
Not sure - probably.
No. These things had not been invented. Happy days.
We were all members of the union but most of us quit some time later when it tried to get the UK union to blacklist NZ journalists our union did not approve of. I wish I could remember the details.
Performance reviews - no. If you weren't shouted at much you were doing okay. Even more so at North & South.
Re the BMW: I did not have a driver's licence. Had to get one to get the job. Asking for a Beemer would have been pushing it a bit.
Stephen.....it's Nick,his son.This is brilliant.
North and South even more!!! Ha ha.Nice.
Hi Nick. Great to hear from you. A main reason I was sorry to miss the funeral was that I wouldn't have the chance to see you. I don't have anyone I can ask about your well-being but I hope you are well, wherever you are, and not misbehaving too much. Just enough.
nickkrupps33@gmail.com send me your email
Secret code: my first name dot my surname at Xtra. Hasn't changed since email was invented.
NZ has lost a trailblazing giant of journalism with the death of Warwick Roger. His legacy lives on.
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