Tuning in…
Tuning in…
Desert Island Discs
Presented by Sue Lawley
A writer who helped pioneer birth control, owned a deep sea fishing trawler, and became adviser to an African tribal chief, with over ninety books to her name.
Eight records
I'd love to hear a piece from Sibelius, because it it takes one straight out into another world. A dark, cold, beautiful world. And it's so exciting to get into another world and then perhaps write about it.
You Canna Shove Your Granny Off a BusFavourite
Robin Hall and Jimmy MacGregor
Just believe it. That's pure Glasgow… Just tears you up, as you say.
Dragon School Song
So you'd like the Dragon School song to remind you of those happy times? [Not explicitly stated further by guest, but implied affirmation.]
W. H. Auden (poem), read by Patrick Wymark
This is the nightmail crossing the border…
I do like this heavily romantic stuff, and you can just bathe in it.
The Rite of Spring: Part 1 – The Adoration of the Earth
Orchestre Symphonique de Paris
…it was this wonderful dancing that we'd never seen anything like before.
Naomi Mitchison's tribe, the Kgatla
A tribal song from Botswana sung by Naomi Mitchison's tribe, Kgatla.
The keepsakes
The book
a book of mostly modern poetry
not yet published (to be compiled)
I would like a book of mostly modern poetry. It hasn't yet appeared, but it will just have all the modern poetry which I I most like.
The luxury
endless supply of writing material
That would be wonderful. And then anything was over I'd make into nice paper animals.
In conversation
Presenter asks
How have you found time to produce a large family and entertain a social circle while writing so much?
Because I can write anywhere ... and on any bits of paper, with any pencils or pens which are about. I used to find that going round in the circle in the underground was a very good way of not being interrupted.
Presenter asks
Why did you put your recreation in Who's Who as 'a little danger'? What dangers have you courted in your life?
I suppose when I look back at my life, I have been in various near dangers … not necessarily physical ones, but perhaps about the people I was with. And sometimes one finds one's among people who are quite different from oneself and yet one must get inside them and understand them. And one can't usually do that without getting at least a few scratches.
The recording
Timestamps play the recording from that turn
Speaker 4
Hello, I'm Kirsty Young, and this is a podcast from the Desert Island Discs archive. For rights reasons, we've had to shorten the music.
Speaker 4
The programme was originally broadcast in nineteen ninety one.
Speaker 4
And the presenter was Sue Lawley.
Presenter
My Castaway this week is a writer. Radical, energetic, and versatile, she's led a life as rich as the century itself. Brought up in a privileged academic environment before the First World War, she married at eighteen, and from then on devoted her life to new ideas. She helped pioneer birth control, owned a deep sea fishing trawler, and became the adviser to an African tribal chief. But it's through her books, her family, and her friends that she has achieved her reputation. The daughter, sister, and mother of distinguished scientists, she mixed in the thirties with people such as WH Orden, E. M. Forster, Wyndham Lewis, and Aldous Huxley. Today, with more than ninety books to her name, she's changed her recreation in Who's Who from A Little Danger to Keeping Up with the Family a gentle indication that at the age of ninety three the whirlwind pace of her life is beginning to slacken a little. She is Naomi Mitcheson.
Presenter
You've written, Naomi, novels and children's stories and poetry, and as many books, I think, as you are years old. You must have spent your whole life writing. I yes, I think that's just about it.
Presenter
But how have you found time producing a large family and entertaining a social circle at the same time? Because I can write anywhere.
Naomi Mitchison
Well it's hard because
Presenter
and on any bits of paper, with any pencils or pens which are about.
Presenter
I used to find that going round in the the circle in the underground was a very good way of not
Presenter
Being interrupted. What's sitting on the circle line? On the circle. Endlessly going round. But I do write very quickly when I I get going. Um it comes very easily. I mean I think I'd be able to write if I was hanging off a cliff by my feet. So presumably writing for you, unlike for so many writers, is a very happy business. There isn't any pain attached to it.
Presenter
Well, there are always painful bits.
Presenter
And then quite often, of course, one reads what one's been writing and thinks, Oh, my goodness, how awful How could I have written like that?
Presenter
But quite often when I r wrote them again, they are much better and shorter, too. Do I suspect then that there can only be one luxury on your desert island, and that is an endless supply of something to write on? That would be wonderful.
Naomi Mitchison
That
Presenter
And then anything was over I'd make into nice paper animals.
Presenter
What about music now? Wh what would be the first piece of music that you would like to put on your record player there? I'd love to hear a piece from Sebelius, because i it it takes one straight out into another world.
Presenter
A dark, cold, beautiful world.
Presenter
And it's so exciting to get into another world and then perhaps write about it.
Presenter
Part of Sibelius Finlandia with the Berlin Philharmonica conducted by Herbert von Carrian.
Presenter
Why, Naomi Mitcheson, did you put your recreation in Who's Who as a little danger? What dangers have you courted in your life?
Presenter
Will
Presenter
I suppose when I look back at my life, I have been in various near dangers.
Presenter
not necessarily physical ones, but perhaps about the people I was with. And sometimes one finds one's among people who are quite different from oneself and yet
Presenter
One m must get inside them and understand them.
Speaker 3
Uh
Presenter
And one can't usually do that without getting at least a few scratches.
Presenter
You've courted literary danger, though, yourself, haven't you, by um not least writing a a very sexually explicit novel in the mid-thirties, didn't you? Well, yes, and it all seemed to me to be quite uh cleanly and decently done. It was called We Have Been Warned. Oh, yes. What didn't they like, the publishers then? The publishers got frightened. It was a a bit of of straight sex. It was that they they couldn't bear. How straight?
Presenter
Well, yeah, it w it w one bit
Presenter
was um about um the heroine being well, f it ended by her being raped, but uh she'd been sort of drawn into it by trying to be kind to somebody, and I wanted to be m made sure that she wasn't afraid of being made uh pregnant, because I I can't remember now that that he'd b uh put on something.
Presenter
A condom, yes.
Presenter
That was quite avant-garde in the 1930s to the 19th century.
Naomi Mitchison
I write it was.
Presenter
And Victor Golanx, I think, um said when he read the book that it was magnificent but filthy, and he refused to publish it, didn't he? Yes. Were you very cross? Um well, I was w was was cross because uh it was part of a whole book, and I thought that the the book was was good. I wouldn't now put that book as one of my my better books. But, you know, it's a time one thinks that one's one's baby is just w best of all.
Presenter
Shall we have your second record?
Presenter
Well, now I'd like to take to my desert island, a Glasgow street song.
Presenter
Cheer me up.
Speaker 3
Dory me, when I was weeded to peel tatties, knew I'm begging I can jigg and I can kiss the lasses. Once upon a time when the birds chewed lime and the monkeys chewed tobacco, my weed dog put on his boots and paddled through the water. Splish splash here, splish splash, tail, his boots went splatter, splatter. He put his foot on the weed black fish and made a teeth clatter. Dory me when I was weed to feel tatties. No I'm begging I can jigg and I can kiss the lasses.
Presenter
They are good songs.
Presenter
Very good.
Presenter
That was Robin Hall and Jimmy MacGregor with a Glasgow street song called You Canna Shove Your Granny Off a Bus. Why did you want that one, Naily?
Presenter
Just believe it.
Presenter
In such pure Glasgow Just tears you up, as you say.
Presenter
Well now, tell me about your early life as a child before the First World War. Now, home was Oxford, wasn't it, where your father was a professor. That's it that's it.
Presenter
Though of course we went to Scotland a good deal, and I stayed with my grandmother.
Presenter
When I was quite a small child it was Edinburgh where my mother's people came from. But then later on it was in Perthshire clone.
Presenter
where my father's people were.
Presenter
and a lot of cousins and uh
Presenter
There's a burn down there where I just used to go down by myself in g b to make
Presenter
Consoles and
Presenter
Gardens of fairies and
Presenter
Then of course one would go and be be grown up and w w w we'd we'd go and swim in the in in a pond. Any meadow in those days would have oh twenty or thirty kinds of flowers and at least oh e perhaps even more kinds of grasses.
Presenter
Well, it's now they're very dull, because uh all the weeds have been been taken out.
Presenter
But in those days meadows and hedges were just full of delights. So these were huge, happy family holidays with the grandparents. Did you have a huge number of servants, servants to do everything for you? Yes, indeed we did, and of course I had a nurse and so on.
Presenter
In the kitchen we just couldn't get in unless we were behaved very well, and if we behaved sufficiently well, we'd get some delicious thing to eat. And equally the butler would be doing the silver. And if one came in and helped him, he would tell one all sorts of exciting stories. But, oh dear, it was so exciting for me to go b around in a rail car and sitting next to driver.
Presenter
And that was very exciting. Shall we pause there for your next record?
Presenter
Well, you see, I I went to th this very good boys' school, and most of the time I was the only girl. But I must say I didn't think of myself as a girl, I thought of myself as a dragon, and uh, like the rest of us, I was an extremely good headmaster.
Presenter
of Lynham.
Presenter
And uh we would go into his special study and there would be a lovely fire and uh he would say, Now, do you think you'd like to make some some toffee? And uh we had a lovely time making toffee while he sort of up asked us questions and talked about things. I expect he asked us how what we do on a desert island. He was always doing this kind of thing.
Presenter
So you'd like the Dragon School song to remind you of those happy times?
Speaker 3
A farm and a boy, the ragged seat round the woods on that skin behind
Speaker 3
My goodness, ready to be
Speaker 3
Talk with rain.
Speaker 3
And two and a swing!
Speaker 3
The dragon of love is the dragon we love.
Speaker 3
So to the dragon we sing!
Presenter
The Dragon School Song
Presenter
Well, now you met your husband to be Dick Mitcheson when you were sixteen years old, Naomi, and you you married him when you were eighteen. Um that was awfully early. Oh, of course. But uh this was just because of the war. And already right from from the autumn of nineteen fourteen, all our friends were were getting killed.
Presenter
You've no idea what the first war was like and people rushed into it and uh they felt it was uh it was uh all going to be over in a few months and they didn't realize at all what it was going to be like and uh how horrible it was going to be.
Presenter
And what a what a trench would be like after people had been in it for a few weeks.
Presenter
And
Presenter
But wh when people began to see, well, the only thing to do was to get married and hope for the best. And did you take to marriage easily? Was it a happy business?
Presenter
Aye.
Presenter
I mean I
Presenter
romantic in a c kind of way that I I I thought. And I was so alarmed wh when I realized what it was, but
Presenter
What do you mean you were alarmed when you realized what it was?
Presenter
Well, I'd never been kissed like that before. I remember my first sort of proper kiss, and I was sort of staggering at the end and saying, Oh, do let me go, I can't bear this and I thought it was rather frightening.
Presenter
Neither my husband nor I.
Presenter
had anything to go by. Nowadays it would have been quite funny that they knew so little. But we did know very little. But patently you came round to it in the end. Well, of course one came round, but
Presenter
It was all mixed in my mind with
Presenter
The war
Presenter
and feeling one must do something.
Presenter
To help with the war and being rather miserable about the sex.
Presenter
Who's part of it?
Presenter
Part of the price you had to pay. Exactly.
Presenter
So you you set up house I mean your your husband obviously survived the war and you set up house first in Chaney Walk, I think, on the Thames embankment and and then afterwards overlooking the river at Hammersmith. And by your early twenties you were producing babies really quite frequently, weren't you? Well, yes. But the thing is, in those days one had a a nurse.
Presenter
And though I breastfed all my children,
Presenter
They went as
Presenter
As cosy and near to oneself as a modern baby is as my great grandchildren are to their fathers and mothers.
Presenter
And uh
Presenter
Dick really didn't see much of them till they were
Presenter
at least sort of running around and talking and so on.
Presenter
How did you manage, being, as you say, the the wife and the mother and the writer, and also running a very complex household, again full of servants? You had no experience of that at all, did you, Trayton? I couldn't cook myself.
Naomi Mitchison
Yeah.
Presenter
Very little other things. And of course it was much more complicated in a way then. For I mean, for instance, all baby clothes had r blue ribbons sort of running through them that had to be taken off w when they were washed and then put back again. Awful lot of washing and ironing and yes, yes. So it must have been fairly chaotic with you in charge? I think it probably was.
Presenter
Let's have your next record.
Presenter
Uh later on
Presenter
I got much more into the writing.
Presenter
And there was um a magazine and they asked me to f find some m really modern poets. And so I said yes, yes and um I pro provided Alden.
Presenter
And I just got some of his early verses when the the magazine collapsed. So they never got published by that. But it got me in touch with this lanky young man.
Presenter
who w who come to London and and hadn't got a job. So I got him to come in and teach my second son Latin. So he came f for three afternoons a week or something like that. And I did see that he got plenty to eat and he loved cakes. So that I would always see that I was a cake with a lot of sugar on the top. And he was very nice and he helped me to decorate for the Christmas tree and so on.
Naomi Mitchison
This is the nightmail crossing the border, Bringing the check and the postal order Letters for the rich, letters for the poor The shop at the corner and the girl next door Pulling up beatock a steady climb The gradients against of a cheese on time
Naomi Mitchison
Past cotton grass and moorland boulder, Shovelling white steam over her shoulder, Snorting noisily as she passes, Silent miles of windbent grasses Birds turn their heads as she approaches, Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches, Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course, They slumber on with paws across
Presenter
NIGHT MAILE BY WHARDEN, read by Patrick Wymark. So you were really the first person to give Auden a professional helping hand, weren't you, Nahi? Yes, I think so. You you reviewed him before anybody else? Yes, and he was such a nice boy. What did you think of your poetry?
Presenter
He didn't really think that women should write verse.
Presenter
He thought women were there to give him food.
Presenter
They were a an inferior class. He was always terribly nice to me, but he had some pretty awful friends that he used to bring, many of whom thought they were splendid brighters and so on, and they weren't, and occasionally I would say so.
Presenter
And, um, well, we jumped on run and out on it.
Presenter
Another splendid writer who was a friend of yours, I think, was EM Forster, wasn't he? Oh, yes.
Presenter
Dear Foster, I so well remember the first time he came, he came to tea, and I was so thrilled that have somebody like him should visit me, and apparently had read my book with care. I just felt it it was like for a Christmas coming in.
Presenter
Now, when you weren't entertaining these literary luminaries, you you might have been, I think, down the road helping run a birth control clinic with Marie Stopes, is that right? Well, yes, but not with Marie Stopes, because she didn't like anyone to run anything of hers except herself.
Naomi Mitchison
When
Presenter
But we have started another one, and it went on very well for a long time. We started with um a committee of local people who would stand up to a certain amount of horror by the most respectable. They felt that we were spending money on and helping the ragtag in of London.
Presenter
And we felt that these were the people who wanted most help.
Presenter
Let's have some more music. One of the other things was, of course, in London that one had all the theatres and opera if if we wanted it. And though I didn't really start liking opera,
Presenter
until I saw it much later on on telly.
Presenter
But uh I do like this heavily romantic stuff, and you can just bathe in it.
Speaker 3
His walk is made.
Speaker 3
Uh
Presenter
Part of Wagner's Goethe Demerung, performed by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir George Schulte.
Presenter
Naomi Mitchison, you've always described your marriage as an open marriage, and that meant, didn't it, that you and your husband allowed each other to have affairs? though not of course at first.
Presenter
But uh gradually it was what became very much that. Why did you feel you wanted to do that?
Presenter
Well, you know
Presenter
We were very fond of one another, and we trusted one another deeply.
Presenter
And each of us wanted the other one to be happy. So, how did it work? Did you tell each other about your lovers? We we yes.
Presenter
And uh you see, fortunately it coincided. You mean you each had a a lover at the same time. But wasn't it very painful to hear about what your husband had?
Naomi Mitchison
Yeah.
Naomi Mitchison
No.
Presenter
I rarely felt but I was so glad that that he was happy. But would you therefore have been seen as a very avant garde couple, really rather fashionable?
Presenter
Very modern.
Presenter
With for a few people, no doubt. Your husband, of course, became an MP, didn't he? The Labour MP for for Kettering and Corbyn in nineteen forty five. And oh dear, that was very exciting. Did you make a good MP's wife, do you think? Yes, I was a very good MP's wife.
Naomi Mitchison
Yeah.
Naomi Mitchison
And oh
Presenter
He had to be at the constituency every weekend.
Presenter
But it was quite interesting and every now and then I would whisper to him, I think I'm could help this person if I could just take her away and have a little talk.
Presenter
And could you help them in any practical way? Oh, yes, constantly. What did you do for them? Well, uh one thing I did quite often was to explain to people about easy birth control.
Presenter
And how they could go on
Presenter
loving their husbands.
Presenter
without being terrified of uh yet another baby.
Presenter
And for a lot of people, it was news then that you could do this.
Presenter
Record number six.
Presenter
Oh, yes. W in our especially in our first sort of ten, fifteen years in London, we went a great deal to all sorts of things, but especially w when the Russian dancers came. This was
Presenter
between walls and it was this wonderful dancing that we'd never seen anything like before.
Presenter
And I remember we went to a writer's spring
Presenter
Part of the Adoration of the Earth from Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring, and that was recorded in nineteen twenty nine in Paris by the Orchestre Saint Phonique, conducted by Igor Stravinsky.
Presenter
Well, politics have played a very large part in your life, Naomi Mitcheson, not just because your husband was an MP, but but you and your husband were really in that that vanguard of upper class socialism, weren't you, in the nineteen thirties? What were its attractions for you?
Presenter
Well, I think we all felt a bit guilty.
Presenter
First of all, we'd survived the war.
Presenter
And then we were having such a much more comfortable life.
Presenter
And I used to go down to the constituency.
Presenter
And tried to to feel what it was like.
Presenter
and to stay with people and talk to people.
Presenter
And
Presenter
You know, one felt that
Presenter
it was possible to to to
Presenter
to make things a lot better.
Presenter
But it it could only ever be for you, couldn't it, a an intellectual commitment? A uh you went on after all enjoying all the privileges. Yes. Was it something that you you sat with your friends and talked about over? Oh, enormously.
Naomi Mitchison
Uh
Naomi Mitchison
Don't
Presenter
And we went to Russia and so on.
Presenter
Shall we pause there for your next record? Because that that's a story in itself, isn't it?
Presenter
Yes.
Presenter
Every year people in in Argyle used to give uh parties to groups that were brought over from people from other countries, and we gave them a sort of picnic tea and so on. And usually there were groups of people, so many Japanese, so many Spaniards, so many so on. And one of these there was one lad who obviously hadn't um got any particular friends.
Presenter
and looked rather lonely, so I said to him, Come and look at the sea. Have you ever seen the sea? No, he hadn't. So went out to sea. And can he touch the water? Yes, yes.
Presenter
And he stayed, and that was the beginning of it. And then we gradually found out who he was. He was the young chief of a tribe in Botswana, the the Makatla.
Presenter
and he was sent by the elders of that tribe, paying for it themselves.
Presenter
Because they wanted to have an educated chief.
Presenter
Having had a few rather uneducated and difficult ones. So you're now an honorary member of that. Well, yes, I just became so.
Naomi Mitchison
Yeah.
Presenter
I helped him through his time in England and suggested that he read quite a number of things. And I put him up into a room at the top of the house and said, Now you can come down when you've read three chapters. But you've been out to Botswana, too. And then I started going to Botswana.
Presenter
And uh from the sixties I think this was about sixty-three from then on I've been there every year.
Naomi Mitchison
Yeah.
Naomi Mitchison
Whatever I'm
Naomi Mitchison
Hane, Hane, Hane, Kolme.
Naomi Mitchison
Uh
Naomi Mitchison
I'm in.
Naomi Mitchison
Hanji Hanya Han
Naomi Mitchison
Hiya, you're a good idea.
Naomi Mitchison
I
Presenter
A tribal song from Botswana sung by Naomi Michesen's tribe, Kgatla.
Presenter
We seem in our conversation, Naomi, to have missed out vast chunks of your life owning a trawler and farming in Scotland, and you were driving a tractor until a few years ago, I think. Oh, yes. I mean, I've I've did pretty well everything.
Naomi Mitchison
Coding a
Naomi Mitchison
Oh yes.
Presenter
And I mean, I I started with horses and I remember getting the first second hand tractor and how exciting it was. It's the only engine I've ever really got on with. This is all near your your large house on on the mull of Kintyre, where you really spent the second half of your life. Is is Scotland really your life spring?
Speaker 3
Yeah.
Presenter
Well, I feel
Presenter
much more Scottish than English, though I have a an English accent and so on. Well now, on your ninetieth birthday a few years ago, I gather that you made a speech inviting everyone back to your hundredth birthday. You obviously have no thought at all of being cheated of your century, do you? Yes, I think I'm pretty well on the slope now.
Presenter
I doubt if I'll write anything more.
Presenter
Though I've said that once or twice.
Presenter
And uh
Presenter
I can't do a lot of the things that I used to do.
Presenter
And I don't feel that I could knock somebody out if we had a fight.
Presenter
But is is the end something that you contemplate? Something that
Presenter
Oh, considerably, and and I find it quite interesting, but I don't find any of the ideas about it at all plausible.
Presenter
It's not something that it's e it's easy to to to think about.
Presenter
Because one just doesn't know.
Presenter
But you once wrote that you thought that death might be the most exciting thing that ever happened to you.
Presenter
It might, but I d I think it won't be. I think one will probably just
Presenter
one day not wake up, which isn't very exciting.
Presenter
Well, with five children, nineteen grandchildren, and sixteen great grandchildren at the last count, you'll hardly be forgotten, will you? No and I think they will f remember me.
Presenter
Reasonably kindly.
Presenter
Shall we have your last record?
Presenter
This is Cashmore's Gairle.
Speaker 3
I am a bad day.
Speaker 3
O'Day old days, see what I gave, Watching Teeswolves galley sailing for he oh.
Speaker 3
Oh walk, she bravely battles'Gainst the hurtling waves, All of the yards anchor the cable of Pike O'Hashy, for he o'ho fall.
Presenter
Kishmaul's Galley, sung by Kenneth McKellar. Well now, Naomi, which one of those eight records do you hold most dear?
Presenter
I think I like a small scale because it's it's outgoing.
Presenter
And we know that your luxury is an endless supply of writing material, so you've got that already. A book we need from you. You already have the Bible, and you've got the complete works of Shakspere waiting for you.
Presenter
Well, that takes you a long way.
Presenter
But I would like a book of mostly modern poetry. It hasn't yet appeared, but it will just have all the modern poetry which I I most like. You shall have it. Naema Mitchison, thank you very much indeed for letting us hear your desert island discs.
Speaker 4
You've been listening to a podcast from the Desert Island Discs Archive. For more podcasts, please visit bbc.co.uk slash radio four.
Presenter asks
What didn't the publishers like about your sexually explicit novel 'We Have Been Warned'?
The publishers got frightened. It was a bit of straight sex. It was that they couldn't bear.
Presenter asks
You met your husband Dick when you were sixteen and married at eighteen – that was awfully early. Was it a happy business?
It was romantic in a kind of way that I thought … And I was so alarmed when I realized what [marriage] was … I'd never been kissed like that before. I remember my first sort of proper kiss, and I was sort of staggering at the end and saying, 'Oh, do let me go, I can't bear this' and I thought it was rather frightening.
Presenter asks
Was your open marriage – where you and your husband allowed each other to have affairs – painful to hear about his lovers?
No. … I was so glad that he was happy.
Presenter asks
What were the attractions of upper-class socialism for you in the 1930s?
I think we all felt a bit guilty. First of all, we'd survived the war. And then we were having such a much more comfortable life … and tried to feel what it was like … You know, one felt that it was possible to make things a lot better.
“I think I'd be able to write if I was hanging off a cliff by my feet.”
“It was all mixed in my mind with the war and feeling one must do something. To help with the war and being rather miserable about the sex. Part of the price you had to pay.”
“He thought women were there to give him food. They were an inferior class. He was always terribly nice to me, but he had some pretty awful friends…”
“I helped him through his time in England and suggested that he read quite a number of things. And I put him up into a room at the top of the house and said, 'Now you can come down when you've read three chapters.'”
“I don't feel that I could knock somebody out if we had a fight.”
“But you once wrote that you thought that death might be the most exciting thing that ever happened to you. — It might, but I think it won't be. I think one will probably just one day not wake up, which isn't very exciting.”