Cartoons

I love cartoons and have quite a collection of them, which I display together on one wall in my house. They are not pricey collector's items, but are all of personal significance to me, and remind me of different parts of my life.

This one of me was drawn in 1946 when I was only 18, by a commercial artist doing caricatures in the department store which was in Leicester Square in those days - was it Peter Jones? I'm very much afraid the artist saw deep into my developing character: people have often guessed me to be either a nurse or a teacher, neither of which I have in fact been. I put it down to my nose which has an authoritarian cast to it!

When I moved into my first bed-sitter, also in 1946, I set up a visitors' book which I maintained throughout my single life, and relaunched as a joint book after I was married. Entries have got a bit sparse in later years, but the most recent one was in 2004.

This picture was drawn for me by one of the guests at a party my flatmate and I gave when we lived in Geneva in the mid 50s, working for the World Health Organisation. The word 'mome' translates most appropriately in the context of the drawing as 'moll', but I think the inscription reads better as: "To my bit of crumpet Judith - her tough guy 'Pierrot the Nutter'." (I would like to note that he was not in fact 'my guy', but was my guy's mate - and I have a sneaking suspicion that he was indeed a 'tough guy'!)







My third son is no mean cartoonist himself, when he is in the mood, and I wish he would draw more often. This is his take on his own life at the time, when after graduating from university in zoology he took a job working in the prawn farms of the Far East. He obviously saw himself as an unwelcome arrival in the eyes of the prawns!

[More cartoons next time.]