Competition No 3722

Set by George Cowley on 11 March

We asked for an interview between a psychoanalyst and a prominent person in the middle of an identity crisis.

Report by Ms de Meaner

What fun you had. Hon menshes to Barbara Daniels (the Duke of Edinburgh) and Michael Cregan (David Frost interviews David Frost). The winners get £20. The overall winner is Peter Norman, who also gets the vouchers.

Then He left the vicinity of Highgate and went unto the village of Hampstead, where he met a certain psychoanalyst, a Kleinian from the Mount of Muswell. "Some say I am John the Baptist," He began, "others Elijah, or one of the prophets, but who do you say I am?"

"Hmmm," replied the psychoanalyst, "you seem to be much in need of external affirmation. Tell me about your parents."

But He replied: "I and my Father are one."

"Quite close, then?" observed the analyst. "What is your earliest memory?"

"The separation of day from night, light from darkness, the waters above the earth from the waters below . . . "

The Kleinian nodded. "Most interesting, let us try some free association. Sheep."

"Goats," came the reply.

"Wheat." "Chaff."

"Hmmm, just as I thought. Tell me about your mother . . . "

But He made no answer. The silence continued for 50 minutes. "Thank you," said the analyst. "That will be £50 and I will see you again on Wednesday. We are making progress." But He answered not a word. He walked out and went up directly towards the Pond of Hampstead. The analyst shook his head wryly, as behind him the ornamental fig tree slowly withered.

David Silverman

"Your name?"

"Armani."

"I think you'll find that's the name of your suit."

"You draw a distinction?"

"OK, let's pretend your phone's ringing. Brrr-brrr. Come on, answer it. Brrr-brrr."

"Someone always answers for me."

"Well, let's look at who you are, defined by the positions you've held."

"I run large organisations: the BBC, the ROH, the NHS, the RSC, you name it. Or rather don't."

"Why not?"

"Interferes with the pure cold science of administration. I invariably forget which organisation I'm running. I pride myself on the fact that you could sit in on any of our meetings, listen to all our talk of targets and focus groups, of structures both infra- and super-, of downsizing and streamlining, and at the end of the day you wouldn't have picked up one single clue as to the product we're dealing in."

"That might explain your identity crisis."

"Identity is on a need-to-know basis. Incidentally, doctor, I can't believe this one-to-one method is cost-effective."

Keith Norman

"Let's get back to this name thing. You were originally Anthony Wedgwood Blair?"

"Yes. I had to renounce my heritage to run for new Labour. The Wedgwood had to go."

"And you became plain Tony?"

"Yes."

"Any particular connotations? Try to free-associate."

"Er . . . Tony Awards. Prizes. Head boy. A credit to the school."

"Good . . . go on. Anything else?"

"Er . . . Lord Tonypandy. Andy Pandy. Muffin the Mule. Bill & Ben, flowerpot men. Let's go [sings] to San Francisco . . . "

"Excellent. And your surname - happy with it?"

"Yes, sure."

[Leans forward purposefully] "You've seen the jokes? Tony Blur. Tony Blah Blah Blah. Tony Bleugh. They don't sometimes get to you?"

"Not at all. It's the rough and tumble of politics. I'm proud of who I am."

"You don't sometimes think you'd be better off with a simple, strong name? A name that says 'I'm a man of the people'? Something like, oh I don't know . . . Brown?"

[Emits a low groan] "Oh God, you're right. Doctor, I need rebranding."

Peter Norman

"So, professor, what seems to be the trouble?"

"Ontological insecurity. Oh, I realise we don't use those Langian terms any more, but the past keeps coming back to haunt me. First, I was Terence, northern, working-class hero, studying the Brontes. Then I was Terry, the poster-boy for Theory in a Dylan cap and Marxist scourge of the establishment. For a while, I churned out popular cribs for undergraduates, always defying the academic hierarchy, and they gave me an Oxford professorship. It still didn't feel like me. I tried being a playwright, but people kept laughing at me . . . whoever I was. The higher I rose, the more versatile my achievements, the less I felt like - dare I say it? - a unitary subject."

"And who do you feel you are today?"

"Since it's yourself that's asking, I'll give you a hint or two. If I weren't here having me head shrunk, it's like as not I'd be sharing the crack with the boyos in Temple Bar, over a touch of the hard stuff, y'understand. Ah, bejasus, there's a glory in their hearts that would warm the world. Mind you, I've said nothing."

G M Davis

No 3725 Set by Bruce Alter

I am now setting the comp suggested inadvertently a few weeks ago by Mr Alter's highly amusing tale of the chance discovery of monosodium glutamate. You can pick your own discovery.

Max 200 words to be in by 12 April (to appear in our issue dated 22 April E-mail: comp@newstatesman.co.uk

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