Civilisation [antikvár]

Foreword This book is made up of the scripts of a series of television programmes given in the spring of 1969. Writing for television is fundamentally different from writing a book, not only in style and presentation, but in the whole approach to the subject. People who settle down to an evening's viewing expect to be entertained. If they are bored they switch off. They are entertained as much by what they see as by what they hear. Their attention must be held by a carefully contrived series of images, and often the sequence of images controls the sequence of ideas. The choice of illustration is itself determined by certain material accidents. Somé places are inaccessible, somé buildings defy the camera, somé locations are too noisy for sound recording. Ali these considerations have to be in the writer's mind from the beginning, and modify or direct his line of thought. But more important still, every subject must be simplified if it is to be presented in under an hour. Only a few out-standing buildings or works of art can be used as evidence, only a few great men can be named, and what is said about them must usually be said without qualification. Generalisations are inevitable and, in order not to be boring, must be slightly risky. There is nothing new in this. It is how we talk about things sitting round the room after dinner; and television should retain the character of the spoken word, with the rhythms of ordinary speech, and even somé of the off-hand imprecise language that prevents conversation from becoming pompous. Going through these scripts and comparing them in mind with the actual programmes, I am miserably aware of how much has been lost. In almost every one of them the strongest impact depended on factors that could not be conveyed in words. To take examples from one programme only, 'The Fallacies of Hope': the sound of the Marseillaise and the prisoners' chorus from Fidelio, and the marvellous photography of Rodin's Burghers of Calais: all these said what I wanted to say about the whole subject with a force and vividness which could never have been achieved by the printed page. I cannot distinguish between thought and feeling, and I am convinced that a combination of words and music, colour and movement can extend humán experience in a way that words alone cannot do. For this reason I believe in television as a médium, and was prepared to give up two years writing to see what could be done with it. Thanks to skilful and imaginative directors and an expert camera crew, I believe that certain moments in the film were genuinely moving and enlightening. They are lost in a book.