A is for Anguish, ancient, long-awaited, and yet on arrival always somehow unanticipated. Axiomatic: one cannot defend oneself adequately against anguish. That’s anguish’s thing, how admirably it defends itself, against your defense against it. No matter how much you brace yourself courageously. B is for broke, and beautiful, and breast. Also bosom and boob, but not, oddly, for melon. B is, however, for bounced cheque. Also, barbiturates, which leads us in a smooth creamy cellulite-irrelevant curve through melons to champagne, which makes B also for Marilyn Monroe, which makes B, to b frank, a bit confusing. C is for Childhood, which when you put next to “sweetheart”, churlishly changes its own meaning. C is also for Clit Clip, which you can buy at the D.Vice Shop on the Left Bank. A Left Bank is a very nice thing to have, of course, but still does not make Wellington Paris. E is for Exercise, which if you are prudent, you will practise with restraint. F is for Friend, and Flatmate, and Funny, and Frantic and Furious and Foppish, and for Feeling Foolish the Following Day. F is for John F. Kennedy, Fellatio, and Frot, but not, as you might Reasonably Expect, for the F-word. G is for God. Also for Ava Gardner. God is said to be, like Ava Gardner, a Capricorn. (Lucifer was a Gemini.) H is for handsome, and hiccups, and hives, and for how much Heaven can wait. Also, for hops: long or short. I is for indiscretion, and indolence, and infidelity, and igloo. Igloo is where infidelity should get you, assuming there is not an indifferent God: but often doesn’t. It is - infrequently - rumoured that God is into irresponsibility. I is also the only letter which is for I. This solipsism is fortunate - and also ironic, which is an important thing to be, for being Ironic means you are intelligent, and also that you are retaining the iconic ivory tower distance - as it allows academics called idiosyncratic things like Iago and Igor to make many clever remarks regarding the “eye” in “I”, and so on. This is known as Jolly Klever Literary Criticism. M we’ve already covered. It’s another Gemini, and when in caps, always comes in twins. N is the sound you make when you’re eight and your mother is digging a splinter out of the ball of your foot and you are trying not to cry out: Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn O is for Obese, which is a yummy word, and also for Olaf, which is not. O is for Oblomov, which if you are very very amusing you can turn into Slobolomov, and call your friends. P is for Plagiarism, which we do not approve of, unless it is called post-modernism .Q is for Queue, which is curiously boring. Also for Quixotic, which is not. R is for royal and race and rumpus and rip and rue and reluctant and real and robe and regulate and reach and rob and rot and the sound you make when you are trying to impress four-year-olds with the depth & range of your rage. R is the sound my almost-nephew, my practically-godson Solly makes when you say: Solly what does the lion say What does the tiger say, Solly Hey Solly what does the dinosaur say Hey Solly hey Solly hey Solly (what does the) S is for Secrecy, and Secrets. Secret comes in a variety of sexy summer & spring flavours: perversion longing agent pain Also: squirrel. T is for my brother, who is terrifically cool and post-modern and ironic, except for when he forgets and is loving, instead. T is for Timoci, which is what the Fijians call my brother the Post-Modern Terror. T is for third, which would be me, except for by inclination. T is for Teachers, which is something you drink, and not to be confused with apples. Or with Sylvia Ashton-Warner, who was a temptress, a trickster, and a terrible trial. T-hee is a stupid sound, but useful. T is what you call “Oedipus Rex” if you are seriously well-educated: a) because T. Rex, and b) because what you really mean is “Oedipus Tyrannus”, which when you think about it is not the same at all. U is usually under-utilised, if u ask us. V is just plain rude (but has Kim Hill and Kate Harcourt in it). W is for Wellington, where we work; which can be windy, dark and cold; where we wish we were not. X is for xtra fun, and for Madonna Louise Patricia Ciccone, who is xtremely sexy or xtremely not, depending on what you xpect from your xcstasy. Also: for Xtra Large (see above). Y is for “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” and also for “You really think you have the write to right all this?” Y is for existential angst. And, Y me: which is the same thing, unless you’re Jean Paul Sartre, in which case it’s wittier. NB: Mr. Emerson told Miss Honeychurch that by the side of the everlasting Y there is a Yes. Mr. Emerson was a Y person, and he very much hoped that Lucy and George would grow up to be Y people too. I am a Y person. I like Getting To Yes. I am not a Yes woman: Y, R U? (4 Y is always 4 U.) Z is for ang (lee) Z eye itty & Cars & endings (“Zed’s dead, baby. Zed’s dead”). Endings are the things you have before you get to beginnings. They may or may not contain anguish.