I feel I had been reborn-not in a religious sense. It all started when first I set my foot on the threshold of the New Statesman offices. It was at that time in Great Turnstile, and my life was transformed! I had sent in a letter saying I would like to do a book review page for them, and at first they pooh-poohed. But then I said my name was G.de Vavaseur. I was at the time winning all the competitions under that pseudonym, which are taken from a woman we called “Goody” as children. They all came out to have a look at me and said, “We thought he was a man!”
Anyway they gave me double page spread in the centre of every issue. I became something, although I know not what that something was. I do remember being invited to a party were all the poets were there with their spouses. Robert Conquest and suchlike standing around in a group, all men, talking together, something to do with a book called, “The Method” (actually, The Movement). I overheard one of them saying, “The trouble with Naomi she doesn't know how good she is.” When they saw me coming they all looked at me in awe. Robert Conquest said to me, “Are you some kind of saint or something? I have been told them not to meddle with you.” It didn't stop him, however.
