Stuart Hall was many things: public intellectual, academic leader, writer, editor, teacher, political activist, family man and friend. We write here of the two aspects we knew personally, writer and friend. Like so many of us engaged in the early formation of cultural and media studies, we both read and were seriously influenced by his work. John discussed Stuart Hall’s work extensively in his PhD thesis on Australian literature of the 1890s in international contexts, and Stuart was one of his examiners. Ann read Stuart’s work in the late 1970s, having just arrived to teach in the BA (Communication) degree at what was then the NSW Institute of Technology, ten years later to become University of Technology, Sydney (UTS)

Curthoys, Ann

Docker, John

UTS ePress

Cultural Studies Review volume 22 number 1 March 2016 http://epress.lib.uts.edu.au/journals/index.php/csrj/index pp. 302–6 © Ann Curthoys and John Docker 2016	  ISSN 1837-8692 Cultural Studies Review 2016. © 2016 Ann Curthoys and John Docker. This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 Unported (CC BY 4.0) License (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), allowing third parties to copy and redistribute the material in any medium or format and to remix, transform, and build upon the material for any purpose, even commercially, provided the original work is properly cited and states its license. Citation: Cultural Studies Review (CSR) 2016, 22, 4920, http://dx.doi.org/10.5130/csr.v22i1.4920 Stuart Hall Reflections, Memories, Appreciations ANN CURTHOYS UNIVERSITY OF SYDNEY AND JOHN DOCKER UNIVERSITY OF SYDNEY Stuart	   Hall	   was	   many	   things:	   public	   intellectual,	   academic	   leader,	   writer,	   editor,	  teacher,	  political	  activist,	   family	  man	  and	   friend.	  We	  write	  here	  of	   the	   two	  aspects	  we	   knew	   personally,	   writer	   and	   friend.	   Like	   so	   many	   of	   us	   engaged	   in	   the	   early	  formation	  of	  cultural	  and	  media	  studies,	  we	  both	  read	  and	  were	  seriously	  influenced	  by	   his	   work.	   John	   discussed	   Stuart	   Hall’s	   work	   extensively	   in	   his	   PhD	   thesis	   on	  Australian	  literature	  of	  the	  1890s	  in	  international	  contexts,	  and	  Stuart	  was	  one	  of	  his	  examiners.	  Ann	  read	  Stuart’s	  work	  in	  the	  late	  1970s,	  having	  just	  arrived	  to	  teach	  in	  the	  BA	  (Communication)	  degree	  at	  what	  was	  then	  the	  NSW	  Institute	  of	  Technology,	  ten	  years	  later	  to	  become	  University	  of	  Technology,	  Sydney	  (UTS).	  Later,	   in	   the	   1990s	   and	   2000s,	  we	   came	   to	   know	  him	  personally	   through	   his	  wife,	  Catherine	  Hall,	  whom	  Ann	  met	  through	  their	  common	  interest	  in	  questions	  of	  	  Ann Curthoys and John Docker—Stuart Hall	   303 race,	  empire	  and	  identity.	  Whenever	  we	  visited	  London,	  we	  would	  catch	  the	  Jubilee	  Line	   to	  West	  Hampstead,	   turn	   the	  corner	   into	  Ulysses	  Street,	   and	  be	  welcomed	  by	  Stuart	  and	  Catherine.	  During	  those	  visits,	  we	  became	  friends.	  While	  our	  intellectual	  engagements	   with	   his	   work,	   and	   our	   friendship,	   had	   emerged	   separately,	   on	  reflection	   they	   seem	   to	   have	   been	   closely	   entwined;	   for	   the	   ideas	   of	   both	   were	  influenced	   by	   the	   marriage.	   In	   John	   Akomfrah’s	   documentary,	   The	   Stuart	   Hall	  Project,	  Stuart	  discusses	  the	  early	  years	  of	  his	  marriage	  to	  Catherine.	  It	  was	  during	  this	  period	  in	  his	  life,	  he	  says,	  in	  the	  second	  half	  of	  the	  1960s	  in	  Birmingham,	  that	  he	  most	   experienced	   racism	   on	   a	   personal	   level.	   Being	   in	   a	  mixed	   race	   couple	  made	  both	   of	   them	   the	   object	   of	   racist	   insults	   and	   innuendo,	   and	   both	   were	   to	   write	  extensively	  about	  race	  in	  their	  later	  work.	  	  One	   of	   Stuart’s	   key	   ideas	   is	   that	   questions	   of	   race	   are	   foundational	   to	   and	  embedded	  within	  a	  whole	  range	  of	  other	  questions	  to	  do	  with	  class,	  empire,	  history,	  modernity,	  representation	  and	  popular	  culture.	  Race	  relations	  in	  Britain	  have	  a	  long	  history,	  which	  is	  still	  poorly	  understood.	  One	  of	  Stuart’s	  statements	  most	  quoted	  in	  the	  obituaries	  has	  been	  this:	  ‘The	  very	  notion	  of	  Great	  Britain’s	  “greatness”	  is	  bound	  up	   with	   empire.	   Euro-­‐skepticism	   and	   Little	   Englander	   nationalism	   could	   hardly	  survive	  if	  people	  understood	  whose	  sugar	  flowed	  through	  English	  blood	  and	  rotted	  English	   teeth.’	   Stuart’s	   comments	   here	   point	   to	   an	   issue	   of	   great	   importance:	   that	  despite	  the	  extensive	   legacies	  of	  empire	  there	   is	  a	  pervasive	  British	  amnesia	  about	  both	   its	   existence	   and	   its	   consequences	   for	   the	   present.	   This	   amnesia,	   as	   Stuart	  pointed	   out,	   influenced	   many	   of	   its	   intellectuals,	   including	   the	   more	   radical.	   We	  might	   consider	   here	   the	   case	   of	   E.P.	   Thompson.	   He	   was	   the	   son	   of	   an	   English	  missionary	  who	  served	  in	  India	  and	  who	  on	  his	  return	  to	  England	  wrote	  extensively	  about	   India	  and	   indeed	  even	  wrote	  a	  book	   titled	  The	  Making	  of	   the	   Indian	  Princes.	  Thompson,	   the	   son,	   wrote	   in	   1963	   one	   of	   the	   foundational	   texts	   of	   both	   modern	  historiography	  and	  of	  cultural	  studies,	  The	  Making	  of	  the	  English	  Working	  Class.	  Yet	  even	  Thompson	  did	  not	  understand	  the	  significance	  of	  empire	  for	  his	  exploration	  of	  the	   interplay	   between	   working	   people’s	   experience,	   cultural	   values	   and	   a	  transforming	  politics	  during	  the	  rise	  of	  industrial	  capitalism	  in	  England.	  For	   Stuart	   Hall,	   coming	   to	   England	   from	   Jamaica	   at	   the	   age	   of	   eighteen,	   and	  remaining	  there	  to	  become	  one	  of	  its	  most	  influential	  citizens,	  this	  kind	  of	  amnesia	  about	   empire	   and	   race	  was	   simply	   not	   possible.	   He	   emphasised	   that	   in	   the	   social	  	  	   	  VOLUME22 NUMBER1 MAR2016	  304 crisis	  engulfing	  Britain	  from	  the	  1960s	  to	  the	  1980s,	  race	  did	  not	  generate	  the	  crisis,	  which	  had	  multiple	  causes	  and	  dimensions,	  but	  it	  punctuated	  and	  periodised	  it.	  He	  worried	   that	   those	   studying	   race	   relations	  were	   tending	   to	   abstract	   it	   from	   other	  issues,	  seeing	  it	  as	  something	  separate	  and	  external	  when	  it	  was	  not.	  Race,	  or	  more	  precisely	   the	   idea	   of	   race,	   was	   an	   integral	   part	   of	   Britain’s	   imperial	   past	   and	   its	  rapidly	  changing	  present,	  and	  it	  helped	  shape	  English	  identity.	  In	  an	  essay	  published	  in	  1997,	  he	  writes	  about	  the	  identity	  of	  Englishness.1	  The	  English	  eye,	  he	  says,	  sees	  everything	   else	   but	   is	   not	   good	   at	   recognising	   that	   it	   is	   itself	   actually	   looking	   at	  something.	   It	   becomes	   coterminous	   with	   sight	   itself.	   Like	   other	   identities,	  Englishness	  seeks	  to	  be	  unitary,	  but	  in	  fact	  it	  can	  never	  be	  because	  of	  its	  role	  in	  the	  former	   British	   empire	   and	   because	   of	   the	   multiplicity	   of	   identities	   within	   Britain	  itself.	  In	  this	  discussion	  we	  see	  some	  classic	  aspects	  of	  Stuart	  Hall’s	  thought:	  clarity,	  awareness	  of	  complexity	  and	  difference,	  identification	  of	  patterns	  and	  constellations	  and	  connections,	  and	  a	  sharp	  critical	  edge.	  	  Later	   in	   his	   life,	   after	   his	   retirement	   from	   the	   Open	   University,	   Stuart’s	  preoccupations	  turned	  very	  specifically	   to	  black	  diaspora	  art	  and	  artists	   in	  Britain,	  encouraging,	  supporting,	  interpreting	  and	  historicising.	  He	  wrote	  further	  theoretical	  reflections	   on	   the	   nature	   of	   diaspora	   and	   the	   legacies	   of	   empire,	   and	   occasionally	  reflected	   on	   his	   own	   background.	   His	   family	   origins,	   he	   says	   in	   The	   Stuart	   Hall	  Project,	   were	   ‘part	   Scottish,	   part	   African,	   part	   Portuguese	   Jewish’;	   he	   could	   not	  explain	  his	  life	  by	  any	  one	  origin	  or	  fragment	  of	  ancestral	  and	  diasporic	  history.	  The	  Portuguese	  Jewish	  strand	  is	  especially	  intriguing,	  and	  allows	  us	  to	  ponder	  his	  work	  on	   identity	  a	   little	   further.	   It	   reprises	   the	   long	  and	  remarkable	  history	  of	  Sephardi	  Jews	   who	   were	   expelled	   from	   Spain	   in	   1492,	   some	   of	   whom	   went	   into	   exile	   in	  Portugal	  and	  from	  there	  to	  liberal	  Holland	  in	  the	  seventeenth	  century,	  a	  history	  that	  most	   famously	   includes	   Spinoza.	   Significantly,	   it	   also	   reprises	   the	   figure	   of	   the	  Marrano,	   outwardly	   Christian,	   secretly	   Jewish,	   prefiguring	   modernity	   in	   terms	   of	  mixed,	   uncertain,	   contradictory	   identities.	   The	   Marrano	   was	   a	   connoisseur	   of	  ambiguity	  and	  ambivalence,	  of	  an	  ironic	  self-­‐consciousness,	  playing	  with	  masks	  and	  a	  multiplicity	  of	  personae,	  heretical.	  Like	  Spinoza,	  like	  Georg	  Simmel’s	  stranger,	  like	  Stuart	   Hall,	   the	   Marrano	   was	   inside	   and	   outside	   a	   society	   at	   the	   same	   time,	  disturbing	  and	   interrupting	  and	  energising	   it.	   In	  Simmel’s	   terms,	   the	  Marrano	  was	  the	  wanderer	  who	  comes	  today	  and	  stays	  tomorrow.	  Stuart’s	  intellectual	  sensibility	  	  Ann Curthoys and John Docker—Stuart Hall	   305 was	  not	  Anglo-­‐American	  empiricist	  but	  continental	  European,	  as	  in	  Walter	  Benjamin	  and	  Hannah	  Arendt.	  Stuart’s	  intellectual	  sensibility	  was	  also	  akin	  to	  that	  of	  another	  exile,	  Edward	  Said,	  whom	  he	  often	  quotes.	  Stuart’s	   ideas	   were	   to	   influence	   many	   people,	   not	   least	   his	   wife	   Catherine,	  fourteen	   years	   younger	   and	   a	   distinguished	   feminist	   historian.	   After	   a	   series	   of	  books	  on	  British	  history,	  especially	  Family	  Fortunes,	  co-­‐written	  with	  the	  wonderful	  late	   Leonore	   Davidoff,	   which	   stressed	   the	   role	   of	   gender	   in	   the	   making	   of	  nineteenth-­‐century	  British	  culture,	  she	  turned	  to	  the	  issue	  of	  how	  the	  Empire	  made	  Britain,	   rather	   than	   the	   other	   way	   around.	   The	   result	   was	   her	   book	   Civilising	  Subjects:	  Metropole	  and	  Colony	  in	  the	  English	  Imagination	  1830–1867,	  which	  moves	  back	  and	  forth	  between	  Jamaica	  and	  Britain	  in	  the	  mid	  nineteenth	  century	  to	  show	  in	  detail	  how	  the	  identity	  of	  being	  ‘English’	  was	  formed	  in	  part	  through	  debates	  over	  what	  was	   happening	   in	   Jamaica.	   This	   has	   been	   an	   enormously	   influential	   book	   in	  British	  ‘new	  imperial’	  and	  settler	  colonial	  history,	  including	  here	  in	  Australia,	  and	  it	  is	  clearly	  in	  conversation	  with	  Stuart’s	  concerns	  with	  race,	  identity	  and	  empire.	  	  When	  we	  visited	  Stuart	  and	  Catherine	  in	  West	  Hampstead	  over	  the	  years,	  only	  two	  among	  many	  people	  to	  do	  so,	  we	  had	  many	  lively	  conversations	  (‘conversation’	  itself	  was,	   in	   fact,	   one	   of	   Stuart’s	   favourite	  words	   in	   a	   theoretical	   sense).	  One	  was	  over	   the	   question	   of	   husband–wife	   collaboration.	  Why,	   we	   asked,	   had	   they	   never	  written	  anything	  together,	  though	  their	  interests	  were	  so	  close?	  The	  answer,	  Stuart	  said,	   was	   their	   considerable	   age	   gap—their	   careers	   peaked	   at	   different	   times.	  Another	  time,	   in	  2012,	  Stuart	  talked	  about	  his	  progress	   in	  writing	  his	  memoirs.	  He	  had,	  he	  said,	  spent	  the	  last	  week	  writing	  angrily	  about	  his	  mother,	  and	  it	  was	  clear	  that	  his	  identity	  was	  in	  part	  bound	  up	  with	  rejecting	  her	  obsessive	  concern	  with	  race	  and	   status.	   He	   came	   to	   England	   to	   escape	   all	   that,	   but	   in	   fact,	   he	   said	   in	   another	  context,	  he	  never	  did;	  he	  simply	  found	  it	  in	  a	  different	  form.	  	  Turning	  into	  Ulysses	  Street	  to	  visit	  Stuart	  and	  Catherine,	  John	  would	  often	  smile	  as	  he	  was	   reminded	  of	   another	   insider-­‐outsider,	   James	   Joyce,	   the	   Irish	  outsider	   to	  Englishness	   who	   exiled	   himself	   in	   Europe	   yet	   created	   a	   remarkable	   novelistic	  language	   in	   English,	   just	   as	   Stuart	   created	   a	   beautiful	   conceptual	   language	   for	   the	  adventure	  of	   ideas	  we	  call	   theory.	  The	  name	   ‘Ulysses	  Street’	  also	  can	  remind	  us	  of	  C.P.	   Cavafy’s	   poem	   ‘Ithaka’,	   urging	  us	   as	  modern	  Odysseans	   to	  make	  our	   voyage	   a	  long	  one.	   It	   should	  be	   ‘full	   of	   adventure,	   full	   of	   discovery’,	   visiting	   ‘many	  Egyptian	  	  	   	  VOLUME22 NUMBER1 MAR2016	  306 cities	   to	  gather	  stores	  of	  knowledge	   from	  their	  scholars’	  or	  stopping	  at	  Phoenician	  trading	  stations	  to	  buy	  ‘mother	  of	  pearl	  and	  coral,	  amber	  and	  ebony’,	  that	  is,	  to	  make	  many	   and	   various	   journeys	   in	   our	   search	   for	   truth.	   In	   its	   closing	   stanza,	   ‘Ithaka’	  refers	   to	   Odysseus’	   wisdom,	   ‘so	   full	   of	   experience’,	   and	   we	   can	   think	   here	   of	   the	  wonderful	  photos	  of	  Stuart	  as	  Odysseus,	  now	  old,	  his	  sculptured	  face	  etched	  with	  the	  wisdom	  of	  the	  ages.	  Genevieve	   Lloyd,	   in	   her	   book	   on	   Spinoza,	   tells	   us	   that	   in	   the	   Ethics	   Spinoza	  proposes	  that	  the	  human	  mind	  cannot	  be	  absolutely	  destroyed	  with	  the	  body;	  there	  remains	  something	  of	  it	  that	  is	  eternal.	  So	  Spinoza,	  so	  Stuart	  Hall.	  	  —	  	  Ann	   Curthoys	   and	   John	   Docker	   are	   both	   honorary	   professors	   at	   the	   University	   of Sydney. 	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  	  —NOTES  1	  Stuart	  Hall,	  ‘The	  Local	  and	  the	  Global:	  Globalization	  and	  Ethnicity’,	  in	  Anne	  McClintock,	  Aarmir	  Mufti	  and	  Ella	  Shohat	  (eds),	  Dangerous	  Liaisons:	  Gender,	  Nation,	  and	  Postcolonial	  Perspectives,	  University	  of	  Minnesota	  Press,	  Minneapolis,	  1997,	  p.	  174.	  	  —BIBLIOGRAPHY	  Akomfrah,	  J.,	  (dir),	  The	  Stuart	  Hall	  Project,	  U.K.,	  Smoking	  Dog	  Films	  &	  Lina	  Gopaul	  <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IM9eZYLvzTc>.	  	  Cavafy,	  C.P.,	  ‘Ithaka’,	  trans.	  Keeley	  and	  Sherrard,	  The	  Official	  Website	  of	  the	  Cavafy	  Archive	  <http://www.cavafy.com/poems/content.asp?cat=1&id=74>.	  	  Hall,	  C.,	  Civilising	  Subjects:	  Metropole	  and	  Colony	  in	  the	  English	  Imagination	  1830–1867,	  University	  of	  Chicago	  Press,	  Chicago,	  2002.	  Hall,	  S.,	  ‘The	  Local	  and	  the	  Global:	  Globalization	  and	  Ethnicity’,	  in	  A.	  McClintock,	  A.	  Mufti	  and	  E.	  Shohat	  (eds),	  Dangerous	  Liaisons:	  Gender,	  Nation,	  and	  Postcolonial	  Perspectives,	  University	  of	  Minnesota	  Press,	  Minneapolis,	  1997.	  Lloyd,	  G.,	  Routledge	  Philosophy	  Guidebook	  to	  Spinoza	  and	  the	  Ethics,	  Routledge,	  London,	  1996. 

Stuart Hall: Reflections, Memories, Appreciations

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Stuart Hall: Reflections, Memories, Appreciations

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