Tuesday, March 11, 2008


FUNERAL SERVICE FOR THE LATE RICHARD KING

There was a large turnout yesterday of family, friends and book trade colleagues for the service for Richard held at St.Matthew's Catholic Church, Fendalton, Christchurch.

Among the many book trade folk I noticed booksellers, publishers, designers, editors, agants, academics, broadcasters and authors, including David & Wendy Ault, Philip King, Brian Phillips, Paul Greenberg, Jenny Goodman, Claire Davis, Renee Lang, Wendy Harrex, Quentin Wilson, Roger Steele, Graeme Leather, David Elworthy, Roz Henry, Tony Tizzard, Morrin Rout, Gavin Bishop, Jeffrey Paparoa Holman, Geoff Walker, Fiona Farrell and Jeff Field, Patrick Evans, Jane Connor, Kaye Godfrey, Rachael Scott, Anna Rogers, Michael Gifkins, along with most of the staff of UBS Canterbury where Richard's partner, Gillian Newman, is the assistant manager.

There were several wonderful eulogies including the following delivered by author Fiona Farrell:

I want to speak this morning as one of the many writers who have worked with Richard over the years. I met him in 1996 when he designed my second novel. He made an exquisite job of it: every detail was carefully considered, the craftsmanship was meticulous. And by the time it was published, my rough text had been transformed into something beautiful - but when it came to the launch, in the flurry of thank yous in my speech, I completely forgot to mention him. I missed his name from the list. A silly oversight – he pointed it out later as we were standing about chatting and drinking - not irritably, but with a kind of good humoured, rueful reproach and I thanked him then, of course, but the public moment had passed.

And now here’s another public moment. Not one any of us could possibly have imagined before the shock of last Wednesday.

And all I want to say is thank you. Thank you, Richard for the care you took of my text and all those other texts by all those other writers and editors with whom you worked over the years.

Thank you for your clear insightful intelligence. Thank you for your eye for beauty, for form and balance, for the beauty of simple natural things like tomatoes or green beans or a mountain landscape, and the way that sense of beauty found its expression in your work. Thank you for the way you turned a professional connection so readily into friendship. And the best kind of friendship too, with a livelyminded man, a decent man, a man of strong beliefs prepared to argue, a funny man, a man with a strong conscience, a man who possessed that necessary quality of perennial youthfulness, a man who loved music and sport and other people – his children particularly and Gillian.

Sometimes New Zealand literature can seem an abstract thing, quarrelsome perhaps, or elitist. But in your house, Richard, around your table, with you and Gillian and the friends we met in your company, books found their proper place, as just another kind of good conversation. We’ll miss that conversation dreadfully. I want to say that.

But most of all, I want to say, at last and it really is this time, at last, properly: thank you.


And this from Jeff Field, Chairman of Canterbury University Press:

I first met Richard 15 years ago when his friend Mike Bradstock lured him down to Christchurch to do contract publishing work for Canterbury University Press.
Then in 2002, when CUP was under threat of closure, Richard took over and built it up into a university press with a fine reputation.
I worked very closely with Richard over that time and developed a tremendous regard for his talents and his human qualities.
At a personal level he became a friend; we shared similar life views and values, a similar sense of humour and a love of cricket and other sports.



And on a professional level, I had the utmost admiration for his abilities. He could do it all in publishing: he could assess manuscripts; build rapport with authors; edit skilfully and elegantly; design beautiful books; and manage all the production processes.
Those fantastic craft skills were complemented by his excellent interpersonal and networking skills. Supported by Kaye Godfrey and Rachel Scott at CUP, he developed excellent relations with his fellow Christchurch publishers David Elworthy, Ros Henry, Quentin Wilson, Brian Phillips and Philip King.


During Richard’s years in charge of CUP, the press produced some 70 new titles and reprints, put 85 thousand books on readers’ shelves throughout New Zealand and overseas, and figured regularly in various book awards.
His CUP books were finalists in eight Montana Book Awards and he won three category titles, with books of which he was very proud (Dancing Leaves, Deep New Zealand, Douglas Lilburn).


And, poignantly, there are a number of books to be printed and launched. On Wednesday at the Christchurch Art Gallery, we will launch a memoir of artist Bill Sutton, a book which exemplifies Richard’s strengths; a charming read, beautifully designed and an author full of admiration and gratitude.
His last completed book is a fitting memorial. He had just finalised a 900-page monster on the Natural History of Canterbury, to which we will be adding a dedication.


Richard leaves a tremendous legacy in publishing, to add to the lovely memories we all have of him as a fine human being.

All in all it was an emotional time, a time of farewell, Gillian reduced us all to tears with her heart-breaking rendering of W.H.Auden's famous and moving poem , Funeral Blues:
Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Then Philip King & Morrin Rout came forward and sang a beautiful Irish farewell lament, "the parting glass":


Of all the money that e'er I spent
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that ever I did
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all.

If I had money enough to spend
And leisure time to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in my home
That sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips
I own she has my heart entralled
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all.

Oh, all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be with you all.

It was a grand service, one of which I am sure Richard would have approved and enjoyed.

Then we repaired to Gillian & Richard's home for cups of tea, and food and wine and memories and the stories flowed................

FOOTNOTE
A handsome and appropriately very well designed order of service was prepared by Quentin Wilson, (just as Richard was, Quentin is a fine book designer), which makes a valuable keepsake.

It included the two photographs which appear on this posting. The first, at the top was taken by Gillian last year when she and Richard were enjoying a picnic lunch in St.James Park, London, and the second (right) of Richard in the days when he looked every inch a rock star.



Bookman Beattie salutes you Richard, rest in peace old friend.

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