My colleague, Bill Boggs, came over from America to work
with Andrew Bailey and me on a new book on creativity. (Sadly it never saw the
light of day.)
Quite early in Act One, I noticed that Bill was asleep. Irritated, I wondered why I had brought him along.
Then, later, I glanced in his direction again. He was awake. And his lips were moving constantly. He was silently mouthing the words of the play. All of them, apparently.
I didn’t know at that time that he suffered from sleep apnoea and was likely to drop off for a nap at any time.
Nor had I realised that he knew Julius Caesar inside out.
Since we were nearby, I took them to a performance of Julius
Caesar by the RSC in Stratford.
Quite early in Act One, I noticed that Bill was asleep. Irritated, I wondered why I had brought him along.
Then, later, I glanced in his direction again. He was awake. And his lips were moving constantly. He was silently mouthing the words of the play. All of them, apparently.
I didn’t know at that time that he suffered from sleep apnoea and was likely to drop off for a nap at any time.
Nor had I realised that he knew Julius Caesar inside out.


