I am very sorry. We were friends, if only distant ones. I stayed with him once and I have three books of his poetry on my shelves. I don't know what happens if you google Simon. He was so pissed off with the dumbing down of English Literature at or universities that he joined the French faculty and I honour him for it. Here is one of his poems.
Satie At The End Of Term
The mind's eye aches from Henry James,
Like arms from heavy cases lugged for miles.
Theme and structure, imagery and tone
From Lawrence, too; how hard I dug
For insights sunk, yards deep, in turgid prose.
Theme and structure, imagery and tone
Web of necessity in Daniel Deronda
Gloom in Dorrit, gloom in Flaubert,
One more week to go at
Theme and structure, imagery and tone.
So fitful-fresh as April sun.
You're welcome, clown;
Your good melodic dissonance
Will pierce low clouds of syllabus
With humour's grace,
Mercy of irreverence.
I had always meant to see him again and now I can't. He's right about Satie, too.
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