Unusual People – Arthur Goodland

Cheerful, covered in thin gold rims, chubby fat, cherubic Arthur Goodland, kindness in his right soul, love of beauty in nature, art and kind of woman – no one would automatically see in him what he has ‘to train very well. a chemical engineer and hard chief executive at a highly successful company and industry. Yet Arthur had a first class degree from Cambridge and was Director of Bookers Sugar Estates Factory Operations when Guyana’s sugar industry reached peak production of 370,000 tonnes in the 1960s, never before or since. He was a great activist and manager of men – not to forget that, as I write about other things.

Arthur and I were colleagues at Bookers Sugar Estates – he was managing the factories, I was involved in sugar marketing. We discussed issues as colleagues, but often talked about other interests as friends. He wanted to pick my mind about poetry specifically; I listened with great interest to what he had to say about archeology and art. We had a common love for the great English painter Turner and agreed that one of the most wonderful places on earth was the Turner Room at Tate Gallery in London.

When my first marriage broke down I was lost in disappointment and confusion. “Come and stay in my home until you sort things out,” Arthur told me. Kindness is a matter of fact that means so much. I stayed with him for about 6 weeks and found a new balance. Our infinite variety of conversations helped a lot – laughter and “life still has a lot to offer” balanced the sad reality. Arthur to be thanked from the top and bottom of my heart.

I think this was when I showed Arthur The Marbleaus manuscript (which was to become The Hummingbird Tree when it was published) which had been dust-collecting for years since I finished writing it in the 1950s. He liked it and suggested he send it for me to a friend he knew in London, Herbert Van Thal, a literary agent. That was done, resulting in Heinemann receiving the book for prompt publication, and went on to win the prestigious Royal Literary Society prize for a new novel with the honor of a Fellowship.

“One day I’ll identify a very expensive bottle of St Emilion Red that you owe me,” said Arthur. For now Houston Blue Label had to be adequate.

Arthur must have spent an unbelievable amount of time and effort contributing to the great success of the sugar industry at the time. At this time the industry was making great strides – technically in the factories (Arthur’s responsibility), agronomically in the field and also in improving people’s lives and prospects according to the Jock Campbell general injunction – “People are more important than shipping, sugar shops and estates. ”Arthur played an important part in what I remember was partly an exciting crusade.

But he certainly had time for other interests. Denis Williams, Director of the Walter Roth Museum, was a good friend and Arthur became a keen and talented amateur archaeologist. He did a good and important job in discovering and researching ancient Amerindian sites. As always, his enthusiasm was contagious as he explained the discoveries he helped make in the “humps” inside.

Of all his other interests, his sculpture was by far the one I knew best. And let me let the story of “Imoinda the Slave Princess” stand not only for my friend Arthur’s passion for art, but also for the unforgettable creative spark.

It began when Arthur, who used to search for “found art” on the sand beyond the seashore, saw one huge tree trunk thrown up on the shore by a storm and given a vision of some beauty in which he could bring him life. He got a fork lift and a tractor trailer and bought the large tree trunk back to his home on Main Street, Georgetown, and placed it in his inner courtyard where he grew orchids.

And there for two or three years she worked on it with an ax I think and saw and hatcheries and sharp knives and a sculptor’s gouger and all the tools until finally Imoinda the slave princess and her paramour slowly but it certainly came to life and was ready to be polished and presented. I remember weekend after weekend, whenever I could, visiting Arthur at home and sitting and drinking rum and ginger and watching him work and talk to him as he practiced his art and finished his love labor. Ah, I can see Arthur now – tailor-made, in khaki shorts, shirtless, dripping with sweat, breaking off to take long drinks of rum and ginger and ice, explaining what he was done between discussing the wonderful ways of the world, happy to point laughing with joy. How good that was. Life at its best.

The launch of the work, the unveiling of the sculpture, was a great success, a social and cultural event not to be missed. Arthur had left one bright teat yet to be added to the Princess’s left breast – so people were invited to attend the “Imoinda Nipple Repair Ceremony”. The invitation list was comprehensive. I remember it included Georgetown Catholic and Anglican Bishops but I can’t remember whether either or both were present. I also remember that two women of the night who had acted as models were very happy at the ceremony.

The event was a great success, with a good turnout – who might want to miss it. The Chairman of Bookers was visiting from London and attended and said a few words of congratulation. And in conclusion, as he ascended the ladder, let the tarpaulin fall in defense of the proudly carved Princess and her lover, and laid the teat as Prime Minister Forbes Burnham noted the final honors of a wonderful evening with considerable aplomb.

The statue was gifted to the nation. It is now on display in George Walcott’s main lecture theater at the University of Guyana with its official title “Orinooko and Imoinda; The Royal Slave ”1669.

When Arthur retired he went to live in Brazil in a town called Olinda. And beautifully it must be as Arthur described it. I do not know how he discovered it. – on one of his “trips to the world, we only get one chance” – but he loved the place. From there, I received letters from him and sent replies regularly enough. He had developed an interest – and learned a whole new skill – in translating modern writers from Brazil into English and eventually got English translations of entire books by Brazilian authors made by Arthur himself. It surprised me that he could have learned so much to such a high standard in retirement. How fine and endlessly proficient is the mind of man!

A poem by Arthur’s author has been translated although this poem is not Arthur’s translation. But I think of Arthur when I read the last verse of Mario de Andrade’s poem, “My Soul Has a Hat”:

“The essentials that make life useful.

I want to surround myself with people

who knows how to touch the hearts of those who hit life hard

learned to grow, with sweet touches of the soul.

Yes, I’m in a hurry.

I am in a hurry to live with the intensity that only maturity can bring.

I do not intend to waste any of the remaining desserts.

I’m sure they’ll be fine,

far more than those eaten so far.

My goal is to reach the end satisfied

and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

We have two lives

and the second begins when you realize you only have one. “

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