New Escapologist : December 2023
But always smiling. And always walking.
Welcome. This is the newsletter from the stable of the magazine of the same name. Thanks for reading. It’s just a short one this month.
Why short? Because I’ve been beavering away at our latest print edition. Yes, Issue 15: Experiments in Living is available now in print and digital formats. Go get ‘em, tiger!
The new issue features interviews with Jonathan Simons of Analog Sea Review and Ariel Anderssen who escaped the strictures of the Jehovah’s Witnesses to become a BDSM model. It has a great review by Landis Blair of a 45-mile walk from his Chicago art practice to his hometown of Waukegan and an absolute tonne of Robert Wringham as you might imagine. All your favourite columnists like Tom Hodgkinson, McKinley Valentine and Jacob Lund Fisker are here for the party too. It’s a good issue.
Subscriber copies and pre-orders have been shipped. Some UK orders have probably been received already but copies for EU and other locations will take a little longer (though they’re on their way).
Digital editions have also been emailed to those who bought them. Thanks to everyone who responded to our survey on that topic and to friend Marcus for his time and patience, the .epub edition is much better than previous efforts. It has decent typography, clicky web links, a proper TOC, a cover and author indexing for your e-library, and all the rest of it. It’s available to download for £8 here.
(I’m going to reformat Issue 14 in the new year and circulate it to anyone who bought it previously, so look out for that too.)
Thank you for reading the magazine and the newsletter this year. 2023 has been a big one for New Escapologist. In August we came back from the abyss with a bang, a second new issue has arrived now in December, and we’ll be soon experimenting with distribution to reach select bookshops in the UK and EU.
None of this activity is making and money yet but it’s a lot of fun to spread a message like ours (that there are other ways to live than the worker-consumer treadmill, that you don’t always have to do what you’re told, that freedom of movement when combined with human empathy is a beautiful thing) and it’s all coming up Milhouse.
The Lost Art of Declining Politely
Ours, as you know, is the magazine of “getting out of things.” We tend to focus on big things like jobs, but I sometimes think about adjusting the microscope to talk about escaping micro-commitments like parties you don’t want to go to.
I usually bin this idea because, really, it comes down to: just say no — politely.
An item in today’s Guardian confirms this decision but also made me think a little further about why so many of us have trouble saying no.
Maybe it’s because you don’t want to damage a relationship. But if a relationship is so fragile that it could break when you don’t want to go dancing, is it really a relationship worth preserving at such costs?
Maybe the fear of saying no is to save your own reputation. You don’t want to be seen as a bad sport or a wrecker or no fun. Not going to the party would be bad press for yourself.
I think the real reason, however, is a sort of projection. It’s our own fear of rejection (combined with decent human empathy) that is to blame. Because we don’t like be rejected, we couldn’t possibly reject another.
So that’s where the work needs to happen. If you don’t like to say no, you might need to work on your own fears.
At the risk of being mildly indiscrete, I think I learned the art of saying “no” from our own Tom Hodgkinson. When he asked me to write a column for the Idler in 2016, I giddily sent him my first try. “This is not what I had in mind,” he said, “This is more of a diary piece.” He explained what he was looking for and I got on with it.
It wasn’t the answer I wanted but at no point did I question Tom’s authority (or natural right) to say no. Since then, I’ve not struggled to reject New Escapologist submissions I didn’t care for. And when I politely declined an early cover design for Stern Plastic Owl, the designer thanked me for my clarity and we got on with doing the right thing instead.
That Guardian article does not encourage people to decline honestly or politely: it encourages us to wuss out and to tell white lies. This comes at a cost to our character and it disrespects people.
One of the things people struggle with, for example, is saying no to charity workers on the street. The article suggests we tell them that we already donate to another charity so as to “validate their cause and therefore their endeavour.” They know you might be lying, apparently, “but they also know why, so the exchange ends up being quite pleasant.”
I think not. Just because you’re afraid of rejection doesn’t mean they are. Respect them by being honest. Don’t waste their time. Let them go free to find success with a less stingy pedestrian. Here’s how to handle a chugger: don’t break your stride, smile kindly, and (at most) say “no thanks, sorry.” But always smiling. And always walking.
The same goes, basically, for any other request you don’t want to indulge. Decline politely, with clarity and honesty, and don’t stop.
Hostile Environment
Yesterday, my partner got her certificate of citizenship. She took an oath of allegiance and we stood for the National Anthem without laughing. We had our picture taken with a portrait of the Queen (the new one of Charlie, they said, was still in the post).
(This story’s a bit of a rant. I’d encourage you to read it but let’s do so over here instead.)
I Preserved My Freedom
In old books and films, I sometimes spot an indication that it was easier to live frugally in the past than it is today.
Ah, but wages rise with inflation you say? Well, that’s sometimes true. But there’s also the Big Mac Index to think about.
Anyway, I spotted another example today. It was in a memoir, written in the ’70s and recounting events from the ’60s. The passage refers to life in 1966:
At this time I was doing the book-keeping for Michael Rainey’s shop for £10 a week. I only had to go in a few times a week and balance the accounts, so it suited me well. I preserved my freedom at the same time as getting an income. Michael had been in the position of having no money himself and he appreciated the difficulties.
Now. There are a few things to say about this. First, there’s this business of living on a tenner a week. I am exceptionally frugal and have been connived a low-income/low-expenditure situation to arrive at weekly expenses of £130 (I spend more in reality but that’s the amount I need to stay housed and alive). A more typical figure is £628 per household per week (so £261 per person based on the UK average household size of 2.4 people). While £10 in 1966 might be a sum of money trivial enough to be called “a tenner” and to give away to a silly friend, I don’t think many of us—least of all brick-and-mortar shopkeepers—would part with £261 a week on a similar wheeze today.
Second, I suppose the requirement to “go in a few times a week” would still hamper your freedom to an extent. You can’t leave the country on a whim. You have to put clothes and shoes on to do your work. The phone could ring with a summons while you’re in the bath. But it’s a hell of a lot better than a full-time job. Even I’d do it. Also, 1966 was a more tactile, physical world: going out to accomplish things, riding buses, and physically tickling through paperwork were more normal and it wouldn’t be such an affront to freedom as it would be today with our networked digital technology. I think I’d prefer that physical world in a way: all those cigarettes and pencil sharpeners and vacuum tubes would be fun. I could be wrong.
Third, working people, as a general rule, can seldom afford the sort of empathy exhibited by the memoirist’s friend. We have our own troubles, our own desperate shortage of money and time and patience. Urgh. What a wretched age. Send me back in time NOW!
*opens one eye.* Did it work? No? Blast. Well, at least the Internet keeps me out of trouble. Mostly.
The brand new New Escapologist Issue 15 is available now for less than the price of an on-call accountant in 1966 without even adjusting for inflation.
Much love and complements of the season,
Robert Wringham
www.newescapologist.co.uk
www.wringham.co.uk