As a student in 1971 I was desperate to be “hip”, and as the social secretary of my hall of residence at Nottingham University, I booked Brian Patten (Obituary, 30 September) to read at an evening of poetry.
The elfin figure who arrived alone was totally devoid of airs and graces, and had an Ariel-like presence. After a mesmerising series of readings, he inquired if there was a floor in someone’s room he could sleep on – as students we never thought of anything as obvious as accommodation. Many students offered their floors. I have no idea where he slept and the next morning he was gone.
Iain Melvin
Askerswell, Dorset
