Turning Over the Pebbles: A Life in Cricket and in the Mind

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We are treated to tasty aperitifs of both Wittgenstein and Bion, and appetising entrees into their work. We hear of Brearley’s admiration for Wittgenstein’s unsparing, iconoclastic thinking, and above all his fearless drive to go his own way. Still, the watchful and the playful converge for Brearley; he artfully stitches together a memory of the aptly named Cambridge philosopher John Wisdom, visiting Brearley at UC Irvine, delightedly admiring kites in the sky: “Look how high they are!”, and echoing Wittgenstein’s “capacity for awe and reverence”. ‘“Don’t think, look,” [Wittgenstein] wrote’…’Looking, really looking and really seeing connections, is like hearing music.” But the path of wisdom and insight is not all one kind, easy gradient. Brearley applauds the unremitting quest for deep understanding in Wittgenstein: ‘What is the use of studying philosophy if it doesn’t improve your thinking about the important questions of everyday life?’ There is unity, of a kind, in all this, but one needs to put oneself in Brearley’s hands to let him reveal it – and himself – in his own way. His reminiscences of the neglected Cambridge philosophers with whom he had once studied (John Wisdom, Renford Bambrough) will be new even to those who have heard all his tales of playing with Gower and Gatting. His gentle explanations of the theories of the philosophers and psychoanalysts who influenced him – Ludwig Wittgenstein and Marion Milner among them – are accurate and accessible without feeling in the least dumbed-down. Ben Stokes in the third Test against Australia at Headingley in August 2019. Photograph: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian

Mike Brearley and Ian Botham walk off as spectators rush on to the outfield during the sixth and final Ashes Test in August 1981. Brearley remained undefeated in 19 home Tests. Photograph: Getty Images It was famously said of Brearley during his captaincy that he had a PhD in people. I can thoroughly recommend his earlier work, a distillation of leadership insights from that period, The Art of Captaincy. I first heard about it twenty years ago when teaching in London and have read it repeatedly: the model of an open-minded leader with a confident sense of self is one that I treasure. The psychoanalysis came later, after three years as a lecturer in philosophy. In retrospect, however, everything seemed to point towards a career in psychoanalysis. Brearley links his life experiences, his academic training, and his wide reading with this eventual profession. “This valuing of the examined life,” he writes, “is what most obviously links literature, philosophy and psychoanalysis.” In another place he says, “In moves towards complexity or simplicity, music and analysis can mirror each other.”That impression continues here in this singular memoir that eschews the traditional model of linear life narrative, boldly going where few memoirists have gone before along a meandering route, free associating about life, experiences, literature, figures in philosophy and psychoanalysis (especially Wittgenstein and Wilfred Bion), all the while identifying the meaningful threads in the warp and weft, drawing them together into a pleasing weave. We then proceed down another fascinating avenue, where Brearley fondly recollects his first reading of Henry James’ Portrait of a Lady, recommended by a university contemporary. As with so much else here, we soon move beyond easy appreciation, with Brearley considering the telling tensions between involvement and observation within James himself. It is highly probable that James wrestled with homoerotic urges for the whole of his life. His resolution of those urges was to become the eternal watcher, sublimating and reconciling his own and others’ challenged psychologies within the labyrinthine introspection of his (in)famously lapidary prose. The Latin word for ‘pebbles’ gives us ‘calculus’, the study of continuous change. It may not be a coincidence that it figures in the title of the book. Why do we do this? Well, whatever your intentions were at the beginning of a year, six months later, any one of the following could have happened: This is followed by a revisitation of Brearley’s appearance on Radio 3’s Private Passions, exploring his choices of classical music, including a perhaps surprising selection of Birtwistle’s Punch and Judy, then onto a fascinating chapter on Bion, a seminal influence on Brearley personally and professionally. A World War One Tank officer, Bion won the DSO, laconically remarking: “I think I might with equal relevance have been recommended for a court martial. It all depended on the direction which one took when one ran away.” This could probably apply to everyone, in one way or another.

Turning Over the Pebbles is not as other memoirs. On the one hand, Brearley reveals little of himself. Who does he vote for? How does he spend his days? What of friendships and enemies? On the other, he reveals everything. We know who he is now – or, at least, in our own minds, we think we do. It sounds contrived, but Brearley’s skill as a knowing – although never self-deprecating – narrator makes it work. He admits to being regarded as an “odd fish” in a testosterone-fuelled dressing room, whether taking his blokey teammate Fred Titmus to see Benjamin Britten’s opera Peter Grimes (“Fred was taken with it”) or bearing the brunt of Geoffrey Boycott’s temper: “I don’t want any of your egghead intellectual stuff,” the Yorkshireman growled at him. A strong merit is the depth in which various issues are aired, and the ability to articulate and appreciate different points of view other than his own – rarely is he opinionated or intransigent. Among those considered are the clash between sports lovers and culture lovers over which is the higher intrinsic value, the benefits or otherwise of studying Classics at university, and different interpretations of literary writers. He was sceptical about the attractions of working for the Civil Service, yet allowed himself to be interviewed for the position of a spy based overseas!From 1st July 2021, VAT will be applicable to those EU countries where VAT is applied to books - this additional charge will be collected by Fed Ex (or the Royal Mail) at the time of delivery. Shipments to the USA & Canada: His philosophical detachment from his 2019 non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma diagnosis makes for a brief but telling episode. In lesser hands, equating his illness-induced disdain for a baked potato with Napoleon’s soldiers dying on the return from Moscow would be faintly ludicrous. In Brearley’s, it is desperately poignant. Can life ever be perfect? Of course not: that isn’t the point of life, but that shouldn’t stop us learning from and enjoying the ride. Towards the end of this hugely enjoyable book, we have a pithy anecdote on Wittgenstein: ‘Shortly before he died, [he] said, “Tell them I’ve had a wonderful life.” He also said that fear of death is a sign of a life not well lived.’