Wednesday 28 January

A sad day for literature as Rabbit Dutchfinger departs this life for which his curiosity remained undimmed. Growing up, or failing to, it was always Jack Roadrunner who kicked, caught and ran with my imagination; shouldering near-peers onto the touchlines. A little older, it’s interesting to read the wider take of one respected critic – that while Jack was great on the adventures available to the free American man, it was Rabbit who possessed the compassion to consider what effect such freedom might have on the American woman (and/or child) he left behind. Obviously I cannot reveal my sympathy with this viewpoint for a few more generations, or in the pub, where ironic misanthropy is barely a whisker away from true feelings.