The passing away last Monday of Anton Cassar at the ripe old age of 90 brought countless memories to many different generations of journalists, writers and poets.

His wholesome presence in both the journalistic and literary fields is something that only a few of his prewar generation could muster. The man was, undoubtedly, a stalwart with a heart.

Anton Cassar masterfully combined with incredible ease the two worlds he lived in. Not only was he deservedly credited with giving the Maltese language print media the injection it so much needed at the very start of the Swinging Sixties with the successful publication in 1962 of l-orizzont, he also threw the doors wide open to the newwave Maltese literature that was occurring in the latter half of that same decade, an immediate result of the post-Independence intellectual movement that was eyeing national identity from a completely new perspective, i.e. away from the overwhelming religious and jingoistic attitudes of the time.

Using his pioneering “literary page”, Anton Cassar offered invaluable space and easy public access to a new generation of Maltese writers and poets, 17-to20-year-olds most of us, who were seeking to produce works on themes that had, until then, been considered taboo. From abortion and unemployment to homosexuality and manic depression, the new writings and poetry were first met with derision on the part of some of the “old-timers” who had seen, in the new and upbeat Moviment Qawmien Letterarju, some kind of emerging social rascal. But it was the Sixties and the whole world was in positive, albeit psychedelic, turmoil.

In the end, Cassar was proved right. The Sixties social and literary revolution was yet another generational delta, where different streams and different sources met… over some misconception. He had both the mind and the heart to see this earlier than anyone else. We went knocking at his editorial door on a weekly basis, habitually dumping on his already sagging desk tons of type-written material which he then had to sift, edit and adapt for publication. Eventually, the “literary page” became a standard feature on all Maltese language newspapers, but before this happened, Anton Cassar was criticized by several of his contemporaries who accused him of “giving vent to the modern poetry of dots and soap bubbles” (concrete poetry, actually) that was then being produced by some of us.

In day-to-day journalism, Anton’s newspaper was a complete departure from the boringly conservative style of the old Il-Berqa where he had first won his professional spurs. For the first time, Maltese newspaper readers were regaled with five-column news photographs and a fresher linguistic approach to reporting. He led his cream of up-and-coming journalists by example, often still being on the floor when it was time to go to print. Cassar never felt inhibited by his political beliefs and was adamant in giving all his stories a sense of fairness to all parties concerned. This often led to many highly emotive editorial sessions, but time proved him right again and again.

Anton Cassar will always be an icon to us who have had the privilege to work with him and under him. On a personal note, he was conscious and supportive of the fact that I have tried, throughout my career, to emulate him. We shared the same two worlds, journalism and literature. For some time, we also crossed paths over the waters of Grand Harbour in connection with the National Regatta, he for Marsa, yours truly for Kalkara. He was the usual calm and sober monitor of any ugly situation (and ugly situations at the Regatta are frequent and inevitable); I was the young volcano he tamed quickly with a mere smile.

What’s the score?

I told you in my last column that I wouldn’t miss the Malta Arts Council’s great evening of Yevtushenko poetry in the presence of the great Russian poet himself. And I didn’t. He was a Sixties literary and social idol we read and talked about in our youth.

So I simply chose to forego the big World Cup live transmissions of the day to make sure I made it in time to the Russian chapel in San Anton Palace (horrible acoustics, by the way). In between a shower and a change of clothes, I had actually managed to somehow watch the first half of the Brazil-Chile “Group of 16” encounter.

I saw the great man sitting on a sofa in the corridor with MAC chairman Albert Marshall as I approached with unbridled reverence towards him. I wanted to meet him, to possibly throw a couple of questions we have all wanted to ask him for so many years. I wanted to listen to him and, in truth, to go down on my knees and adore. Me, the infidel.

Albert Marshall kindly introduced me to Yevtushenko, saying I was one of many who that warm evening had preferred to come to his poetry rather than watching the footie on TV. I said to myself, here at last it is... I am all ears, when the great poet looked up at me and asked bluntly: what’s the score?

Emm....I left them at 0-0, I replied, still shocked by the unpoetic reality of it all.

Good for Chile, retorted Yevtushenko before the next wave of visitors deposited itself between us. Thank goodness, his greatness shifted back to sheer poetry when we went inside the chapel.....

The Republic monument

The need for a proper Republic monument inside the capital city has long been felt and it is good to learn of the new designs and the spatial importance it is to be given at last, 40 years too late.

But I have to admit the location has left me cold. I would have wanted to see the monument erected in prominent Republic Square in downtown Valletta, and that means replacing the old Queen Victoria statue.

Yes, some may see all this as merely a process of unsavoury chess moves, but the truth of the matter is that the replacement itself would be perfectly symbolic of the whole thing. In 1974, the Republic replaced the old foreign monarchy; in 2014+ the monument replaces the statue of the old foreign queen. Can anything be smoother and more logical than this?