The Salopian no. 160 - Summer 2017

88 OLD SALOPIAN NEWS
at every opportunity. It is not a passion which I
share, but keen anglers will find themselves well
catered for.
Selby’s progress through prep school and public
school is scrupulously charted and, as elsewhere,
he reports the rough with the smooth. It is
intriguing to read that another boy is reported
as being “well-behaved, except when under
Martin’s influence”. Selby a bad example? I don’t
believe it! He must have reformed, as he was
later appointed head boy.
At Marlborough, he develops the interest in
Modern Languages which was to play such an
important role in his career - or careers. He takes
National Service in his stride, an interlude before
going up to Cambridge and it is while he is in
the RAF that we see a hint of the schoolmasterto-be:
“I enjoyed taking teams and refereeing…”
The Cambridge years he records fairly briefly,
the main event of the period being a tour of
Scandinavia. Even his degree result is put at
arm’s length by the use of the passive: “The
Tripos part II exams had been taken…”
Thus armed with a 2:1 in Languages, Selby
sets off in search of a job. One diary entry
concerning rival candidates for the Diplomatic
Service is revealing: “...some behaved with
disgusting pretentiousness and affectation, as if
they were the cream of the aristocracy and sure
to get through”. Strong words from a usually
moderate pen. Though he may not have been
one of these Chosen People, Selby is accepted
and so begins a period of almost twenty years
travel and experience which forms the backbone
of this book. One photograph of the author in
Moscow with his boss, the Ambassador, sums
up his starting position of Private Secretary,
“deferential, glad to be of use”. As he worked
his way up via contrasting postings in Russia,
Bolivia, Pakistan and Bulgaria, Selby addresses the challenge
of getting to know each country and its culture and now in
his memoirs he passes on the fruits of his labours. And of
course there are the tales from the riverbank. Wherever he
goes, Selby does not spare the rod.
Rising through the ranks as he was, Selby was on course for
a senior posting, if not one of the glittering prizes. He would
have his day at the Palace and letters after his name - and
yet he gave it all up to go into teaching. Why? He had had
enough of “the interminable round of cocktail parties and
official entertaining” and he just wanted to teach. Given
the success he made of his second career, the energy with
which he threw himself into school life, the wonder is that
he waited so long. With typical professionalism, Selby takes
himself off to Leeds University for a Postgraduate Certificate
of Education, a rewarding experience about which he
contributes a valuable chapter on the psychology of learning.
At Shrewsbury he finds the community promised in the title,
and, as David Gee does in his recently published history, he
responds warmly to the corporate spirit of the place, “joining
in” with all the gusto of someone half his age. One of the last
of the “Form Masters”, he laments the demise of that role,
for which he would have spoken up, given the chance. As
another who went down with that particular ship, I second
his sentiments concerning the educational value of the form
system, while recognising the pressures which led to every
subject being taught in a different set.
Selby also writes of his involvement in games, his work with
beekeeping (still going!) and above all of his long association
with Michael Hall and the Basic Year. His affinity with the
outdoor life extends to his readiness to “rough it” for a
fortnight on annual Camp in Wales, where his contribution
was immense.
That he had made the right decision, as far as one can ever
judge these things, is never in doubt, though he ends with
a moment of wistful questioning. He found his niche in
Shrewsbury, the town, as well as the School, for he has been
an active member of the Civic Society. He can be a doughty
campaigner for what he believes is right, fashionable or not.
A chapter on changes at Shrewsbury since he retired
identifies some trends which do not meet with his approval
and with the honesty which has characterised this whole
endeavour, he is not afraid to say so. Do not, however,
expect to read here a disgruntled veteran sounding off from
the sidelines. Selby makes clear his appreciation of “a great
institution”, about which he cares.
Scholar, diplomat, educator, campaigner, Selby Martin is
himself something of an institution. His autobiography tells
of a man of high principles, who minds about etiquette, who
believes in the notion of service and who has lived out his
belief. His autobiography, written entirely without vanity,
charts the life of a good citizen, whose example will endure.