In memory of Mr. George Weys: 06 (London)

The SOAS Chinese Section had a tradition of throwing a farewell party for the final year students every year after their final exams were over— but before the results.

The lecturers would take turns in hosting another one at home.

At the departmental party, I found myself standing next to Mr. Weys.  He asked if I was feeling relieved now that the exams were over.  I said, “No, I’m actually terribly worried.  The Japanese unseen-text paper was a killer: one passage was on Buddhism, one was on philosophy, one was on literature.  I was guessing like mad, and changing and re-changing my mind.  The Tippex [whiting-out liquid] was so thick it got too lumpy to write on the same spot, I had to write above or below!”

In those days, we didn’t do modules with tests at regular intervals spread out over the year, every year.  We had one end-of-first-year exam, to show that we could carry on with the subject for the rest of the course (the next three years in my case).  Once we passed that first-year exam, we would carry on exam-free until Year 4. 

The condition was that we had to pass every single category:  Major, Minor, Special Subject.  If you failed any of the three categories, even if by only one mark, you wouldn't get your degree.  I think this was to stop students focusing on their strong category/categories and letting their good marks in those categories pull up the final overall mark.  That would make sense for an all-rounder education.  It was this proviso that was making me so nervous after that Japanese unseen-text paper with the Buddhism, Philosophy and Literature passages.

Mr. Weys excused himself and left the party room.  A few minutes later, he returned, “I’ve just gone to the departmental office and looked in my pigeon hole, in case Professor O’Neill, who’s the first marker, has done his marking and passed it on to me, the second marker.  He has, and I’ve had a quick look at your script.  According to Professor O’Neill’s marking, you’re OK.  So, nothing to worry about.”  I was able to enjoy the rest of the party.  Bless him.

A week later, we went to the second party hosted by Dr. Paul Thompson at his house.  When Mr. Weys arrived, he came and sat next to me in the garden, “You know you were so worried about your Japanese Unseen paper, and I told you that you were OK, according to Professor O’Neill’s first marking?  Well, I’ve since had a closer look at it, and I’m happy to tell you that you’re more than OK.”

(London, 1981)