Marc Crewe Eulogy

Written by his many friends – delivered by Dougal Templeton, former Venue work colleague and friend of over 20 years, at Doc’s funeral on December 30 2008.

It’s an honour to be standing here delivering this eulogy. (Doc would love this). The sight of his accursed ex boss struggling to do him justice. Sweating. Desperate not to crack. I can just see his inimitable sneer at the naked emotion of it all – but secretly feeling immensely chuffed.

I have been given this honour because it was felt that I might be able to hold it together compared to those colleagues and friends at Venue who, in truth, were far closer to Doc than me: Dave, Julian, Claire, Euge and certainly Tom. It’s a measure of their love for the man that they, and many others, felt unable to stand up here for fear of breaking down and failing to do justice to a man who we all hold so dear to our hearts.

I have known Marc for nearly 25 years, from when he first joined Venue as a freelance muso hack, but have not seen much of him since leaving the fold a few years back. However, I did, thankfully, catch up with him on Friday at the Venue party. His rare – and perhaps prescient decision to attend – was one of the main reasons for me making it to my first Venue thrash in years. That and to make the point of introducing a good friend of mine, Ruth, who has just started working at Venue, to the great man himself. For reasons I still struggle to understand, I made a very specific point of telling Ruth that she must, must meet two people I love dearly at Venue. Euge and Doc. Of all the fantastic characters and weird and wonderfully exotic creatures who gather at the Venue watering hole, I really wanted Ruth to meet Doc. I made the introductions. They hit it off – I won’t tell you Doc’s whispered aside. I then sat with him for an hour catching up. He spoke at length of Lesley, his kids, his pride in his family. Realising how sentimental and maudlin we were in danger of becoming, his final words to me were: “Get me a drink, you fat bastard. And make it a large one…”.
I didn’t, of course. Why change the habit of a lifetime?

It was a classic Doc line reminiscent of when I first introduced my wife Claire to Doc 14 years ago – in the pub, naturally. I was fearful of how it might go. I loved him. We all loved him. But with Doc, you never knew how he would be taken. Claire made a good start, offering to buy him a drink. “A vodka and lime please..” “Oooh”, says Claire, “I haven’t heard that ordered since I was 14.“ I can’t repeat his spectacularly offensive response. After a horrible moment’s silence, they both burst out laughing. And have been firm friends ever since.

Claire loved the cantankerous, faux gruff ways of the man. In turns exasperated and enchanted by him. Like so many of us here. I would like to read out just some of the spontaneous tributes that have poured in to Venue since the terrible news spread. They, more than I ever can, capture the remarkable essence of the man:

Mike Gartside
Former Venue Contributor

Nearly three months late in getting my tribute in, but you might have expected that from me, Doc. You were a such an important person in my writing life – a role model and something of a mentor. I admired the fearlessness and elegance of your prose and the clarity of your thought process, quite apart from the killer wit that you displayed regularly.  Like so many others, I loved you to bits and miss you sorely.

Rebecca Dean
Former editor

There are so many things that cannot be said or printed but what I will say is that from the moment I met Doc as a work experience girl to my last day as editor, I always knew that I could rely on him to tell me the truth. Whether it was an opinion about my own writing or a comment about the cover, Doc never pulled any punches – a strangely scarce attribute that I've yet to find in anyone else I've worked with and one that I'll sorely miss. (That, and the incredibly inventive abusive language… I really missed the swearing when I left Venue.)

Simon Fry
Venue contributor

Doc was a very decent bloke to whom I owe a great deal. He was a pleasure to work under and I cannot remember him ever losing his temper.

Rosemary McDonald
Former Venue classified manager

He was a great curmudgeon with a really dry and grounded slant on life, and a wicked sense of humour and a good heart, which is why people loved him, for the character he was. Yesterday when I heard the news I really missed my Venue 'family', and wished I could have been there with you all to share in missing him and everyone's sorrow and comforting. He was one of the original Venue 'family', and he's going to leave a big hole in people's lives, not least his own family's.

Alex Reilly
Restaurant owner

Like I imagine most restaurateurs, I remember the first time I met Doc. It’s fairly safe to say I had built up a slightly different image of the man from Venue who clearly knew his onions. Doc was as unconventional as they came, a proper Venue hack who had a truly unique style of writing about food and engaging and entertaining his reader. Doc produced reviews that were precise, observational, always humorous and most importantly qualified. No one trick pony, he even demonstrated great flair for poetry. Who will forget his hilarious review of the Walrus and Carpenter? I was fortunate to share many a drunken mid-week evening with Doc. We talked shop for the first hour, me often the irritated restaurateur over something Venue had or hadn’t written, and him staunch defender of Venue and of his right to editorial freedom. We then spent the rest of the evening talking as friends. I’m going to miss those times as much as I’ll miss reading his reviews. He was a good friend and a great food reviewer.

Paul Riley
Venue classical editor

I know Doc wasn't exactly a candidate for the 1/2 marathon, but I somehow thought he was going to be one of those people who would defy logic and the health brigade and still be lifting a pint or galleon of red wine in his '70s.

Nige Tassell
Former Venue editor

Been thinking of him all day, remembering all the laughs we had in that little back office of ours. One of the sweetest, most genuine people I ever met.

Antonia Short
Former Venue contributor

Doc will always be a treasured soul - the fabric of Venue and Bristol and a huge part of all our lives in that he made them such a richer place to live.

Steve Henwood
Former Venue contributor

Doc reminds me of some classic sitcom character (yeah, well, a good sitcom) - the total curmudgeon who's the one character that everyonehas the most affection for when you ask them. Always made me laugh, anyway. I'll be dedicating some big drinks to him over the next few days

Ali Stevens
Former Folio editor

We have lost a close friend and a fantastic verbal sparring partner who was always faithful and fair. He was a very funny and clever man, and he’ll be very sadly missed.

Eugene Byrne
Fellow Venue legend

We were hugely lucky to know this Rabelasian slob who was a gold medallist at every conceivable manner of excess. From drinking through to the darkest, sickest humour, he could trump anyone. Wherever he is now, he would absolutely hate the idea of his passing being marked with some bland 'celebration' of his life. He detested platitudes and bullshit. Frankly he would want as many people as possible to be really pissed off that he's gone. No worries on that score. So long, Doc.

Tom Phillips
Venue acting editor

Doc’s rage against all things bland, clichéd or badly punctuated was beautiful, humane and inspiring. His passionate enthusiasms, limitless curiosity and astonishing memory for things he’d read or heard years back were equally so. It was like going on the town with the post-punk love-child of James Joyce and William S Burroughs. You might not remember much through the morning-after murk but life seemed a lot more interesting, bearable and sane.

Joe Spurgeon
Venue editor

Life doesn’t spew forth characters like Doc very often, and his absence will be felt for a long time. Gregarious, devil-witted, big-hearted, big-bellied. I shall miss him.

Julian Owen
Venue music editor

Doc’s cynicism was born of frustration, the black humoured frustration of a man with a deep and rare passion for life’s moments of beauty, railing against and never accepting why those moments had to be so fleeting. Still, the moments were many. Country walks with a pub in the middle, The Fall, Nick Cave, the richness of the English language and those who use it best … and above all - way and enduringly above all - Lesley, Tom, Joe and Rachel, to whom Doc’s beloved words will never be able to adequately express my sympathy.

For my part, the essence of the man was his totally contradictory nature. A seething mass of beguiling contradictions. At first baffling. But as you grew to know him well, so clearly the natural manifestations of a man at such pains to disguise his true nature: a soft, loving, loyal pussycat.

(God, Doc would hate that.)

On the one hand, an utter mess of a man – yet meticulous, precise, sharp

Disheveled, dissolute, dyspeptic – but utterly disciplined and professional with an unbelievable work ethic

So, so coarse – but who wrote with the beauty and grace of a God. One of the finest writers, never mind in Bristol, but in Britain.

So foul mouthed – but blessed with having the soul of the poet he was (tho the owners of the Walrus & Carpenter might not agree)

Cynical, curmudgeonly – yet affectionate and one of the most sensitive people for anyone in need.

Always affecting a scowl – with an unforgettable chuckle and magical smile

Contemptuous of authority and corporate bullshit – but unfailingly polite and respectful

Disdainful of the educated middle classes – yet so fiercely intelligent and well-read

Mr Angry – yet so full of love.

Dave Higgitt told me that whenever Doc was on the phone at work to Lesley, his whole demeanour and voice would change, to the tones of a man clearly in love.

I have so many fantastic memories of time spent with Doc: we all have. And no doubt we will be sharing some of those finer moments and bon mots in the more suitable environs of the pub afterwards. So many appalling incidents and anecdotes for one lifetime – legendary.

Doc was the conscience and independent heart and soul of Venue and above all, a loving and fiercely proud father and partner. Whatever the ups and downs of family life, Doc was never anything less than fiercely loyal and loving when it came to those at the centre of his world: Lesley, Rachel, Tom and Joe. We know too that he loved his parents – who he saw the week before he died – and that they were fond and proud of their wayward but brilliant son.

Yes, Marc Crewe was irritating, flawed, often in a dark place but so captivating, full of charm, true wit, wisdom, kindness, infinite passions and truly, truly a one-off. We will miss him – (slapped wrist for bland, clichéd sentiment – I like winding him up). But let’s not mourn his passing but, rather, celebrate our time shared with him, even if too brief. He lit up our lives, those of Venue’s readers, and we will all take a piece of him away with us and that is deserving of celebration. His exit has already changed the Venue workplace. Claire tells me people have been brought closer through their mourning, are more appreciative of their colleagues, more caring… I can see Doc’s scowl now. While being very chuffed with that legacy.

And then there is the deep and fitting irony in the fact that, for a man who hated parties and large social gathering, so many have turned up to salute the little gobshite.

Doc would love that…