Stan the Man – Deep Thorkus

Are you all sitting cumftibold two-square on your botty? Then I’ll begin…

I have fond memories of watching (and listening) to the work of Mr Stanley Unwin. He was a very interesting entertainer, even though he only did one thing, which was to talk nonsense. So, although it’s not strictly a ‘word’ du jour, I thought I’d include a little fan piece of my own, as it’s my site and I can do what I like!

Anybody who grew up in the UK and is over about 30 years old is likely to have heard him, if not heard of him. He appeared on TV comedy shows, adverts for various things and on several albums – including the rather fab Small Faces’ 1967 piece of wacky psychedelia, Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake (more of which a bit later).

Unwin started his broadcasting career as a morse operator with the BBC, and by 1944 had joined the War reporting Unit, and was soon seconded to the US Third Army Press Camp, where he worked under General Patton. He spoke bery highly of Patton’s disdain for the more stupid questions set by press types – one response being that “Trying to do that would be like trying to fertilize a forty acre field with a fart.” Obviously, Patton was an alliteration fan too. He also referred to him, however as “Barsty horribold”, so their relationship may have been somewhat vexed.

His big break came when he was testing some equipment, and broadcaster F R Buckley came over and started an impromptu chat about an imaginary game called Fasche. When the mic was handed to Unwin, he carried on ad libbing in his Unwinese. This casual exchange was enhanced by the BBC with some sound effects and was broadcast. Unwin got his first fan letter from none other than Joyce Grenfell. The rest, as they say, is history.

Enough of the life of the man – if you want the full low-down, I strongly urge you to visit this site, where you can not only read about him, but can access video and audio archives of his very English brand of insanity.

He attribute the beginnings of Unwinese to his mother, who is said to have told him that she had “falolloped over and grazed her kneeclappers”, and also via telling stories to his children who – far from recognizing genius when they heard it – told him to “do it properly”. However it really began it matters not. His language is somthing which has stuck with me for life. From his signature “deep joy – oh yes” to his less comprehensible ramblings, he has yet to fail to make me smile. Sadly, Unwin died in 2002, but his epitaph tells you all you need to know: Reunitey in the heavenly-bode. Deep joy.

My all-time favourite has to be his work with the Small Faces on the Ogdens’ album. Side two was a six-song ‘concept’ piece, with a story (narrated by Unwin) as the link. This is an album you simply have to hear, and is still in the Top 100 UK albums of All Time – if that isn’t a recommendation, I don’t know what is. The narration during the final track (Happydaystoytown) is possibly the best, with Unwin mixing his own gobbledegook with 60s hipster-speak to create speeches such as:

So remember the very special words:
Happy day long toylytown newspaper readit and chuckly smilode.
They all have a lovely turn.
Gnomes came, Huckelberry fickel tickel my fingold,
heh, Boy Blue left his horn stuffin under the settee,
and brought his mellotrone, and freaked them all out.
Oh what a mindblast. Jacky Jill, knees up Mother Brodie.
Oh what a joy of a trickley howathere.
So I hope you’ll turn out three quarters half as lovely won’t you
wouldn’t half and enjoy it. Stay cool won’t you.

Couldn’t have put it better myself.