Martin Strawson's Memorial Website

It’s not one specific moment that exemplified Martin for me. It was more a constant barrage of his very special personality and intellect that rarely stopped (except perhaps when he slept). We always used to talk about politics, religion, and our views on the rights and wrongs of the world. He never spoke quietly so sometimes we’d be on a bus or in the street in the midst of a particularly ‘geeky’conversation and I’d be conscious of the funny looks people were giving us. There was never a dull moment and he rarely minced his words.

He loved getting to know people of all types but he’d always express our joint prejudices about them once they were out of earshot (or sometimes within earshot with the way his voice carried). He would always encapsulate what I was thinking so well and this was one of his great strengths, to form such unique bonds with each of his friends. He was so interested in what all his friends were getting up to and he’d remember some little anecdote about something in my life that I’d forgotten years ago. I’d have to watch what I said because it would never be forgotten and could be quoted verbatim for years to come.

We met at the Guild in Birmingham and had a whole year of student politics, plotting and intrigue. Looking back we were definitely allies and nothing used to wind us up more than when religious groups had more influence then we thought they deserved. Martin was a strong atheist and humanist with a very strong moral compass and his passion was really something to behold. I think I will miss that more than anything. Oliver Chapman

I lived with Martin in my final year at Birmingham along with Amy, Katherine and Michael. Martin was an excellent housemate and we all had a lot of fun. I remember that we cooked and ate together a lot during the year and that I think that we were all good friends to each other. We’d all spent the previous year abroad and so we’d had that shared experience. Martin was great support as we were both studying biology. He would certainly motivate me because not only did he put the hours of study in, every time he asked what I thought about a subject I didn’t know anything about, or had sometimes never even heard of, it would make me realise I needed to work a whole lot harder. It was intellectually stimulating to discuss what we were studying (and a lot more besides) with him and he was generous with his time. Martin did used to worry that he wouldn’t do very well. Secretly we all knew that if he didn’t do extremely well then we would all be failing and, as the university would surely not let all its year abroad students fail, we would be ok.

There were also a lot of laughs; and Martin really enjoyed telling the stories in the years since and I didn’t tire of hearing them. I still smile if I think about him coming across Katherine trying to sneak many mugs back into the kitchen from her bedroom but the crockery noises giving her away. This was in clear violation of the flat’s one mug per person per day policy. Another time I came across Martin rolling around on the floor laughing and unable to speak when he discovered that the reason his food wouldn’t fit in the fridge was that one of my enormous Tupperware boxes was filling up one shelf yet all that was in it was the smallest centimetre of Cheddar cheese. We also had many discussions of the benefits or otherwise of Martin’s ‘spares policy’ which meant he couldn’t rest if there wasn’t one whole unopened jar of any particular item in the kitchen. He could always see the funny side of his habits and it helped me to see the funny side of mine.

One particular story, which I hope readers will understand is not intended to make Martin look dumb (we all know this isn’t true!) but I’m including because Martin used to love telling it runs as follows:

One night in the early hours, Martin got up out of bed but turned right instead of left. Instead of the bathroom door he got to my door which I had locked from the inside. I woke up to hear a lot of commotion and Martin shouting “Why won’t this door open?” and trying really hard to break off the handle. Apparently I simply replied “Because it’s my room” and went back to sleep (I have virtually no memory of this). Martin loved this story and never minded being self-deprecating about how one so bright could also, on occasion, be a little absent minded.

The last time I saw Martin was at his 30^th birthday party where he was really happy and surrounded by many many friends from all the various places he had lived. I will remember him like this. Caroline Rogers

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