Margaret Thompson interviews Alan Twigg for WordWorks: The Voice of British Columbia Writers, Winter/Spring 2010

WW: What moved you to write a book about the Woodcocks?

AT: They're inspirational. They affected millions of people's lives with their charities and they avoided all publicity for their good works. Little is known about their private lives, particular Ingeborg, and they were an extraordinary couple. They were so close, it was said, that when one of them breathed out, the other breathed in.
But that's the public answer. On a private level, this was also an opportunity for karmic payback. As a writer, as an autodidact, and as an independent thinker, George was an inspiration for how I live my life. He understood BC BookWorld from its outset. George also left me his signed first edition of Animal Farm, given to him by his friend George Orwell. And I still drive Ingeborg's little Toyota.

WW: George apparently attached some importance to posterity, but Ingeborg wouldn't let George even use her name in his autobiography! What difficulties did you encounter in researching their private life?
AT: Yes, Ingeborg was known to be fiercely private, and George was quite secretive. George Fetherling did a wonderful job outlining George's literary career and his anarchism in the biography, The Gentle Anarchist, but Ingeborg remained staunchly aloof. The solution was simply to collect some intimate information from their friends after they died. I never had any difficulties with Ingeborg, but many people were afraid of her while she was alive, hence I suspect Fetherling must have run into some brick walls.

WW: George was an anarchist, which is a term a lot of people may misinterpret. What were his beliefs, and how do you think he came to hold them so ardently?
AT: I genuinely can't begin to answer that question without saying a great deal. There is no pithy response that would be satisfying. I advise anyone to read George Fetherling's biography for the answers. Anarchism is a rich philosophy, grossly misunderstood. And George wrote some of the most important books on the subject.

WW: How did those principles play out in what you call "the Woodcockian model";, exemplified in both of the non-profit organizations the Woodcocks founded-the Tibetan Refugee Aid Society (TRAS) and the Canada India Village Aid Society (CIVA)?
WW: Decisions are usually made by consensus, not by voting. And hierarchies are to be avoided. The Woodcocks were also radically insistent that money for administration should be minimal. The Woodcocks opted out of TRAS after George had a heart attack but TRAS has admirably maintained their ideals for more than forty years. It's a success story that deserves to be told, even though I know people aren't going to want to read about do-gooders. Remarkably, Ingeborg and George continue to cast benevolent and wise shadows over both TRAS and CIVA.

WW: George Woodcock told you that he was the ideologue and Ingeborg was the organizer of what has been called "a tag team of activists."; How crucial was her role?
AT: Ingeborg was huge. That's really the gist of why I had to write this book. To emphasize her role as his partner. He was her baby. She protected him, but she was also his moralistic compass. George used to write for me, so I know he could fall prey to the petty vanities of writers. He was no saint. And so Ingeborg was his severe hausfrau conscience. George must have simultaneously resented to being married to Inge-as she was called-much of the time. It wasn't all peaches and cream. We had to sneak out of the house to take his photograph, for instance.

WW: You describe Inge's abrasiveness and relentless energy, and one of their friends talks of the "famous Woodcock ruthlessness at spotting people who could be exploited for good ends."; This sounds as if it might be counterproductive in fundraisers; how do you account for the loyalty of the exploited?
AT: Margaret, that's an excellent question! How do you account for people happily agreeing to be used? The people I talked to nearly all made jokes about it, after the fact, of course. Partly the reason would be that many of their friends and associates felt privileged to be in their company. Then again, they were hugely generous people. Abnormally generous-and childless. So they adopted people in much the same way that Ingeborg adopted raccoons. They welcomed strays. And, in the end, they donated almost $2 million to Canadian writers via the Writers Development Trust in Toronto. Two million bucks!

WW: Ingeborg obviously made a deep impression on all who knew her, yet she has almost no public face. Why was she so self-effacing?
AT: I've concluded there was guilt about being born German. She was briefly married to an Englishman and lived in England during the war, before she met George and they both went underground. She sometimes allowed it to be said she was born in Austria. That's part of it. The half of the answer is that she was greatly influenced by Tibetan Buddhism.

WW: The Woodcocks' efforts on behalf of Tibetan refugees and impoverished tribesmen in rural India were monumental-quite enough to fill several lifetimes-but George also wrote 150 books. Russell Wodell says, "Although every word of the books is George's, it was Inge who enabled him to write them."; Can you explain that?
AT: She kept the outside world at bay. She gave him the license to be a complete man of letters. Ever since they homesteaded in Sooke, she embraced the artist's life of risk-taking. The Woodcocks understood freedom beyond mere politics, I think. It's significant to note they were very close friends with the Shadbolts. They spent their Christmases together. Neither had children. In the way that Jack Shadbolt would never have become Jack Shadbolt without Doris, it was Inge who enabled George to have the freedom he needed.

WW: The long list of projects undertaken by TRAS and CIVA, and the accounts of the many people involved are classic illustrations of "paying forward."; Nor did it stop there. Tell us about the Woodcock Fund, and explain how this, too, grew from anarchist roots.
AT: I believe the Woodcock Fund to help Canadian writers in distress arose from their dire poverty in Sooke. They didn't have a pot to piss in. They almost starved. There's a wonderful story about how George was forced to go to his nearest neighbour and essentially beg for a bit of money. The woman, who was very poor herself, took down her cookie tin, or whatever it was, and shared her tiny cache with them. They never forgot that act of kindness. That's the gist of their mutual aid philosophy. By the time they met the Dalai Lama, it was George and Inge who were advising the young Tibetan leader, not the other way 'round. They were the ones with the cookie tin.

WW: I know you've written a whole book on the subject, so this is a bit of a tall order, but if you can sum it up in a few words, what is it about the Woodcocks that makes them so remarkable?
AT: They were both extremely hard workers. And their anarchism. George only voted once, I think it was. And they were downright odd. He never drove a car. She told pregnant women to their face that they shouldn't have babies. And they seriously believed in ghosts. They never traveled to Africa because George once had a dream that he would die in Africa. And of course they had this enduring relationship with the Dalai Lama. How can you not want to write a book that describes people like that?