It has been said that it is as difficult to write good prose as it is to be a good man. J. P. de Fonseka could do both. It was his fundamental goodness that made him a precious friend to so many. He seemed to me utterly incapable of spite, pettiness, envy, malice or un-charitableness. J. P. was always a gentle Knight of the Pen. If any of his critics thought his style was too Chestertonian, they also had to admit that it lost nothing of its charm on that account.
I am not competent to assess the value of his copious expositions of the doctrines of the Catholic Church. But no discerning editor could ever reject any biographical sketch, essay or poem that had the genuine “J. P. de Fons” touch. Humour worthy of the best known contributors to “Punch” some of whom were his friends, was combined in his writing with all the graces and the broad humanity that come from drinking deep at the springs of true culture.
Is this tribute enough? I fear not. Some of us who loved and esteemed him should select the best things he wrote and make a book of them. It should be an inspiration to the younger generation of Ceylonese with literary ambition.
In a country where coteries that encourage intellectual snobbery are easily forgotten it was refreshing to find a writer of J. P. de Fonseka’s stature and breadth of outlook so utterly simple, unaffected and tolerant. He could have shone as a brilliant wit in any circle he chose to adorn. But he preferred to talk to you about your family, your friends, your plans for the future and what you thought of the latest news. One could never imagine him talking for effect. And he was always a deeply interested and very sympathetic listener.
He had an infinite capacity for laughing at himself-particularly at his great girth and other caricaturable features. He shared many jests, with Chesterton, E. V. Lucas, A. P. Herbert-and even Bernard Shaw. There was delightful documentary evidence in his little house off Havelock Road of these intimate contacts with the famous.
He and I had great fun exchanging light verse and attempts at epigrams about each other’s achievements or weaknesses.
Ceylon’s journalists have lost a friend who, though he was a learned Professor and much else that was distinguished, was proud to be regarded as a cheerful worker in the Street of Ink.
Let us briefly review the contents of the full and happy life of this great and good man. Outshining nearly every other student at St. Joseph’s College in his day and being cricket captain as well; obtaining the highest University degrees; becoming an advocate, but refusing to practise as he much preferred to teach and write; on friendly terms with famous literary men in England; editing Chesterton anthologies; a Papal Chamberlain and Honorary Oblate of Mary Immaculate; a Professor of English; a Doctor of Letters – and above all a true friend; a large-hearted man and one who indeed filled a large place in our cultural life. We should not willingly let his memory die.
(From the “Ceylon Fortnightly Review”)
Hilaire Jansz
Date unknown