In appearance, a combination of Karl Marx and Samuel Johnson, with thinning mid-brown hair--in two of his poems he refers to himself as "paunched and bespectacled" and "bulky ... bearded, myopic," Philip Hobsbaum exudes enormous energy and an almost magnetic vitality, especially when roused, as he often is, to discussion or argument. At such times he becomes oblivious to all else and, if he seems overbearing, patronizing, or arrogant, he can also be forgiven much for the sake of his enthusiasm, whether he is talking about the local opera house, praising one of his really good students, or reading aloud poems by Edwin Morgan that he admires. In conversation he will slip naturally from one voice to another with an actor's chameleon fluency, reminding one that, in addition to some amateur acting while at Cambridge, Hobsbaum is also a licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music (1956) and for a...