When Authors Hide Secrets Part 1

Christopher Fowler
e3a60c5a4df6ef43559731936c2e12ae When I began writing 'The Book of Forgotten Authors', I quickly learned to decode newspaper articles about writers. There were men who were 'intensely private' and women who 'never married'. The words 'sapphic' and 'bachelor' tended to crop up, used knowingly. These writers were devoted to their mothers and never gave personal interviews. They lived alone and survived scandals that weren't detailed. But you can't always hide everything in your fiction. I could always tell a gay author from the writing. It was blazingly obvious that novelist Patrick Quentin was 'intensely private' when I read his thriller 'Puzzle For Puppets', in which two lines are spent describing the detective's wife and half a page is reserved for descriptions of the muscular marines in a San Francisco bathhouse. The actor-turned-writer Dirk Bogarde was famously 'private' in a time when the word was understood to be coded. For such an honest man - his many books are seamed with the frankest opinions - it is uncomfortable to be aware of his denials concerning his life-partner, Tony, but this has to be seen as an act of self-preservation. As a Rank star he made three films a year and became Britain's most popular actor at a time when the government was conducting a series of high profile gay prosecutions. He was intelligent enough to be careful, so no letters of any frankness survive. That was what gay writers did. They were also very good at denigrating themselves. Social pressure created shame and self-hatred that surfaced in writing. Quite a number of gay crime writers drafted effeminate men (or in 40's parlance 'swishes') into their fiction to provide local colour.
There's more uncoded gayness in old books than there are in movies. John Cleland's 'Fanny Hill' is racier than Lady Chatterly and features voyeurism, brothels, drag, self-pleasure and gay sex (the shock of seeing this causes Fanny to knock herself out), but the acts themselves are explicit and expressed in awestruck delight. But most gay writers kept a lid on it. Adam Martin de Hegedus had a secret; he came to London during the 1920s to write, but also because it allowed him the freedom to be gay. In Paris he befriended André Gide, but soon returned to London and settled for good. A melancholy, 'private' man, it's hard to say what made him take the extraordinary step of writing a gay novel fourteen years before homosexuality was decriminalised in Britain. The result was 'The Heart In Exile'. It remains an important volume, and is the only book for which he's remembered. Very little else is known about him. Five years after the book was published he committed suicide somewhere in the Marble Arch area. Perhaps we don't want to be reminded of the nation's sexually hypocritical class system, or the gruesomely depressing times when socially stigmatised 'inverts' were forced to lead a double life or risk blackmail. The first explicitly gay novel I read was Neville Jackson's 'No End To The Way', mainly because of its sexy cover of a man in bright yellow swimming trunks. The book had to be written under a pseudonym because it positively depicted a gay love affair, and was lightly based on Jackson's own life with his partner. 'No End To The Way' was published in the UK to critical acclaim, and is one of the few popular successes ever written in the second person. It was promptly banned in Australia, and couldn't be shipped over due to censorship laws, so the publishers, Corgi, chartered planes and flew copies in. It was harder to get to the truth about women writers because, to complicate matters, they were more fluid in their personal arrangements. But they often had a tougher time with critics who were quick to see lesbians as mannish man-haters. Joyce Porter penned some terrific murder mysteries using a male detective who was revolting and always ruined the investigation by picking the wrong murderer. Given the preponderance of her lesbian characters, Porter's mystery-shrouded private life and another series of novels featuring the butch Constance Burke and her female companion, one might draw conclusions about the author that provide her with a refreshingly unrosy view of the male psyche. Funnily enough, male critics were not at all keen on her. Similarly, the prolific and often hilarious Gladys Mitchell (whose Mrs Brady novels are better than Miss Marple's) was a schoolteacher who believed in the ideal of the professional, progressive, blunt-spoken Sapphic woman. Her title character was controversial and emancipated, and even considered murder justifiable if the occasion demanded. With such an outspoken heroine, Mitchell naturally made enemies. The Spectator described her as 'a tiresome old trout' whose mannerisms were the most trying in detective fiction, but many (myself included) were delighted to discover her work.    


Brooke (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 15:32

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

When asked if a character was gay, Bob Newhart responded, " I don't know and he is too much of a gentleman to discuss it." As a reader, do I really care about an author's private life? Unfortunately, and often to our detriment, agents, publishers and book sellers do. Artists who are not "of the mainstream" and who have something real to say learn subterfuge--i.e. Chester Himes working to get Yesterday Will Make You Cry (aka Cast the First Stone) published.

Re: two lines describing the protagonist's wife and half a page on the bathhouse scene. Isn't that just poor writing and bad faith with the reader, namely a break in plot line or character to insert soft pornography? I suppose it helps sales? Straight writers do the same. Once I catch on, I simply don't bother with that author (or authors in the Puzzle stories) anymore.

I too like Mitchell's Mrs. Brady; Mitchell is a solid writer but her plots have the flaw so prevalent in Christie; the rabbit-out-of-the-hat ending.

Speaking of AC, have you abandoned your burlesque of DB-the well-known typist?

Nonie (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 16:06

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I haven't read any Gladys Mitchell. I am running out the door to find some along with Porter. Looking forward to discovering new to me authors! Thank you!

Roger (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 17:58

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

Mrs (later Dame Beatrice) Bradley, actually.
Philip Larkin was a fan.

Denise Treadwell (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 21:07

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I have read Dirk Bogarde's biographies. I wouldn't mind being called ' a tiresome old trout '.

Brooke (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 21:50

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

@Roger. Thanks for correction; too early in the morning to catch the error.

Jenna Caine (not verified) Sun, 21/01/2018 - 23:18

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I always find it fascinating when other people talk about the sexual preference of either writers/actors and their subject material in terms of their perception or enjoyment of said. .Personally I couldn't give a flying monkey about the author/actors personal proclivities - that's their business, not mine. So long as their job in hand intrigues/engages/fascinates me then i'm in and will attempt to follow it to the conclusion. Anything other than that strikes me as ill informed judging.....and on a personal level, i'm in no position to to do that. Each to their own and live and let live.

Cathy Adamson (not verified) Mon, 22/01/2018 - 10:19

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I too love Gladys Mitchell - her plots can be Byzantine and strange,but are always interesting. She does sometimes let you know fairly early on who is the murderer, however..

Ed B (not verified) Tue, 23/01/2018 - 03:09

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I clicked on your link for Dirk Bogarde and found a clip you posted back on Nov '16; it was the confrontation scene from "The Victim" . It was great that You Tube followed it up with the full movie. Consequently. I was glued to my PC for the next hour and 1/2 or so. Dinner Prep was late of course. What a movie! Thank goodness those fears are gone forever, WE HOPE.

Helen Martin (not verified) Fri, 26/01/2018 - 23:37

In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)

I used to say that I didn't care about the private lives of authors and actors. What part of "private" does one not get? If the author has had 6 marriages and treated each spouse badly it goes a long way to explain his/her rather strong language describing that other. (Pretentious, but you see what I mean?) Actors are different because they are playing a part and therefore reflect that character's normal behaviour, but authors let their personal feelings wander all over their pages. I just finished reading Mab's Daughters about Shelley and his harem. I have every intention of going back and reading his poetry. He must have been totally mad and knowing about his attitudes will make a difference to how the poems read.