My thanks to Oliver and Brad whose recent mentions of the two books below prompted me to download them onto my kindle. Wonderful invention the kindle. I held out against it for years, but finally I cracked and bought myself one for Christmas. Amazing, a book title pops into your head and a minute later there it is on your kindle. As if by magic.
The Sins of Jack Saul by Glenn Chandler
Who was Jack Saul? Born into poverty in mid-19th-century Dublin, he went on to become a very successful 'renter' (rent boy to us). He had a pretty face, a quick mind and a large cock - all assets in his chosen profession. He sent money home to his mum like a good boy, but was not averse to dropping other people in it if it was to his advantage. He was no better than he should be. His claim to historical interest lies in his authorship of a work of gay erotica (The Sins of the Cities of the Plain) and his involvement in two gay scandals of the 1880s, one in Dublin and one in London. It's the latter which is best known today. When the upmarket gay brothel at 19 Cleveland Street in Fitzrovia was broken up, Members of Parliament, aristocrats and professional men of all shades, who had long availed themselves of its services, scattered in all directions, sometimes abroad. The establishment cover-up was a near-total success. Hardly any mention in the press and the only prison sentences, short ones, were handed out to a few of the boys. Saul was not prosecuted (he knew too much, as the saying goes) and ended his days in obscurity back in Dublin.
Chandler's book is a lively and informative read. The sheer scale of male prostitution in late-Victorian Britain always comes as a bit of a surprise. All those young men, on the streets, in more or less insalubrious bars and in tucked-away houses of ill-repute, 'looking for a lark with a willing gent.' Interesting to read how the infamous, gay-life-wrecking Labouchere amendment to the Criminal Law Amendment Act of 1885 was added almost as an afterthought and rushed through in a late-night sitting. The book has some charmingly quaint period touches. Here's a boy describing in court how a senior civil servant molested him in the Queen's Theatre in Dublin: 'He opened my trousers and he opened his own trousers. He took out his person and made me work it until his nature came from him. He tried to bring mine but it did not come.' Poor coy young lad! He was so disgusted that he went to see the civil servant on several more occasions.
The Glamour Boys by Chris Bryant
As an out gay MP, Chris Bryant was well placed to write this book which focuses on the previously untold story of the gay MPs, mainly Conservatives, who were prepared to rebel against the prevailing policy of appeasement of Hitler and Nazi Germany in the 1930s. Precise figures are impossible to come by, but Bryant estimates that at various times there were up to 40 rebels, about a third of them gay or bisexual. Many of them had made leisure trips, sometimes several, to Berlin, which in the 1920s and early-1930s was the most sexually open city in the world, where all tastes were catered for ('a pervert's paradise' according to a censorious Wyndham Lewis; 'Berlin meant boys' according to a delighted Isherwood and Auden). Bob Boothby loved it there and later recalled, 'As I was very good-looking in my twenties, I was chased all over the place, and rather enjoyed it.' Some of the gay MPs realised as early as 1932 that the Nazi Party was a force to be reckoned with in the future, with its thuggish stormtroopers and an agenda of resurgent militarism. Others took longer to see the danger, sometimes as a result of a visit to the concentration camp for 'undesirables' at Dachau, sometimes as a result of news of the persecution of gay or Jewish friends.
By 1938, when Chamberlain had become prime minister committed to the view that Hitler was the kind of rough-edged but basically reasonable dictator with whom he could do business over a nice cup of tea, tensions in Europe were transforming the rebels into a loose, unofficial group which held meetings in nearby private houses. It's rather amusing to think of bulldog Churchill, the de facto leader, deep in discussion with a lot of gay MPs. Fortunately, he took a relaxed view of what people got up to in the privacy of their bedrooms. Chamberlain became so irritated by the opposition of this group that he got his fixers to start using dirty tricks - phone tapping, threats of deselection, deliberate misinformation in the press. The derogatory term 'glamour boys' was coined at this time to suggest that some members of the group were vain, overly fastidious and effete, verging on effeminate. It took real courage to persist in the face of such pressures. When war finally broke out, many of the gay MPs volunteered to serve in the armed forces. Four of them died in action and now have plaques in their honour in the House of Commons behind the Speaker's Chair.
Bryant is very good on what it was like to be gay at that time. It was a world of 'clandestine liaisons and constant fear.' To be caught even in mild intimacy with another man ('gross indecency' was a loose term) could mean a prison sentence and social ostracism. There were undercover policemen to worry about and the threat of blackmail drove many to suicide. Marriages of convenience were common, entered into to allay suspicions. Things were a bit easier for those who moved in wealthy circles, where knowing repartee was allowed as long as it didn't become explicit avowal. When Somerset Maugham left one of Lady Emerald Cunard's dinner parties early, claiming 'I have to keep my youth', she promptly replied, 'Then why didn't you bring him with you?' Gays had their known meeting-places - certain bars, clubs, public toilets, parks near army barracks - but discretion was vital. One exception was the many Turkish baths in London, where the writ of the Metropolitan Police did not run (they were under LCC control). Private overnight rooms could be hired where much intermingling took place. The American actor Robert Hutton arrived in London shortly after the war: 'The next three weeks came as near killing me as the war ever had... I slept for a week in a Turkish bath, which meant, virtually, that I did not sleep at all.'
Bryant's book is entertaining, appalling and inspiring by turns. Lots of previously unpublished material, lots of anecdotes. The tone is measured and responsible, so that, for instance, he doesn't make wild claims about the gay rebel MPs being a sort of advance guard of Gay Lib. They had no such thoughts and were often troubled in themselves and at times far from heroic. It cannot be easy to write what is in effect a group biography, but Bryant handles the material well. It occasionally gets confusing as a result of his strange insistence on using first names much of the time, but that's just a quibble. I can recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the subject matter and period.
