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Contents

TitlePageCopyrightNotice

DedicationAcknowledgments

ChapterOneChapterTwoChapterThreeChapterFourChapterFiveChapterSixChapterSevenChapterEightChapterNineChapterTen

ChapterElevenChapterTwelveChapterThirteenChapterFourteenChapterFifteenChapterSixteen

BooksbyChristopherIsherwoodCopyright

TODONBACHARDY

MYTHANKS

tomybrotherRichardandtoDonBachardy,forthehelptheygavemewhileIwaswritingthisbook;toJohnLehmann,StephenSpender,andEdwardUpward,forlettingmequotefromtheir

letterstome;toProfessorEdwardMendelson,literaryexecutoroftheestateofW.H.Auden,forlettingmequotefromAuden’sunpublishedwritings;totheProvostandScholarsofKing’sCollege,Cambridge,forlettingmequotefromE.M.Forster’s

letterstome;toP.N.Furbank,Forster’sbiographer,foransweringmyquestionsabouthim;toRudolphAmendt,for

answeringmyquestionsaboutpre-HitlerBerlin;toWernerandSusanneRosenstock,forgivingmeinformationaboutthelifeofWilfridIsrael;toBabetteDeutsch,forpermissiontoquotefromhertranslationofIlyaEhrenburg’spoem“TheSonsofOurSons,”

includedinATreasuryofRussianVerse,editedbyAvrahmYarmolinskyC.I.July1976

ONE

ThereisabookcalledLionsandShadows,published in1938,whichdescribesChristopherIsherwood’slifebetweentheagesofseventeenandtwenty-four.Itisnot trulyautobiographical,however.Theauthorconceals important factsabouthimself. He overdramatizes many episodes and gives his characters fictitiousnames.Inaforeword,hesuggeststhatLionsandShadowsshouldbereadasifitwereanovel.

ThebookIamnowgoingtowritewillbeasfrankandfactualasIcanmakeit,especiallyasfarasImyselfamconcerned.Itwillthereforebeadifferentkindof book from Lions and Shadows and not, strictly speaking, a sequel to it.However, I shall begin at the pointwhere the earlier book ends: twenty-four-year-old Christopher’s departure from England on March 14, 1929, to visitBerlinforthefirsttimeinhislife.

Christopher had been urged to come to Berlin by his friend and formerschoolmate Wystan Hugh Auden—who is called Hugh Weston in Lions andShadows. Wystan, then aged twenty-two, had been on a study holiday inGermanysincetakinghisdegreeatOxford.

While inBerlin,Wystanhadmet theanthropologist JohnLayard—BarnardinLionsandShadows.LayardhadoncebeenapatientandpupilofHomerLane,theAmericanpsychologist.Hehad introducedWystan toLane’s revolutionaryteachings,thusinspiringhimtousethemasaframeofreferenceforhispoems.Wystanhadnowbeguntowritelineswhichareliketheslogansofapsychiatricdictatorabout toseizecontrolof thehumanrace:“Publisheachhealer…It istime for thedestructionof error…Prohibit sharply the rehearsed response…Harrowthehouseofthedead…Thegameisupforyouandfortheothers…Love…needsdeath…deathof theoldgang…Newstylesofarchitecture,achangeofheart.”

AccordingtoLane-Layard:

Thereisonlyonesin:disobediencetotheinnerlawofourownnature.Thisdisobedienceisthefault

ofthosewhoteachus,aschildren,tocontrolGod(ourdesires)insteadofgivingHimroomtogrow.ThewholeproblemistofindoutwhichisGodandwhichistheDevil.AndtheonesureguideisthatGod appears always unreasonable, while the Devil appears always to be noble and right. GodappearsunreasonablebecauseHehasbeenput inprisonanddrivenwild.TheDevil is consciouscontrol,andis,therefore,reasonableandsane.

Life-shaking words! When Christopher heard them, he was even moreexcitedthanWystanhadbeen,fortheyjustifiedachangeinhisownlifewhichhehadbeenlongingbutnotquitedaringtomake.Nowheburnedtoput themintopractice,tounchainhisdesiresandhurlreasonandsanityintoprison.

However,whenLionsandShadowssuggeststhatChristopher’schiefmotiveforgoingtoBerlinwasthathewantedtomeetLayard,it isavoidingthetruth.Hedid lookforward tomeetingLayard,but thatwasn’twhyhewas insuchahurrytomakethisjourney.ItwasBerlinitselfhewashungrytomeet;theBerlinWystanhadpromisedhim.ToChristopher,BerlinmeantBoys.

At school, Christopher had fallen in love with many boys and beenyearningly romanticabout them.Atcollegehehadat lastmanaged toget intobedwithone.Thiswasdueentirely to the initiativeofhispartner,who,whenChristopherbecamescaredandstartedtoraiseobjections,lockedthedoor,andsatdownfirmlyonChristopher’slap.Iamstillgratefultohim.Ihopeheisaliveandmayhappentoreadtheselines.

Other experiences followed, all of them enjoyable but none entirelysatisfying.ThiswasbecauseChristopherwassufferingfromaninhibition,thennotunusualamongupper-classhomosexuals;hecouldn’t relaxsexuallywithamemberofhisownclassornation.Heneededaworking-classforeigner.Hehadbecomeclearly awareof thiswhenhewent toGermany inMay1928, to staywithanelderlycousinwhowas theBritishconsul atBremen.Hehadno loveadventureswhilethere,buthelookedaroundhimandsawwhathewasmissing.The Bremen trip isn’t even mentioned in Lions and Shadows becauseChristopherwasthenunwillingtodiscussitssexualsignificance.Itisdescribedinanovelwrittenmanyyears later,DownThereonaVisit,butwith toomuchfictionandtoolittlefrankness.

*

Christopher’sfirstvisit toBerlinwasshort—aweekor tendays—butthatwassufficient;Inowrecognizeitasoneofthedecisiveeventsofmylife.Icanstillmake myself faintly feel the delicious nausea of initiation terror whichChristopherfeltasWystanpushedbacktheheavyleatherdoorcurtainofaboybar called the Cosy Corner and led the way inside. In the autumn of 1928,Christopherhadfeltadifferentkindofnauseatedexcitement,equallystrongandmemorable,when,asamedicalstudent,hehadenteredanoperating theater inSt.Thomas’sHospital towatchhisfirstsurgicaloperation.But thedoorof theoperating theater,unlike thatof theCosyCorner, ledhimnowhere.Withinsixmonths,hehadgivenupmedicinealtogether.

AttheCosyCorner,ChristophermetayouthwhomIshallcallBubi(Baby).That was his nickname among his friends, because he had a pretty face,appealingblueeyes,goldenblondhair,andabodywhichwassmooth-skinnedand almost hairless, althoughhard andmuscular.On seeingBubi,Christopherexperiencedinstantinfatuation.Thiswasn’tsurprising;tobeinfatuatedwaswhathehadcometoBerlinfor.BubiwasthefirstpresentablecandidatewhoappearedtoclaimtheleadingroleinChristopher’slovemyth.

Whatwasthisrole?Mostimportantly,BubihadtobetheGermanBoy,therepresentative of his race. (Bubi was actually Czech, but that could beoverlookedsinceGermanwastheonlylanguagehespoke.)ByembracingBubi,Christopher could hold in his arms the whole mystery-magic of foreignness,Germanness.BymeansofBubi,hecouldfallinlovewithandpossesstheentirenation.

That Bubi was a blondwas also very important—and notmerely becauseblondnessisacharacteristicfeatureoftheGermanBoy.TheBlond—nomatterof what nationality—had been a magical figure for Christopher from hischildhoodandwouldcontinuetobesoformanyyears.AndyetIfindithardtosaywhy…JohnLayardwouldhaveencouragedme to inventanexplanation,never mind how absurd it sounded. He would have said that anything oneinventsaboutoneselfispartofone’spersonalmythandthereforetrue.Sohereis

thefirstexplanationwhichoccurs tome:Christopherchosetoidentifyhimselfwith a black-haired British ancestor and to see the Blond as the invaderwhocomesfromanotherlandtoconquerandrapehim.ThustheBlondbecomesthemasculineforeignyangmatingwithChristopher’s femininenativeyin…Thismakes a kind of Jungian sense—but I can’t by any stretch of the imaginationapply it to the relationsbetweenBubi andChristopher.Bubihadbeen, amongother things, a boxer, so he must have been capable of aggression. But withChristopherhewasgentle,considerate,almosttoopolite.

InadditiontobeingabletoplaytheGermanBoyandtheBlond,Bubihadarole which he had created for himself; he was the Wanderer, the Lost Boy,homeless,penniless,dreamilypassiveyet tough,carelessofdanger, indifferentto hardship, roaming the earth. This was how Bubi saw himself and how hemadeChristopherandmanyothersseehim.Bubi’svulnerability,combinedwithhistoughindependence,waspowerfullyattractiveandatthesametimeteasing.Youlongedtoprotecthim,buthedidn’tneedyou.Ordidhe?Youlongedtohelphim,buthewouldn’taccepthelp.Orwouldhe?Wystanwasn’tatallimpressedbyBubi’s performance as theWanderer.Yet, largely to pleaseChristopher, hewroteabeautifulpoemaboutBubi,“ThisLovedOne.”

ThroughoutChristopher’s stay inBerlin,Bubi spent a fewhourswith himeveryday.ForChristopher, thiswasaperiodof ecstasy, sentimentality,worry,hope, and clock-watching, every instant of it essentially painful. ChristopherwantedtokeepBubialltohimselfforever,topossesshimutterly,andheknewthat this was impossible and absurd. If he had been a savage, hemight havesolved theproblembyeatingBubi—formagical,notgastronomic, reasons.AsforBubihimself,hewasthemostobligingofcompanions;buttherewasnothinghecoulddo,inbedoroutofit,tomakeChristopherfeelanymoresecure.

TheywentshoppingtogetherandboughtBubismallpresents,mostlyshirts,socks, and ties; he refused to letChristopher be extravagant. They atewienerschnitzelsandwhipped-creamdessertsatrestaurants.Theywenttothezoo,rodetherollercoasteratLunaPark,andswamintheWellenbad,ahugeindoorpoolwhichhadamechanismformakingwaves.Atthemovies,theysawPudovkin’sStormoverAsiaandPabst’sWedekindfilm,Pandora’sBox.

The latterwashighlyeducational entertainment forChristopher, asWystanunkindlypointedout,sinceitshowstheappallingconsequencesoftryingtoownsomeonewho isnaturallypromiscuous.Christopherdid indeedstart tomakeascene when Bubi broke a date with him. After being coached byWystan, hepainstakingly repeated a short speechwhich began:“Ich bin eifersuechtig” (Iam jealous). Bubi listened patiently. Perhaps he even sympathized withChristopher’sfeelings;forhehimself,asWystanfoundoutlater,hadaweaknessforwhores andwould pursue themdesperately, giving them all themoney hehad.Hethenansweredatsomelength,layinghishandonChristopher’sarmandspeaking inasoothing tone.ButChristopher’sGermanwasstill scantyandhecouldn’tunderstandwhateverliesBubiwastellinghim.

Allwas soon forgiven, of course.WhenChristopher left forLondon,Bubipulled a cheap gold-plated chain bracelet out of his pocket—probably anunwantedgift fromsomeadmirer—and fastened it aroundChristopher’swrist.ThisdelightedChristopher,notonlyasa love tokenbutalsoasabadgeofhisliberation;hestillregardedthewearingof jewelrybymenasadaringact,andthiswouldbeaconstantremindertohimthathewasnowoneofthefree.Whenhegothome,hedisplayedthebraceletchallengingly.Buthismother,Kathleen,wasn’t shocked,onlyvaguelypuzzled thathe shouldcare towearanything socommon.

DespitehispreoccupationwithBubi,ChristopherhadfoundthetimetoseeJohn Layard in Berlin. Under any other circumstances, he would have beenfascinated by Layard’s X-ray eyes, his mocking amusement, his stunningfrankness,andhis talkaboutLane.ButLayard’s theoryhadseemedacademic,justthen,comparedwithBubi’spractice.

However, thenext year, during avisit toEngland,ChristophermetLayardagain.TheybecamefriendsandLayardtaughthimagreatdeal.HeevencuredChristopher—or,rather,madehimcurehimself—ofanintimatephysicalshame.Christopherhadbeenashamedofthepatchofhairwhichhadsproutedoutofanoldacnescaronhisleftshoulderblade.Layardexplainedthatthiswasaconflictbetween instinct—the hairy left shoulder—and conscious control—the hairlessrightone.GodandtheDevilwereatitagain.“Yousee,yourinstinct’stryingto

get your animal nature out of jail, trying to force you to recognize it. So it’sgrowing fur! I like it, it’s beautiful!” And Layard actually kissed the hairyshoulder, to show he meant what he said. Christopher giggled withembarrassment.Butgradually,fromthatdayon,hestoppedbeingconsciousofthehair,evenwhenhehadhisshirtoffinpublic.

*

SoonaftergettingbackfromBerlin,Christopherhadamorethanusuallysevereattackoftonsillitis.Inthosedays,hewassubjecttosorethroats.Wystancalledthem“theliar’squinsy”andremindedhimthatLanehadsaidtheyaresymptomsofabasicuntruthfulnessinone’slife.Christopherwasquitewillingtoadmitthathis life in England was basically untruthful, since it conformed outwardly tostandards of respectabilitywhich he inwardly rejected and despised.ButLanehad also said, “Every disease is a cure, if we know how to take it,” andChristopherwasnowsurethatheknewhowtomakehislifetruthfulagain.HestudiedGermanhard—fromHugo’sGermaninThreeMonthswithoutaMaster.HewrotelettersinGermantoBubi,whichBubiansweredwithtactfulrequestsformoney.And,assoonashecouldaffordthetrip,hewentbacktoGermany.ThiswasinearlyJuly.

Wystan was now at a village called Rothehuette in the Harz Mountains,surrounded by forests. The air smelled of resin and echoed romanticallywithjanglingcowbells.At theendof theday,when thecowscamedown from thehighpastures into thevillage, theywould separate from theherdof their ownaccord and find theirways to their respective farms. Itwas easy topretend toyourselfthattheywerehumanbeingsbewitched,forthewholeplacecouldhavebeenasettingforoneofGrimm’sfairytales,exceptthatithadarailwaystation.

Wystanwas staying at the innwith a cheerful, good-natured youth he hadbroughtwithhimfromBerlin.Hehadalreadymadehimselfcompletelyathome.Hisroomwaslikeeveryotherroomhehadeverlivedin,achaosofbooksandmanuscripts; he was reading and writing with his usual impatient energy. HewelcomedChristopherasonewelcomesaguesttoone’shousehold;hehadtheairofowningthevillageandthevillagers.Certainlyhemusthavebeenthechief

topic of their conversation. He entertained them by thumping out GermanpopularsongsandEnglishhymntunesonapianointherefreshmentroomoftherailwaystationandintriguedthembywrestlingnakedwithhisfriendinanearbymeadow.

AtChristopher’srequest,WystanhadphonedBubiinBerlinandtoldhimtocomeandjointhemthedayafterChristopherarrived.Buttwodayspassedandhe didn’t appear. Christopher became frantic. He decided to go to Berlin andlookforBubi.TohelpChristopherinhissearch,WystangavehimtheaddressofanEnglishmanheknewthere,namedFrancis.AndFrancisdidhelp,bycomingwithhimtotheCosyCornerandotherbarsandtranslatingwhenhequestionedboyswhoknewBubi.ThusChristopherfoundoutthatBubiwaswantedbythepoliceandthathehaddisappeared.

SoChristopher returnedmournfully toRothehuette.And, the next day, thepolicearrived.TheymusthavebeentippedoffbysomebodyinoneoftheBerlinbars thatBubimightbeexpected to joinChristopherat thismountainhideout.While the police were questioning him and Wystan, a letter was handed toChristopher by the innkeeper. It had a Dutch stamp on it. It was from Bubi.Christopherreaditundertheirverynoses.BubiwrotethathewasinAmsterdamand about to ship out as a deck hand on a boat to South America. CouldChristophersendhimsomemoneyasquicklyaspossible,posterestante?Bubiaddedthathewasn’tgivingtheaddresswherehewasstayingbecausehewasinHolland illegally and this letter might fall into the wrong hands. As for themoney, Bubi had sworn to himself never to ask for any more, becauseChristopher had been so generous already. But now here he was, amongststrangers,allalone.Therewasnoonehecouldtrustinthewholeworld.ExceptChristopher, his last dear true friend … The letter thrilled Christopherunspeakably. As he read, he began to feel that he himself had become anhonorarymemberofthecriminalclass.Nowhemustbeworthyoftheoccasion.Hemustrespondrecklessly.HemustleaveforAmsterdamatonceandseeBubibeforehesailed.

Meanwhile, the police, not wanting to go away empty-handed, werecheckinguponWystan’sfriend.Theyaskedforhis identitypapers—and,alas,

hispaperswerenotinorder.(Boyswouldsay,“Mypapersaren’tinorder,”and“My stomach isn’t in order,” in the same plaintive tone, as though bothwereailments.)Thepolicesoonmadehimadmitthathewasafugitivefromareformschool.Thentheytookhimoffwiththem.

As soon as they were gone, Christopher showed Wystan the letter andWystan agreed to come to Amsterdam too, although hewasn’t feeling kindlytowardBubi,whowasindirectlytoblameforhisfriend’sarrest.WhentheyleftRothehuette, the innkeeperwasstill friendly,despite thescandalofhavinghadthepoliceonhispremises.HesaidtoWystan,withatolerantgrin,“IexpectalotofthingshappeninBerlinwhichwewouldn’tunderstand.”

InAmsterdam,theyranintoBubialmostatonce;hewasgoingintothepostofficetoseeifChristopherhadsenthimaletter.Bubi’sastonishmentanddelightwere all thatChristopher hadhoped for.Evenmoregratifying, after their firstjoyful embraces, was his sudden sadness: “We have so little time left, to betogether.”Bubiwasa trueGerman inhisenjoymentofemotionalpartings.HeturnedthisshortreunionwithChristopherintoacontinuousfarewell;theywentforfarewellwalks,atefarewellmeals,drankfarewelltoasts,madefarewelllove.Then the day came for Bubi’s ship to sail. His eyes brimmed with tears ofheartfeltpityfor the lonelyWanderer,ashewrungChristopher’sandWystan’shands,saying,“Whoknowsifweshallevermeetagain!”

(They did meet again, many times, in many different places. WhenChristophernextsawBubihewasinBerlin,aboutthreeyearslater.ChristopherfounditveryoddtobeabletochatterawaytohiminGerman—oddandalittlesaddening,because thecollapseof their languagebarrierhadburied themagicimageof theGermanBoy.Bubi seemedanentirelydifferentperson,notatallvulnerable, amusingly sly. Christopher felt wonderfully at ease with him andabsolutelyuninfatuated.)

*

Christopher and Wystan stayed on an extra day in Amsterdam, beforeChristopherwentbacktoEngland.Theywerebothinthehighestspirits.Itwassuchareliefandhappinesstobealonewitheachother.Theytookatripthrough

the canals and the harbor in a tourist launch, deep in an exchange of privatejargonand jokes,barelyconsciousof their surroundings.Ondisembarking, allthe passengers were asked to sign a guest book. Beside their two signatures,Wystan wrote a quotation from Ilya Ehrenburg’s poem about the RussianRevolution:

Readaboutusandmarvel!Youdidnotliveinourtime—besorry!

*

InAugust,Christopher leftLondon for a remote seasidevillagewherehehadbeen engaged to tutor a small boy or at least keep him occupied during hisschool holidays. While Christopher was there, he had his first—and last—completesexexperiencewithawoman.Afterdark,inthattinyplace,therewasnothing social to do but play cards, get drunk, ormake love.Theywere bothdrunk.Shewasfiveorsixyearsolderthanhewas,easygoing,stylish,humorous.Shehadbeenmarried.Shelikedsexbutwasn’t in the leastdesperate toget it.Hestartedkissingherwithoutbotheringaboutwhatitmightleadto.Whensheresponded,hewassurprisedandamusedtofindhoweasilyhecouldrelatehisusualholdsandmovementstothisunusualpartner.Hefeltcuriosityandthefunofplayinganewgame.Healsofeltalustwhichwaslargelynarcissistic;shehadtoldhimhowattractivehewasandnowhewasexcitedbyhimselfmakinglovetoher.Butplentyofheterosexualswouldadmittofeelingthatwaysometimes.Whatmatteredwasthathewasgenuinelyaroused.Aftertheirorgasm,heurgedhertocometohisroom,wheretheycouldtakealltheirclothesoffandcontinueindefinitely.Shewouldn’tdothisbecauseshewasnowsoberingupandgettingworriedthattheymightbecaughttogether.Nextday,shesaid,“Icouldtellthatyou’vehadalotofwomenthroughyourhands.”

Whatdidallthisprove?Thathehadgainedenormouslyinself-confidence.That sex, as sex, was becoming more natural to him—in the sense thatswimmingisnaturalwhenyouknowhowtoswimandthesituationdemandsit.ThisheowedtoBubi.

Heaskedhimself:DoInowwanttogotobedwithmorewomenandgirls?Of coursenot, as long as I canhaveboys.Whydo I prefer boys?Becauseoftheir shapeand theirvoicesand their smelland theway theymove.Andboyscanberomantic.Icanputthemintomymythandfallinlovewiththem.Girlscan be absolutely beautiful but never romantic. In fact, their utter lack ofromanceiswhatIfindmostlikableaboutthem.They’resosensible.

Couldn’tyougetyourselfexcitedbytheshapeofgirls,too—ifyouworkedhard at it? Perhaps.And couldn’t you invent anothermyth—to put girls into?WhythehellshouldI?Well,itwouldbealotmoreconvenientforyou,ifyoudid.Thenyouwouldn’thavealltheseproblems.Societywouldacceptyou.Youwouldn’tbeoutofstepwithnearlyeverybodyelse.

Itwas at this point in his self-examination thatChristopherwouldbecomesuddenly,blindlyfurious.DamnNearlyEverybody.Girlsarewhatthestateandthe church and the law and the press and themedical profession endorse, andcommandmetodesire.Mymotherendorsesthem,too.Sheissilentlybrutishlywillingmetogetmarriedandbreedgrandchildrenforher.HerwillisthewillofNearlyEverybody,andintheirwillismydeath.Mywillistoliveaccordingtomynature,andtofindaplacewhereIcanbewhatIam…ButI’lladmitthis—evenifmynaturewereliketheirs,Ishouldstillhavetofightthem,inonewayoranother.Ifboysdidn’texist,Ishouldhavetoinventthem.

PsychologistsmightfindChristopher’sadmissiondamagingtohiscase,andhis violence highly suspicious. They might accuse him of repressedheterosexuality.Wystansometimeshalfjokinglydidthis,tellingChristopherthathe wasmerely “a heter with good taste,” and expressing fears that he wouldsoonerorlaterdefect.Nearlyfiftyyearshavepassed,sincethen;andWystan’sfearshavebeenprovedgroundless.

*

WystanwasnowbackinEngland.Soonhewouldstartworkasaschoolmaster.BubiwassomewhereinSouthAmerica;heneverwrote.LayardhadleftBerlin.OnNovember 29,Christopher set out on his third visit toGermany that year.Only,thistime,hewasn’tputtinganylimitsonhisstay.Thismightevenbecome

animmigration.WhentheGermanpassportofficialaskedhimthepurposeofhisjourney,hecouldhavetruthfullyreplied,“I’mlookingformyhomelandandI’vecometofindoutifthisisit.”

*

On themorningafterhisarrival,hewent tocallonFrancis,whowasnowtheonlyEnglish-speakingpersonheknewinBerlin.FrancislivedonastreetcalledIndenZelten.IthadaviewacrosstheTiergartenpark.Asthehugehousedoorboomedshutbehindhim,Christopherranupstairswithhischaracteristicnervoushastetothesecondorthirdfloor—Inowforgetwhichitwas—andrang.

ThedooroftheapartmentflewopenandFrancisappeared,tousled,furious,one hand clutching the folds of his crimson silk robe. Instantly he startedscreaminginGerman.Christopherunderstoodthelanguagebetternow;heknewthathewasbeingtoldtogoawayandnevercomebackorFranciswouldcallthepolice.The screaming ended and the doorwas slammed in his face.He stoodstaring at it, too astonished to move. Then he shouted, “Francis—it’s me,Christopher!”

The door reopened andFrancis reappeared. “I say, how awful ofme! Idoapologize!Ifeltcertainyoumustbetheboywhocamehomewithmelastnight.Just because Iwas drunk, he thought he could steal everything in the place. Icaughthimatitandthrewhimout…Butyoudon’tevenlooklikehim…Why,Iknowyou,don’tI?”

“Iwas over here in the summer, looking for someone.Youwere so kind,takingmeroundthebars.Asamatteroffact,I’vejustgotbackfromEngland—”

“Won’tyoucomein?I’mafraidthisplaceisinanawfulmess.I’mneverupattheunearthlyhourtheywanttocleanit.IsthisyourfirstvisittoBerlin?”

“Well,no—Itoldyou,Iwashereinthesummer—”“Do forgiveme, lovey—mymind’s a total blank before I’ve had lunch. I

supposeyouwouldn’tcaretohavelunchhere,wouldyou?Oristhatmorethanyoucanface?”

WhatChristopherwas being asked to facewas the ordeal of having lunch

withthestaffandsomeofthepatientsofDr.MagnusHirschfeld’sInstitutfuerSexual-Wissenschaft—Institute for Sexual Science—which occupied theadjoiningbuilding.AsisterofDr.HirschfeldlivedinthisapartmentandletouttwoofitsroomstoFrancis.Itsohappenedthatshehadathirdroomwhichwasvacantjustthenandwhichshechargedlessfor,becauseitwassmallanddark.Bythetimelunchwasover,Christopherhaddecidedtomoveintoit.

TWO

ThebuildingwhichwasnowoccupiedbytheHirschfeldInstitutehadbelonged,at the turn of the century, to the famous violinist Joseph Joachim; its publicrooms still had an atmosphere which Christopher somehow associated withJoachim’s hero, Brahms. Their furniturewas classic, pillared, garlanded, theirmarblemassive,theircurtainssolemnlysculpted,theirengravingsgrave.Lunchwasamealofdecorumandgracioussmiles,presidedoverbyasweetlydignifiedladywith silver hair: a living guarantee that sex, in this sanctuary,was beingtreatedwithseriousness.Howcoulditnotbe?OvertheentrancetotheInstitutewasaninscriptioninLatinwhichmeant:SacredtoLoveandtoSorrow.

Dr.Hirschfeldseldomatewiththem.HewasrepresentedbyKarlGiese,hissecretaryandlong-timelover.Alsopresentwerethedoctorsofthestaffandthepatients or guests, whichever you chose to call them, hiding their individualproblemsbehindsilenceorpolitetablechatter,accordingtotheirtemperaments.I remember the shock with which Christopher first realized that one of theapparently female guests was a man. He had pictured transvestites as loud,screaming,willfullyunnaturalcreatures.Thisoneseemedasquietlynaturalasananimalandhisdisguisewasacceptedbyeveryoneelseasamatterofcourse.Christopherhadbeentellinghimselfthathehadrejectedrespectabilityandthathe now regarded it with amused contempt. But the Hirschfeld kind ofrespectabilitydisturbedhislatentpuritanism.Duringthoseearlydays,hefoundlunchattheInstituteabituncanny.

Christopher giggled nervously when Karl Giese and Francis took himthrough the Institute’s museum. Here were whips and chains and tortureinstruments designed for the practitioners of pleasure-pain; high-heeled,intricatelydecoratedbootsforthefetishists;lacyfemaleundieswhichhadbeenworn by ferociouslymasculine Prussian officers beneath their uniforms. Herewerethelowerhalvesoftrouserlegswithelasticbandstoholdtheminpositionbetweenkneeandankle.Intheseandnothingelsebutanovercoatandapairofshoes,youcouldwalkthestreetsandseemfullyclothed,givingacamera-quick

exposurewheneverasuitableviewerappeared.Here were fantasy pictures, drawn and painted by Hirschfeld’s patients.

Scenesfromthecourtofapriapickingwhosprawledonathronewithhisownphallusforascepterandwatchedthegrotesquematingsofhiscourtiers.Strangesadbedroomscenesinwhichthefacesofthecopulatorsexpressedonlydismayand agony. And here was a gallery of photographs, ranging in subject matterfromthesexualorgansofquasi-hermaphroditestofamoushomosexualcouples—WildewithAlfredDouglas,WhitmanwithPeterDoyle,Ludwig ofBavariawithKainz,EdwardCarpenterwithGeorgeMerrill.

Christopher giggled because he was embarrassed. He was embarrassedbecause,atlast,hewasbeingbroughtfacetofacewithhistribe.Uptonow,hehadbehavedas though the tribedidn’texistandhomosexualitywereaprivatewayoflifediscoveredbyhimselfandafewfriends.Hehadalwaysknown,ofcourse,thatthiswasn’ttrue.Butnowhewasforcedtoadmitkinshipwiththesefreakishfellowtribesmenandtheirdistastefulcustoms.Andhedidn’tlikeit.HisfirstreactionwastoblametheInstitute.Hesaidtohimself:Howcantheytakethisstuffsoseriously?

Then,oneafternoon,AndréGidepaidthemavisit.HewastakenonatourofthepremisespersonallyconductedbyHirschfeld.Liveexhibitswereintroduced,withsuchcommentsas:“Intergrade.ThirdDivision.”Oneofthesewasayoungmanwhoopenedhisshirtwithamodestsmiletodisplaytwoperfectlyformedfemale breasts. Gide looked on, making a minimum of polite comment,judiciously fingering his chin. He was in full costume as the Great FrenchNovelist, complete with cape. No doubt he thought Hirschfeld’s performancehopelesslycrudeandun-French.Christopher’sGallophobiaflaredup.Sneering,culture-conceitedfrog!SuddenlyhelovedHirschfeld—atwhomhehimselfhadbeensneering,amomentbefore—thesillysolemnoldprofessorwithhisdoggymustache, thick peering spectacles, and clumsy German-Jewish boots …Nevertheless,theywereallthreeofthemonthesameside,whetherChristopherlikeditornot.Andlaterhewouldlearntohonorthemboth,asheroicleadersofhistribe.

*

WhenHirschfeldfoundedtheInstitutein1919,hewasjustoverfiftyyearsoldand notorious all overWestern Europe as a leading expert on homosexuality.Thousands ofmembers of theThirdSex, as he called it, looked up to him astheirchampionbecause,throughouthisadultlife,hehadbeencampaigningforrevisionofParagraph175of theGermanCriminalCode.Thisparagraphdealtwiththepunishmentofhomosexualactsbetweenmen.(Bynotincludinglesbianacts, it expressed a basic contempt for womenwhich has been shared by thelawmakersofmanyothernations.)

When young, Hirschfeld had been a middle-of-the-road socialist. Now hewas being drawn into alliance with the Communists. This was because theSovietgovernment,whenitcameintopowerin1917,haddeclaredthatallformsof sexual intercourse between consenting individuals are a private matter,outsidethelaw.TheGermanCommunistParty,ofcourse,tookthesamestand.TheemergingNaziParty,ontheotherhand,wasannouncingthatitwouldstampout homosexuality because “Germany must be virile if we are to fight forsurvival.”Hitlerdenouncedhomosexuals,leftists,andJewsastraitorswhohadunderminedGermany’swilltoresistandcausedthemilitarydefeatof1918.

Hirschfeld was a representative of all three groups. While lecturing inMunich in1920,hewasbeatenupbyNazi-inspiredmembersofhisaudience.Characteristically,hereturnedtoMunichnextyearandgotbeatenupagain;thistimehisskullwasfracturedandhewasleftfordead.But1922foundhimstillunliquidatedand incombat.Hewasevenallowed topresent thegrievancesoftheThirdSexinaspeechtosomemembersoftheReichstag.Tobesometimestreatedwithofficial respect,sometimes threatenedwithdeath; tobealternatelypraisedandlampoonedbythepress;tobehelpedbythosewhowouldlaterlosetheirnerveandbetrayhim—suchwashisnoblyinsecureposition.

TheInstitutewasbynomeansexclusivelyconcernedwithhomosexuality.Itgave advice to couples about tomarry, based on research into their hereditarybackgrounds. It offered psychiatric treatment for impotence and otherpsychological problems. It had a clinic which dealt with a variety of cases,

includingvenerealdisease.Anditstudiedsexineverymanifestation.However,theexistenceoftheInstitutedidenableHirschfeldtocarryonhis

campaign against Paragraph 175muchmore effectively than before. It was avisible guarantee of his scientific respectabilitywhich reassured the timid andtheconservative.Itwasaplaceofeducationfor thepublic, its lawmakers,andits police. Hirschfeld could invite them to the sex museum and guide themthroughasuccessionofreactions—fromincredulousdisgusttounderstandingoftheneed forpenal reform.Meanwhile, the Institute’s legaldepartment advisedmenwhowereaccusedofsexcrimesandrepresentedthemincourt.Hirschfeldhadwontherighttogivethemasylumuntiltheircaseswereheard.SomeofthepeopleChristophermetatlunchbelongedtothiscategory.

(IhaveamemoryofChristopherlookingdownfromaroomintheInstituteand watching two obvious plainclothes detectives lurk under the trees whichgrowalongtheedgeofthepark.TheyhopethatoneoftheirwantedvictimswillbetemptedtoventureoutofHirschfeld’ssanctuaryforasniffoffreshair.Then,accordingtotherulesofthepolicegame,hecanbegrabbedandcarriedofftoprison.)

TheyearChristopherarrivedattheInstitute,Hirschfeldandhisalliesseemedabout towin a victory.Earlier in 1929, theReichstagCommittee had finisheddraftingapenal-reformbill.Accordingtothisbill,consensualsexactsbetweenadultmaleswouldnolongerbecrimes.Thevotewhichdecidedthispointhadbeen close and it had only beenwon through the support of theCommunists.ThebillhadbeenpresentedtotheReichstagandseemedlikelytobepassedintolaw.Then, inOctober, came theU.S.StockMarket crash, causingaperiodofpanic and indecision inEuropewhichwasunfavorable to reformof anykind.TheReichstagpostponeddiscussionofthebillindefinitely.

*

Christopher’sroom,likethetworoomsoccupiedbyFrancis,wasjustinsidethefrontdooroftheapartment.Youandyourvisitorscouldcomeandgoatanyhourwithouteverrunningintothelandlady;nodoubt,shetactfullyusedarearexit.Shelivedfarawayattheback,somewhere,withinaclearinginaBlackForestof

furniture. If sex-connected sounds did reach her now and then, she nevercomplained.Perhapssheevenapprovedofthem,onprinciple.Afterall,shewasHirschfeld’ssister.

Francis’sroomshadaviewofthepark.Christopher’sroomlookeddownintoaninteriorcourtyard; thatwaswhyitwasdarkandcheap.Ononewallof thiscourtyard,Hirschfeld had caused to be printed inGothic lettering a stanza byGoethe:

SeeledesMenschen,WiegleichstdudemWasser!SchicksaldesMenschen,WiegleichstdudemWind!

SpiritofMan,howlikethouarttowater!FateofMan,howlikethouarttowind! Never before in his life had Christopher had a room with a view of apoem.Inhispresentstateofmind,hemuchpreferredhisviewtoFrancis’sviewoftheTiergartentrees.Justaschangesinthelightmaketreeslookdifferent,soChristopher’svaryingmoodsmade thepoemspeak indifferent tonesofvoice:joyful,cynical,tragic.Butalways,whateverhismood,itremindedhim:YouareinGermany.The featurelesswallsof thecourtyard, theneutralpuddlesof rainwateronitsfloor,thepatchofinternationalskyaboveit—allweremadeutterlyGermanbythepresenceoftheseGermanwords.

Monthslater,whenChristopherbegangivingEnglishlessons,hewouldtryto convey to his German pupils something of his own mystique about theGerman language. “A tabledoesn’tmean ‘einTisch’—whenyou’re learninganewword,youmustneversaytoyourselfitmeans.That’saltogetherthewrongapproach.Whatyoumustsaytoyourselfis:OverthereinEngland,theyhaveathingcalleda table.Wemaygo toEnglandand lookat itandsay, ‘That’sourTisch.’Butit isn’t.Theresemblanceisonlyonthesurface.Thetwothingsareessentially different, because they’ve been thought about differently by twonations with different cultures. If you can grasp the fact that that thing inEngland isn’t merely called a table, it really is a table, then you’ll begin tounderstandwhattheEnglishthemselvesarelike.Theyarethesortofpeoplewho

arecompelledbytheirnaturetothinkaboutthatthingasatable;beingwhattheyare,theycouldn’tpossiblycallitanythingelse…Ofcourse,ifyoucaredtobuyatablewhileyouwereinEnglandandbringitbackhere,itwouldbecomeeinTisch.Butnot immediately.Germanswouldhaveto thinkabout itaseinTischandcalliteinTischforquitealongwhile,first.”

WhenChristopher talked like this,most of his pupilswould smile, findinghimcharminglywhimsicalandsoEnglish.Onlyafewdecidedthathewasbeingmetaphysical and therefore listenedwith respect. Having listened, theywouldquestionhimandthenargue,takinghisstatementswithabsoluteliteralness,untilhebecametiredandtongue-tied.

Howcouldhepossiblyexplainhimselftothesepeople?TheywantedtolearnEnglishforshow-offsocialreasons,ortobeabletoreadAldousHuxleyintheoriginal.WhereashehadlearnedGermansimplyandsolelytobeabletotalktohis sex partners. For him, the entire German language—all the way from thekeep-off-the-grass signs in the park to Goethe’s stanza on the wall—wasirradiatedwith sex.Forhim, thedifferencebetweena table andeinTisch wasthat a tablewas the dining table in hismother’s house and ein Tisch was einTischintheCosyCorner.

*

Christopherhadmadeuphismind that as soonashewas settled inBerlinhewouldstartrevisinghisnovel,TheMemorial.Hehadfinishedthefirstdraftofitaboutsixmonthsbeforethis.Sincethen,hehadscarcelylookedatit.

Sonow,everymorning,withhismanuscriptunderhisarm,hewalkedalongIndenZeltenandsatdowninoneofitscafés;indoorsiftheweatherwascoldorwet, out of doors in his overcoat if it wasmild. He didn’t come heremerelybecausetheroominhisapartmentwasdark.Toworkinthispublicatmosphereseemedbettersuitedtohisnewwayoflife.HewantedtobeinconstantcontactwithGermansandGermanythroughouttheday,notshutupalone.

With his manuscript in front of him, a tall glass of beer on his right, acigaretteburninginanashtrayonhisleft,hesippedandwrote,puffedandwrote.Thebeer,ofcourse,wasGerman:Schultheiss-Patzenhofer.Thecigarettewasa

Turkish-grown brand especially popular in Berlin: Salem Aleikum. Bubi hadintroducedhimtoboth,so the tasteof theoneandthesmellof theotherweremagicallycharged.Andhowstrangeanddelightfulitwastobesittinghere,withTurkishsmoketicklinghisnostrilsandGermanbeerfaintlybitteronhistongue,writing a story in theEnglish language about anEnglish family in anEnglishcountryhouse!Itwasmostunlikelythatanyofthepeopleherewouldbeabletounderstand what he was writing. This gave him a soothing sense of privacy,whichthenoiseoftheirtalkcouldn’tseriouslydisturb;itwasonadifferentwavelength.Withthemaroundhim,itwasactuallyeasiertoconcentratethanwhenhewasbyhimself.Hewasaloneandyetnotalone.Hecouldmoveinandoutoftheirworldatwill.Hewasbeginningtorealizehowcompletelyathomeonecanbeasaforeigner.

The beer, taken in tiny doses, put Christopher into a state of graduallyincreasingrelaxationwhichhefoundhecouldsafelyprolongforabouttwoandahalfhours.All thiswhile,hispencilmovedoverthepaperwithlessandlessinhibition, fewer and fewer pauses.But then, somewhere in themiddle of thefourth glass, his attention lost its grip upon his theme. He wrote lines whichmade himgrin to himself, knowing, as he did so, that theywouldn’t seem soclever—maybenotcleveratall—whenherereadthemlater.Hewasgettingabitsilly.Hemuststop.Hepickeduphispapers,leftthemoneyforthewaiter,andwalkedslowlyhome,thinkingtohimself:Thisiswhatfreedomis.ThisishowIoughtalwaystohavelived.

*

AndnowhemustwakeFrancisandtellhimtodressforlunch.Francisseldomactually needed waking. Usually, Christopher would find him reading andsmoking, propped on pillows, on the outer side of his bed.On the inner side,snuggledagainstthewall,thebackoftheheadofaboywouldbevisible.Andsometimesanotherboywouldbeasleeponthecouch,underapileofcoatsandrugs.

When Christopher entered the bedroom, Francis would give him a faintlyembarrassedsmilewhichwaslikeahalfheartedapologyfortheuntidinessofthe

roomandofhis life.Christopherhadnowish tomakeFrancisfeelapologetic.Buthehadtoadmittohimselfthatthisdailyencounterdidmakehimfeelsmug.Hehadbeenworkingallmorning;Francishadn’t.

InDownThereonaVisit,FrancisappearsasacharactercalledAmbroseandisdescribedasfollows:

His figurewas slimand erect and therewas a boyishness in his quickmovements.But his dark-skinned facewas quite shockingly lined, as if Life hadmauled himwith its claws.His hair fellpicturesquelyabouthisfaceinwavyblacklockswhichwerealreadystreakedwithgrey.Therewasagentlesurpriseintheexpressionofhisdarkbrowneyes.Hecouldbecomefranticallynervousataninstant’snotice—Isawthat;withhissensitivenostrilsandfine-drawncheekbones,hehadthelookofahorsewhichmayboltwithoutwarning.Andyettherewasakindofinnercontemplativereposeinthemidstofhim.Itmadehimtouchinglybeautiful.Hecouldhaveposedfortheportraitofasaint.

This is true to life,moreor less, except for the last three sentences,whichrelateonlytothefictitiouspartofAmbrose.PhotographsofFrancisatthattimeshowthathewasbeautiful,certainly,butthathehadthefaceofaself-indulgentaristocrat,notacontemplativeascetic.Ican’tdetecttheinnerrepose.Hecouldbesurprisinglypatient,however;henevermindedbeingkeptwaitingifhehadadrink to wait with. He seemed almost unaware of discomfort. If anyonecomplainedofit,Franciswouldreprovehimmildlyforbeing“fussy.”Nowandthen,hehadtospendadayinbed;hewasaninvalid,thoughanincrediblytoughone. He was perhaps suffering from side effects of the treatment for syphiliswhich he was then undergoing at the Institute. This was a tedious process.Franciswaswearyof it, all themore sonow thathehadbeen toldhewasnolonger infectious.Thedoctorshadwarnedhimagainstgivingup the treatmentprematurely,butheprobablywould,assoonashe leftGermanyandstarted totravelincountrieswithfewermedicalconveniences.

It wasn’t long before Christopher realized that Francis harbored anaggression—usuallywellconcealedbutoccasionallyobvious—againstallthosewho had never had syphilis. He appeared to feel that it was their self-righteousnessandcowardicewhichhadpreventedthemfromhavingit,andthatthey therefore ought to have it, for the good of their souls. Perhaps, in hisfantasies,heevenimaginedhimselftrickingsuchpeopleintogoingtobedwith

infectedpartners.Theoretically, Christopher rather sympathized with this attitude. He saw

FrancisasanunwittingmissionaryofthegospelofHomerLane,tryingtoteachtheworldthatprophylaxisisoneoftheDevil’sdevices.Nevertheless,thoughheknewhewasbeingpriggishandsqueamish,Christopherbeggedtobeexcused;hedidwanttodefytheDevilbuthedidn’twanttodoitbygettingsyphilis, ifthat could possibly be avoided. Francis tolerated Christopher’s squeamishnessgood-humoredly.Nodoubt he felt confident that syphiliswould catchupwithChristophersoonerorlater,becauseofhissexualpromiscuity.

Theygotalongwelltogether.Francis’slifewassuchthatheseldomhadthechance of talking to a fellow countryman who was like-minded in manyrespects.Christopherwaseager toknoweverything thatFranciscould tellhimaboutBerlin, including theweird idioms ofBerlinerisch slang. Franciswasn’treally interested in Germany, however. He never felt truly at home, he said,exceptinthecountriesoftheEasternMediterranean.Itwastherethathecouldpull himself together and work. Christopher, who had seen him only in anatmosphere of disorder and self-indulgence, was surprised to discover that hehadaseriousprofession—although,admittedly,hepracticeditbyfitsandstarts.Hewasatrainedarchaeologist.HehaddirectedarchaeologicaldigsinPalestineandelsewhereandwrittenarticlesonhisfindingsforscientificjournals.FrancisknewavastamountaboutprehistoricGreece.Hespokeofitoften,withaquietunderstatedpassionwhichChristopherfoundcuriouslymoving.Itwasasifpartofhisminddweltcontinuallyinthatworld.

*

Astheshortwinterafternoonbegantodarken, theywouldvisitKarlGieseforcoffee and gossip. The atmosphere of Karl’s sitting room had none of theInstitute’snobleseriousness;itwasacozylittlenest,linedwithphotographsandsouvenirs.

Inrepose,Karl’slonghandsomefacewasmelancholy.Butsoonhewouldbegigglingandrollinghiseyes.Touchingthebackofhisheadwithhisfingertips,as if patting bobbed curls, he would strike an It-Girl pose. This dedicated,

earnest, intelligent campaigner for sexual freedom had an extraordinaryinnocence at suchmoments. Christopher saw in him the sturdy peasant youthwithagirl’sheartwho, longago,hadfallenin lovewithHirschfeld,hisfatherimage.KarlstillreferredtoHirschfeldas“Papa.”

HetoldChristopherthatallworking-classboyswhoarehomosexualhaveanaturalurge toget themselveseducated; therefore, theyhave to climb into themiddle class. This was what Karl had done. Christopher felt shocked by hisstatement and didn’twant to admit that itwas true.Why couldn’t aworking-classboybecomeeducatedwithoutacquiringbourgeoisairsandgraces? Ifhisnaturerequiredhimtobeaqueen,whycouldn’thebeaworking-classqueen?ThefactwasthatChristopher,theupper-classboy,wasnowtryingtodisownhisclass.Becausehehatedit,hedespisedthemiddleclassforapingitsways.Thatleft himwith nothing to admire but theworking class; so he declared it to beforthright, without frills, altogether on the path of truth. Karl had no suchillusions.

One of Karl’s friends—the one Christopher liked best—was not onlyhomosexual and fairly well educated but unashamedly proletarian. This wasErwin Hansen. He was a big muscular man with blond hair close-cropped,Army-style.HehadbeenagymnasticinstructorintheArmy;nowhedidvariousjobs around the Institute andwas running to fat.Hewas good-humored,withroughand readymanners andpale rovingblueeyes.Heused togrin sexily atChristopher and sometimes pinch his bottom. Erwin was a Communist, soperhapshisunbourgeoisbehaviorwasn’taltogetherspontaneousbutapartofhispoliticalpersona.

NearlyallthefriendswholookedinonKarlintheafternoonsweremiddle-classqueens.Theyhadaworldof theirownwhich includedclubsfordancinganddrinking.These clubswere governedby the codeof heterosexualmiddle-classpropriety.Iftwoboysweresittingtogetherandyouwantedtodancewithoneofthem,youbowedtobothbeforeasking,“MayI?”Then,if theboysaidyes,youbowedagaintotheotherboy,asthoughheweretheescortofagirlandhadjustgivenyouhispermissiontodancewithher.

SoonafterChristopher’sarrival,Karlhadgivenhimaphotographofhimself

onwhich he hadwritten: “From onewhowould like to be your friend.” Theinscriptionwasanappeal.Karlwanted towinChristopheraway,before itwastoolate,fromFrancis—whomheregarded,withsadaffection,asahopelesscase—and from what Francis represented: low life, drunkenness, scandals. KarlhopedtoconvertChristophertoawayoflifemoreworthyoftheThirdSexbyintroducinghimtosomeniceboywithsteadyhabitswhohadcleanfingernailsandworeacollarand tie.Christopherwas touchedbyKarl’sconcern forhim.HereallylikedKarl,andrespectedeverythingabouthimbuthisrespectability.

Liketheyoungmanwithfemalebreastsandeveryoneelsewhoenteredthedomain of the Institute, Christopher had automatically become a museumspecimen,subjecttoHirschfeld’sdiagnosisandclassification.Karltoldhim,induecourse,thatHirschfeldhadclassifiedhimas“infantile.”Christopherdidn’tobjecttothisepithet;heinterpreteditas“boyish.”Youcouldn’tcallhimaprettyboy—hishead andhis nosewere toobig—but hedid lookyoung for his age,withhisfreshpinkcomplexion,inheritedfromKathleen,brighteyes,andglossydark-brownhairfloppingdownoverhisrightcheek.Healsohadaboyishgrin,fullofcleanwhiteteeth.Farbettertobeboyish,hethought,thaneffeminate.HecouldneverjointheranksofKarl’sfriendsandplayatnicey-nicethird-sexism,because he refused utterly to think of himself as a queen.Wystan was muchmorematurethanChristopher,inthisrespect.Labelsdidn’tscarehim.

*

When night came,Christopherwas offwith Francis to the bars.Here Franciswas,ofcourse,awell-knownfigure.Theboys’versionofhisnamewasFranni.Andsince,inGerman,youcanputthedefinitearticlebeforeafriend’sname—thusmakingitintoatitlelikethatofasagahero—theyalsooftencalledFrancis“DerFranni,”TheFranni.ChristopherandWystananglicizedFranniintoFronnyin their letters to eachother.Thenameappears in several ofWystan’s poems,andtheFronnycharacterispresent,thoughunnamed,inthepublishedversionofThe Dance of Death. He is one of the roles mimed by the Dancer. As theparalyzed patron of a boy bar, he is wheeled onto the stage, makes his will,ordersdrinksallround,anddies.

In the bars,Christopher used to thinkofFrancis andhimself as being liketraderswhohadenteredajungle.Thenativesofthejunglesurroundedthem—childlike,curious,mistrustful,sly,easilyandunpredictablymovedtofriendshiporhostility.Thetwotradershadwhatthenativeswanted,money.Howmuchofit theywouldget andwhat theywouldhave todo toget itwas the subjectoftheir bargaining. The natives enjoyed bargaining for bargaining’s sake; thisFrancis understood profoundly. Hewas never in a hurry. Indeed, his patienceoutworetheirs.Francisboughtthemdrinksbutpromisednothing,andthenightgrewold. “I never get the really attractive ones,” he used to say. “The ones Ifinish up with are the ones who haven’t anywhere else to sleep.” Actually,Francis didn’t care who he finished up with; he wasn’t much interested inmaking love. What did fascinate him—and what began, more and more, tofascinateChristopher,lookingatitthroughFrancis’seyes—wastheboys’world,theirslang,theirquarrels,theirjokes,theiroutrageousunseriousdemands,theirgirls,theirthefts,theirencounterswiththepolice.

Dazedwithdrink, smiling tohimself, lighting cigarette after cigarettewithshaky hands, arguing obstinately with the boys about nothing in indistinctGerman,DerFrannimeanderedfrombartobar,waitingforthemomentwhenhewouldfeelreadytogohomeandsleep.ItwascharacteristicofChristopherthathewould accompany Francis every evening on his Journey to the End of theNight,yetalways leavehimone thirdof thewaythroughit,goinghomequitesoberatten,withorwithoutabedmate,soastowakeupfreshinthemorningtogetonwithhisnovel.Seldomhavewildoatsbeensownsoprudently.

*

ForChristopher, theCosyCornerwasnownolonger themysterioustempleofinitiation inwhich he hadmetBubi; Berlinwas no longer the fantasy city inwhich their affair had taken place. Their affair had been essentially a privateperformancewhichcouldonlycontinueaslongasWystanwaspresenttobeitsaudience.Nowtheperformancewasover.BerlinhadbecomearealcityandtheCosy Corner a real bar. He didn’t for one moment regret this. For now hisadventuresherewerereal,too;lessmagicalbutfarmoreinteresting.

TheCosyCorner(Zossenerstrasse7)andmostof theotherbarsfrequentedby Francis and Christopher were in Hallesches Tor, a working-class district.Suchplacesdependedontheirregularcustomers.Theyweresmallandhardtofind and couldn’t afford to advertise themselves, so casual visitors were few.Also,manyhomosexualsthoughtthemroughandfeltsaferinthehigh-classbarsoftheWestEnd,whichonlyadmittedboyswhowereneatlydressed.

IntheWestEndtherewerealsodensofpseudo-vicecateringtoheterosexualtourists. Here screaming boys in drag and monocled, Eton-cropped girls indinnerjacketsplay-actedthehighjinksofSodomandGomorrah,horrifyingtheonlookers and reassuring them that Berlin was still themost decadent city inEurope.(Wasn’tBerlin’sfamous“decadence”largelyacommercial“line”whichtheBerlinershad instinctivelydeveloped in theircompetitionwithParis?Parishad longsincecornered thestraightgirl-market, sowhatwas left forBerlin toofferitsvisitorsbutamasqueradeofperversions?)

TheBerlinpolice“tolerated”thebars.Nocustomerriskedarrestsimplyforbeing in them.When the barswere raided,which didn’t happen often, itwasonlytheboyswhowererequiredtoshowtheirpapers.Thosewhohadn’tanyorwerewantedforsomecrimewouldmakearushtoescapethroughabackdoororwindowasthepolicecamein.

NothingcouldhavelookedlessdecadentthantheCosyCorner.Itwasplainandhomelyandunpretentious. Itsonlydecorationswerea fewphotographsofboxersandracingcyclists,pinnedupabovethebar.Itwasheatedbyabigold-fashioned iron stove. Partly because of the great heat of this stove, partlybecause they knew it excited their clients (dieStubben), the boys stripped offtheirsweatersorleatherjacketsandsataroundwiththeirshirtsunbuttonedtothenavelandtheirsleevesrolleduptothearmpits.

They were all working class and nearly all out of work. If you chose todescribethemasmaleprostitutes(Pupenjungen)youhadtoaddthattheyweremostly rank amateurs, comparedwith themore professional boys of theWestEnd. They were greedy but not calculating, temperamentally unable to takethought for the morrow.When they stole they stole stupidly and got caught.Although itwouldhavebeen in theirown interests tohave theirclients fall in

lovewith them, they did nothing to encourage this. If youmooned over themthey became bored and soon began to avoid you. Beyond keeping their haircarefully combed, they showed few signs of vanity. They didn’t seem able topicturethemselvesasobjectsofdesire.Theirattitudewasanalmostindifferent“takemeorleaveme.”Theirchiefreasonforcomingtothebarswasofcoursetogetmoney,buttheyalsocamebecausethiswasaclubwheretheycouldmeetotherboysandgossipandplaycards.Often,ifyouwantedoneofthemtojoinyouatyourtable,hewouldtellyoutowaituntilhehadfinishedhisgame.

Christopher’s relations with many of the boys soon became easy andintimate.Perhapstheyrecognizedandweredrawntotheboyishnessinhim.Hefeltamarvelousfreedomintheircompany.He,whohadhintedandstammeredin English, could now ask straight out in German for what he wanted. Hislimited knowledge of the language forced him to be blunt and he wasn’tembarrassedtouttertheforeignsexwords,sincetheyhadnoassociationswithhislifeinEngland.

And what did he want? Hirschfeld had rightly called him infantile. Hewantedtogobackintotheworldofhisadolescentsexualityandreexperienceit,withouttheinhibitionswhichhadspoiledhispleasurethen.Atschool,theboysChristopher had desired had been as scared as himself of admitting to theirdesires. But now the innocent lust which had fired all that ass grabbing, armtwisting,sparringandwrestlinghalfnakedinthechangingroomcouldcomeoutstarknaked into theopenwithoutshameandbegratified in full.WhatexcitedChristopher most, a struggle which turned gradually into a sex act, seemedperfectly natural to these German boys; indeed, it excited them too. Maybebecauseitwassomethingyoucouldn’tdowithagirl,oranyhownotontermsofphysical equality; something which appealed to them as an expression ofaggression-attractionbetweenapairofmales.Maybe,also,suchmildlysadisticplaywasacharacteristicofGermansensuality;manyofthemlikedtobebeaten,nottoohard,withabeltstrap.Ofcourseitwouldneverhaveoccurredtoanyofthemtoworryaboutthepsychologicalsignificanceoftheirtastes.

This rough athletic sexmaking was excellent isometric exercise. Itstrengthened Christopher’s muscles more than all his years of joyless

compulsorygamesatschool.Hefeltgratefultohispartnersforhisnewstrength.Therewasmuchloveinhiscontactwiththeirsturdybodies;lovewhichmadenodemandsbeyondthepleasureofthemoment.

Christopherwasdelightedwithhiswayoflifeandwithhimselfforlivingit—somuch so that he became bumptious, and actually wrote to a woman heknewinEngland,tellingher:“IamdoingwhatHenryJameswouldhavedone,ifhe had had the guts.” The woman foolishly reported this statement toChristopher’sformerliterarymentor,anIrishauthoresswhohadbeenafriendofhis father, Frank, andwhom Frank had nicknamedVenus. (SeeKathleen andFrank.) Venus, a devout Jamesian, was not amused. She replied loftily:“Christopherhasbecomeeitherasillyyoungassoradirtyyoungdog,andIaminterestedinneitheranimal.”

Christopherwasn’tangrywithVenus—shesoonforgavehim—andhewasn’tintheleastabashedbyherrebuke.But,beforelong,hebegantofeelthathehaddone enough exploring of his rediscovered adolescence.What hewanted nowwasamoreseriousrelationship,expressedbyadifferentkindoflovemaking.

Sincehenolongerneededhisformersexpartners,hecouldaffordtoregardthemobjectively and tomoralize over them.Wasn’t it basicallywrong to hireother human beings to have sex with you? Weren’t you exploiting them,degradingthem?ChristopherhadfounditcharmingtowatchFrancisbargainingwith the natives of the jungle. Francis himself didn’t have the ugliness of anexploiter because his own state of degradation put him on a level with thenatives and made him sympathetically picturesque. But this was a colonialsituation, nevertheless. The behavior of many Cosy Corner clients was uglybecauseitwassentimental.Notcontentwithhiringtheboys’bodies—whichwasat least a straightforwardcommercial transaction—they sentimentallyexpectedgratitude, even love, thrown into the bargain. Not getting either, they turnednasty,calledtheboyswhoresandbegrudgedthemoneytheyhadspentonthem.Oneoftheleastsentimentaloftheclientsusedtotellastoryagainsthimself:Inthemidstofaquarrelwithaboy,hehadheardhimselfexclaim:“Idon’tgiveadamnaboutthemoney—it’syouIwant!”Hehadinvoluntarilysaidwhathehadbeenwishingtheboywouldsaytohim.

Therewasonethingtheboyshadtoofferthatveryfewclientswanted:theirfriendship.MostboysdreamedofaFriend—thatsacredGermanconcept.Thisfriendwouldhelpthemwithmoney,ofcourse,buthewouldalso—andthiswasfarmoreimportanttothem—offerthemseriousinterest,advice,encouragement.Sometimes,whenaclienthadshownhimunexpectedkindness,aboywouldputthisconceptintoawkwardwords.Theclientmightindulgehiminhisfriendshiptalk, but as one indulges a sufferer from a terminal illness. From the averageclient’s point of view, these boys had no future; therefore, one couldn’t allowoneselftocarewhatbecameofthem.

*

DuringtheChristmasseason,agreatcostumeballwasheldinoneofthedancehallsofIndenZelten:aballformen.Manyofthemworefemaleclothes.Therewasafamouscharacterwhohadinheritedawholewardrobeofbeautifulfamilyballgowns,seventyoreightyyearsold.Thesehewaswearingoutattherateofoneayear.Ateachball,heencouragedhisfriendstoriphisgownoffhisbodyinhandfulsuntilhehadnothingbutafewragstoreturnhomein.

Christopherwent to theballwithFrancis.Hehaddressedhimself in someclotheslenthimbyaboyfromtheCosyCorner—abigsweaterwithacollaranda pair of sailor’s bell-bottomed trousers. It gave him an erotic thrill tomasqueradethusashisownsexpartner.AlittlemakeupappliedbyFrancistookthenecessaryfiveyearsoffhisage;theeffectwassoconvincingthatafriendofKarlGiese,whodidn’tknowChristopher,laterprotestedtoKarlthatFrancishadreallygonetoofar—bringingacommonstreethustlerintothisrespectablesocialgathering.

Therespectabilityoftheballwasopentodoubt.Butitdidhaveonedazzlingguest:ConradVeidt.Thegreatfilmstarsatapartathisowntable,impeccableinevening tails.Hewatched thedancingbenevolently throughhismonocleashesipped champagne and smoked a cigarette in a long holder. He seemed asupernatural figure, the guardian god of these festivities, who was graciouslymanifestinghimselftohisdevotees.Afewfavoredonesapproachedandtalkedtohimbutwithoutpresumingtositdown.

Veidt had appeared in two films dealing with the problems of thehomosexual;hence theappropriatenessofhispresenceat thisball.ThefirstofthesefilmswasAndersalsdieAndern(DifferentfromtheOthers),producedin1919.PerformancesofithadoftenbeenbrokenupbytheNazis.InVienna,oneof themhad fired a revolver into the audience,wounding several people. Thesecondfilm,GesetzederLiebe(LawsofLove),wasproducedin1927.Thiswas,inmanyrespects,aremakeofAndersalsdieAndern.

Christopher had been shownone of these films at the Institute, or perhapsboth,Ican’tbesure.Threescenesremaininmymemory.Oneisaballatwhichthedancers,allmale,arestandingfullyclothedinwhatseemsabouttobecomeadaisychain. It ishere that thecharacterplayedbyVeidtmeets theblackmailerwho seduces and then ruins him. The next scene is a visionwhichVeidt has(whileinprison?)ofalongprocessionofkings,poets,scientists,philosophers,andotherfamousvictimsofhomophobia,movingslowlyandsadlywithheadsbowed.Eachof themcringes, in turn,ashepassesbeneathabanneronwhich“Paragraph175”isinscribed.Inthefinalscene,Dr.Hirschfeldhimselfappears.IthinkthecorpseofVeidt,whohascommittedsuicide,islyinginthebackground.Hirschfelddeliversaspeech—thatistosay,aseriesofsubtitles—appealingforjustice for the Third Sex. This is like the appearance of Dickens beside thecorpse of Jo, in Bleak House, to deliver the splendid diatribe which begins:“Dead,yourMajesty…”

*

EarlyintheNewYearof1930,FrancisleftBerlin,enrouteforwarmersouthernlands.SonowChristopherwasquitealonewiththeGermans.

THREE

OnFebruary6,1930,ChristopherwrotetoStephenSpender:

I’mveryapathetichere.It’sallsopleasantandIhaveutterlylostanysenseofstrangenessinbeingabroad.Ievendon’tparticularlycarewhenIseeEnglandagain.AndwhenIreadinmydiaryaboutmylifeathome,it’slikepeopleonthemoon.

Twoweekslater,hewasbackinLondon.ThecauseofhisunforeseenreturnwasHenryIsherwood,Christopher’selderuncle.Henrywastheonlymemberofthe familywhocouldbedescribedaswealthy;hehad inherited the Isherwoodestates and money when his father died in 1924. Soon after this event,ChristopherhaddecidedtobecomeUncleHenry’sfavoritenephew;andhehaddone so instantaneously, by making it clear to Henry that they had the samesexual nature. Henry’s brothers and sisters had always known about hishomosexuality and hadmade unkind jokes behind his back, ofwhich hewaswellaware.SoHenrywasdelightedtodiscoverabloodrelativewhosharedhistastes—using theslangexpressionsofhisgeneration,he referred tohimselfasbeing“musical”or“so.”

Once they had reached this understanding, it hadn’t been hard forChristophertointroduceabenevolentideaintoHenry’shead.SinceHenrywasseparatedfromhiswifeafterachildlessmarriage;since,asagoodCatholic,hecouldn’tremarry;since,beingwhathewas,hedidn’twantto;sincetheestateswere entailed and Christopher was the heir presumptive—why shouldn’tChristopher be given a small allowance now, at a time of lifewhen he reallyneededthemoney?

Christopher was proud of the diplomacy he had employed to achieve thisobjective.Heboastedof it to his friends.They enviedhimandweren’t in theleast shocked; inhis shoes, they said, theywouldhavedone the same thing. IsuspectthatHenrysawthroughChristopher’samateurmaneuversfromthestartandwasamusedby them.Whenyoung,hehimselfhadsqueezedmoney fromhisfatherateveryopportunity.

Christopher couldn’t have afforded to live in Berlin without Henry’sallowance.Henryhadpromised topay it every threemonths.ChristopherwasexpectedtoreciprocatebywritingtohimregularlyandbydiningwithhimwhentheywerebothinLondon.Writingtheletterswasawearytask,becauseHenryhadtobethankedforhisbountyoverandoveragain,andreassuredthathewasthe Model Uncle. The dinners were more fun, because you could get drunk.Henry demanded to be told every detail ofChristopher’s sex life;Christopherobliged, exaggerating wildly. Then Henry described his guardsmen and otherfavorites. “Oh, he’s what I call a tearer—a regular tearin’ bugger, don’t youknow?”Hehadoncepaidayoungmannottowashhimselfforamonth.“Attheendofthemonth,hecametoseemeandhesmeltexactlylikeafox!Delicious!”Henrywavedhisberingedhandsandutteredhisharshparrotlaugh.Christopherfoundhiscoarsenessbracingandsympathetic.ButHenrywasalsoasnobandaFascist.Headored the titled ladiesofRomansociety,amongstwhomhespentmost of the winter, and praised Mussolini for having made Italy morecomfortableforforeignvisitorslikehimself.Christopherhadtokeephismouthshut, project sparkling interest, and smile flatteringly at this aging beauty—itwasas ifhewereacourtierofQueenElizabethI.Andyet, fromtimeto time,despiteallChristopher’sefforts,Henrywouldcapriciouslyfailtopayup.Ashehadonthisoccasion.

ThusChristopherwas reminded that hewasn’t a free spirit, as he liked tothink,butacaptiveballoon.Comingdowntoearthwithahumiliatingbump,inanevilhumorandsufferingfromoneofhissorethroats,hefoundhimselfinthemidstofadomesticbattle.HisbrotherRichard,noweighteen,hadbeenmakingan attempt to assert himself and prove to their mother, Kathleen, that shecouldn’tgoon treatinghimasa schoolboy.Richard’sattemptwasclumsy—inordertoavoidbeingsentbacktothetutorwhowascramminghimforOxford,hehadpretendedthathehadfoundhimselfajob.ButKathleen’sreaction,whenshediscoveredhewaslying,wasclumsier:“Ifyourfatherwasalive,”shetoldhim,“youwouldn’tdarebehavelike this!”Thetwoof themwerevictimsofaclassicsituation,forcedtobecomeenemiesagainsttheirwill.Christophermustsurely have understood this, and known that it was his duty to play the

affectionatepeacemakerandhelpthemworkoutanewwayoflivingwitheachother.But,instead,hesidedwithRichardagainstKathleen.

So there were bitter sessions in which he revenged himself on the tiredtearfulwomanforallthehumiliationshehadenduredatthehandsofothers.Heaccused her of having tried towreck his life and of being now determined towreck Richard’s. She had tried to turn Christopher into a Cambridge don, hesaid, togratifyher selfishdaydreamof thekindof son shewantedhim tobe.Andsincehehadfoiledher,bygettinghimself thrownoutofcollege,shewastryingtoturnRichardintoanOxforddon,againsthiswill.

Christopher told her coldly and aggressively about his life in Berlin. Hemadehisactsofhomosexual lovesound likeactsofdefiance,directedagainstKathleen. I don’t thinkKathleenwas shocked.What he describedwas totallyunrealtoher.Howcouldthereberealsexwithoutwomen?Allshewasawareofwasthehate inhisvoice.Sosheweptandwroteinherdiarythat thiswastheend of “the nice era of peace.” She was obstinate, willfully stupid, andmaddeninglypathetic.Yet,inthemidstofhermisery,sheneveryieldedasinglepoint. Itwasn’t even that she thought shewas in the right.WhenChristophercalledinJohnLayardandhetalkedtoherwithhisusualbluntness,sheagreedmeeklythatshehadmademanymistakes.Layardimpressedherfavorably.Shereferredtohiminherdiaryas“verystrikingandunusual.”Butshewasn’taboutto change her attitude—she was incapable of changing—as Christopher nowbegantorealize.

*

Atlength,aletterarrivedfromHenryIsherwood,whowassomewhereabroad.Kathleen described it by saying that “Henry did the heavy uncle in grandstyle”—whichItaketomeanthatheadvisedChristophertostopwastingtimeinBerlin,settledowninLondon,andgetajob.Henryneverdidpaythatquarter’sallowance.Threeweekslater,hesentChristopherfifteenpoundswhichhehadwonatMonteCarlo,makingitclearthatthiswastoberegardedasanadvanceon the next quarter. This episode was typical of Henry’s queenly arrogance.Christopherexcused it,asalways.Hecouldn’t takeHenryseriouslyenough to

beangrywithhim.

*

A few days after Christopher’s arrival in London,Wystan had to undergo anoperation for a rectal fissure. His announcement of this, on a postcard, wascharacteristicallyterse.ItendedwithaT.S.Eliotquotation:“PrayforBoudin.”Christopher went up to Birmingham twice to be with him, before leavingEngland.

Wystan suffered from the aftereffects of this operation for several years.They inspired him towrite his “Letter to aWound,”which forms part ofTheOrators.

*

Christopherwentback toBerlinonMay8,having toldKathleen thathecouldneverliveinherhouseagain.Accordingtoherdiary,“hebeggedthatIshouldrefusetohavehimagainevenifhesuggestedcoming.”Hedidcomeback,butnot until tenmonths later. And, of the next three and a half years, hewas tospendonlyfivemonthsinEngland.

Theonlygoodwhich cameof this unhappyvisitwas thatChristopher andRichard became intimate. Up to that time, they had been almost strangers,because of the rareness of theirmeetings and the seven-year age gap betweenthem.RichardhadbeendreadingChristopher’sreturnfromBerlin,sincehefeltsureChristopherwouldagreewithKathleen thathemustgoback tohishatedtutor.So,whenChristopherdisagreedwithherandsympathizedwithhispointofview,Richardwascorrespondinglygrateful.Beforethevisitwasover,theyhadbecome friends. Richard was often rash and childish in his dealings with theoutsideworld,buttheeyeswithwhichheobserveditweresearchingandmatureand his comments were as candid as Layard’s. Christopher realized, withsurprise and pleasure, that he had a brother towhom he could tell absolutelyanythingabouthimselfwithoutshame.

*

DuringhisyearsinGermany,Christopherkeptadiary.Ashebecameawarethathewouldonedaywritestoriesaboutthepeopleheknewthere,hisdiaryentriesgot longer.They latersuppliedhimwithmostof thematerialwhich isused tocreateperiodatmosphereinMr.NorrisandGoodbyetoBerlin.

After those twobooks hadbeenwritten,Christopher burned the diary.Hisprivatereasonfordoingthiswasthatitwasfullofdetailsabouthissexlifeandhe feared that it might somehow fall into the hands of the police or otherenemies.

Christopher’sdeclaredreasonforburninghisBerlindiarywasunconvincing.He used to tell his friends that he had destroyed his real past because hepreferredthesimplified,morecreditable,moreexcitingfictitiouspastwhichhehadcreatedtotakeitsplace.Thisfictitiouspast,hesaid,wasthepasthewantedto“remember.”NowthatIamwritingaboutChristopher’srealpast,Isadlymissthe help of the lost diary and have no patiencewith this arty talk.TheBerlinnovels leaveoutagreatdealwhich Inowwant to remember; theyalso falsifyevents and alter dates for dramatic purposes. As for the few surviving letterswritten at that time byChristopher and his friends to each other, they usuallyhavenodatesatall.Igettheimpressionthattheirwritersregardedletterdatingas something beneath their dignity as artists—something bank clerkly, formal,andmean-spirited.Mymostreliablesourceofinformationproves,ironically,tobe the diaries ofKathleen,whomChristopherwas trying to exclude from hisBerlinlifealtogether.Kathleenpickedupscrapsofnewsfromfriendswhohadvisitedhimthereandfromhisoccasionalgrudgingletters.Iblessherforhavingrecordedthem.

*

ItwasprobablyinMay1930,soonafterChristopher’sreturnfromLondon,thathemettheyouthwhoiscalledOttoNowakinGoodbyetoBerlin.Hewasthensixteenorseventeenyearsold.

Ottohasafacelikeaveryripepeach.Hishairisfullandthick,growinglowonhisforehead.Hehassmallsparklingeyes,fullofnaughtiness,andawidedisarminggrin,whichismuchtooinnocenttobetrue.Whenhegrins,twolargedimplesappearinhispeach-bloomcheeks…Ottomovesfluidly,

effortlessly; his gestures have the savage, unconscious grace of a cruel elegant animal…Otto isoutrageouslyconceited…Ottocertainlyhasasuperbpairofshouldersandchestforaboyofhisage—but his body is nevertheless somehow slightly ridiculous. The beautiful ripe lines of the torsotaperaway toosuddenly tohis ratherabsurd littlebuttocksandspindly, immature legs.Andthesestruggleswiththechest-expanderaredailymakinghimmoreandmoretop-heavy.

ThisishowOttoisdescribedby“ChristopherIsherwood,”thenarratorofthenovel. The fictitious Isherwood takes the attitude of an amused, slightlycontemptuousonlooker.Henearlygiveshimselfawaywhenhespeaksof“thebeautiful ripe lines of the torso.” So, lest the reader should suspect him offindingOttophysicallyattractive,headdsthatOtto’s legsare“spindly.”Otto’soriginalinlifehadanentirelyadequate,sturdypairoflegs,eveniftheyweren’tquiteashandsomeastheupperhalfofhisbody.

Otto—ashewillbecalledinthisbook,also—wasachildoftheborderland.HisfamilycamefromwhatwasthenknownasthePolishCorridor,thestripofGermany which had been ceded to Poland by the Treaty of Versailles, afterWorldWarI.Likemanyotherfamiliesinthatarea,theNowakshadmovedwestandsettledinBerlin,ratherthanlosetheirGermannationality.YetOttohimselfseemed Slav rather than German, in his looks and temperament. His sensualnostrils and lips remindedChristopher of a photograph he had once seen of aRussiandancer.

When Otto was in a good mood, Christopher would be enchanted by hiseagerness toenjoyhimself.Hedelighted inwatchingmoviesandeatingmealsandmaking love. LikeChristopher, hewas a play actor. In themidst of theirlovemaking,hewouldexclaim,inaswooningtone,“ThisishowI’dliketodie—doingthis!”Once,whentheyhadseenafilmaboutapsychopathickiller,heturned to Christopher and said solemnly, “Let’s thank God, Christoph, we’reboth normal!” And he told stories, with immense tragic gusto. Of how, forexample, hewashauntedby ahuge spectral blackhand.Hehad seen it twicealready,onceinchildhood,onceinhisearlyteens.“Onedaysoon,I’llseethatHandagain—and then it’ll be all overwithme.”Ottowould say thiswithhiseyes full of tears. And there would be tears in Christopher’s eyes too, fromlaughing.

ForChristopher,duringtheirfirstmonthstogether,Otto’sphysicalpresenceseemedpartofthesummeritself.Ottowasthecomingofwarmthandcolortothedrabcoldcity,bringingthelindentreesintoleaf,sweatingthecitizensoutoftheirtopcoats,makingthebandsplayoutdoors.Christopherrodeonthebuswithhim to thegreat lakeatWannsee,where theysplashed together in the shallowwateramidsttheholidaycrowds,thenwanderedoffintothesurroundingwoodstofindaspotwhere theycouldbealone.Ottowas theexcitinglaughterof thecrowdandtheinvitingshadowofthewoods.Butthecrowdandthewoodswerealso full of menace to Christopher; within them lurked those whomight lureOttoawayfromhim.

Otto preferred women to men, but he was a narcissist first and foremost.Therefore,thedegreeofhislustwaslargelydependentuponthatofhispartner.Christopher could compete successfully with most women by showing morelust, more shamelessly, than they would. (Older womenwere a greater threatthanyoungones.)“Ilovethewayyoulookwhenyou’rehotforme,”Ottousedto say to him. “Your eyes shine so bright.”Ottowas perpetually admiring hisbodyandcallingChristopher’sattention to itsmusclesandgoldensmoothness—“just feel, Christoph, as smooth as silk!” When winter returned and Ottorevealedhimselfbitbybitashepulledofflayersofthickclothes,hisnakednessarousedbothof themevenmore.Hisbodybecamea tropical islandonwhichtheyweresnuglymaroonedinthemidstofsnowboundBerlin.

AlthoughOtto’sattractivenesswasverymuchamatteroftaste—hecertainlywasn’tconventionallyhandsome—Christopheralwaysfeltproudtobeseenwithhim in public. When they went to their favorite cabaret, which was also arestaurant,ChristopherwouldkeeplookingawayfromthestagetoseeifpeopleatothertableswereadmiringOtto.AndhelovedtowatchtheperformanceasitwasreflectedinOtto’seyes.

Christopher spentmoremoneyonOtto thanhecouldwellafford,butOttowascarefulnottogotoofarinhisdemands,orrather,wheedlings.WhenOttowas coaxingChristopher into buying him a new suit,Christopher enjoyed thegameinspiteofhismisgivings.Itwasakindofseductionanditalwaysendederoticallyaswellasfinancially.

Certainly, Otto was selfish. But so was Christopher, as is pointed out inGoodbye toBerlin. (Ihavechangedanameandsomepronouns fromtheonesusedinthenovel,inordernottoconfusethereaderofthisbook.)

Christopher’sselfishnessismuchlesshonest,morecivilised,moreperverse.Appealedtointherightway,hewillmakeanysacrifice,howeverunreasonableandunnecessary.ButwhenOtto takes thebetterchairasifbyright,thenChristopherseesachallengewhichhedarenotrefusetoaccept…ChristopherisboundtogoonfightingtowinOtto’ssubmission.When,atlast,heceasestodoso,itwillmerelymeanthathehaslostinterestinOttoaltogether.

ThisisanattempttodescribetherelationshipbetweenChristopherandOttoas it may have appeared to a third party, Stephen Spender. Stephenwas thenlivinginHamburgandtheywenttovisithimthereforafewdays,thatsummer.(IrememberStephen’sexplosivelaughashegreetedChristopher—thelaughofa small boy who has done something forbidden: “I’ve just written the mostmarvelouspoem!”Apause.Then,withsuddenanxiety:“Atleast,Ihopeitis.”)

In Stephen’s presence—and indeed in the presence of any of his Englishfriends—Christopher’s attitude to Otto became one of apology andembarrassment.Hefelthimselfbeingpulledintwooppositedirections.Hiswayof apologizing to Stephen for Otto’s existence was to play the martyred,masochistic victim of a hopeless passion—a character likeMaugham’s PhilipCareyinOfHumanBondage,whobecomestheslaveofMildred,thefaithless,rapacious teashopwaitress. Thiswas deliberate farce. EvenwhenChristopherfelt genuinely jealous, genuinely furious with Otto, he continued to play forStephen’s amusement. Otto, being a natural actor, knew this instinctively andenteredintotheperformance;hedidn’tobjecttotakingtheunsympatheticrole.Here is another scene from Goodbye to Berlin, with names and pronounschanged,asbefore:

Suddenly,Christopher slappedOttohardonboth cheeks.They closed immediately and staggeredgrapplingabouttheroom,knockingoverthechairs.Stephenlookedon,gettingoutoftheirwayaswell as he could. Itwas funny and, at the same time, unpleasant, because ragemade their facesstrangeandugly.Presently,OttogotChristopherdownonthegroundandbegantwistinghisarm:“Have you had enough?” he kept asking. He grinned: at that moment he was really hideous,positivelydeformedwithmalice.StephenknewthatOttowasgladtohavehimthere,becausehis

presencewasanextrahumiliationforChristopher.

Nevertheless, Otto wanted Christopher’s friends to like him. He tried toapproach them by the only method he knew: flirtation. This didn’t usuallydispleasethembutitdidmakethemdecidethathewasaquiteordinaryboyofhis kind, unworthy of their further curiosity. So they went back to talkingEnglishwithChristopher.Otto,whodidn’tunderstandthelanguage,wasobligedto read their faces, gestures, and tones of voice as an animal does—with theresult thatheendedbyknowingagreatdealmoreabout themthan theyknewabouthim.

Fromtimetotime,Christopherwasapttobecomesuddenlyangeredbyhisown embarrassment over Otto. Then he would blame his friends for it andpunishthembyexposingthemevenmoremercilesslytotheannoyanceofOtto’spresence.Thosewhoseultimatumis“loveme,lovemydog”areusingtheirpetsinthesameaggressivemanner.

When defending Otto, I must beware of making Christopher seem toosinister. Hewaswell aware of hismasochism and his domineeringwill; theywerepartofhissurvivaltechniqueasawriter.Heneededtobemadetosuffer;otherwise, he would have lapsed into indifference and never noticed or caredaboutanybodyoranything.Andheneededhiswill;without it,hewouldhavestopped working and probably have become an alcoholic. His will was apsychologicalmusclewhichhadbeenoverdevelopedinhisstrugglewithsloth.Buttoomuchmuscleisbetterthannoneatall.

*

AttheendofJune,WystancameouttoBerlinonashortvisit.Hehadbroughtwithhimaproofcopyofhisfirstvolumeofpoems,whichwastobepublishedthatSeptember.ThepoemswerepubliclydedicatedtoChristopher,andWystanhadalsocomposedapersonaldedicationtohim,indogGermanfullofprivatejokes. Christopher later lent the proof copy to Stephen, who accidentallycrumpleditsflimsypaperjacket.Beforereturningit,Stephenhimselfinscribedit:“WrittenbyWystan,dedicatedtoChristopher,damagedbyStephenSpender.”

Wystan wasn’t greatly interested in Otto but he did at least pay Otto thecompliment of treating him as a metaphysical concept. In a poem which hewroteforChristopher’sbirthdayin1931,OttoistheprizeforwhichChristopheris fighting against the powers of Hell. And Wystan declares—with morepoliteness,perhaps,thangenuineoptimism:

TheplantshaveonewholecyclerunSinceyourcampaignwasfirstbegun,Thoughstillthepeace-mapisnotdrawnItstandsrecordedThatmostofOttohasbeenwonToyouawarded.

*

Edward Upward (who is called Allen Chalmers in Lions and Shadows) alsovisitedChristopher inBerlin in 1930, toward the end ofAugust. EdwardwasChristopher’s closest heterosexual male friend—they had met at their publicschool and had become constant companions while up at Cambridge. Theirfriendshiphadgrownoutoftheiradmirationforeachotheraswriters.Sincebothof themwere essentiallynovelists, they shared the experienceofwritingmorecompletely thanChristopherandWystaneverdid.FromChristopher’spointofview,Wystan’spoemswerelikerabbitsheproducedfromahat;theycouldn’tbetalkedaboutbeforetheyappeared.

Becauseofthedifferenceintheirsexualtastes,EdwardandChristopherhadtended to keep their sex lives in the background of their conversation, to bereferredtowithapologetichumor.Theytalkedabouthomosexuality,ofcourse;but Christopher was conscious that Edward trod carefully.When he spoke of“buggers” and “buggery”—these were Christopher’s preferred epithets at thattime—hedidsoinexactlytherighttoneofvoice.

HereinBerlin,Edwardfelthimselftobeonbuggers’territoryandobligedtotread more carefully than ever. He did his best to treat both the HirschfeldInstituteandOttowithrespect.Whentheysawhowgood-lookingEdwardwas,Karl Giese and his friends archly decided that he and Christopher must once

have been lovers, despite Christopher’s denials. As for Otto, he flirted withEdward because Edward was Christopher’s friend. Christopher was uneasilyaware that Otto’s presence was spoiling their reunion. Yet his obsession wassuchthathecouldn’tbringhimselftotellOttotodisappearuntilEdward’svisitwasover.HewasafraidthatOttomightdisappearaltogether.

ChristopherhadalwaysregardedEdwardashis literarymentor;andnowitseemed that hemight becomeChristopher’s politicalmentor, too. ForEdwardwas now a convert to Marxism, although he hadn’t, as yet, joined theCommunistParty.ChristopherfoundnodifficultyinrespondingtoCommunismromantically,as thebrotherhoodofman.Buthewaswellaware thatEdward’sinvolvementwasn’tromantic,itwasaltogethersaneandserious;itwasachangeinhiswholewayoflife.Thischangeimpliedanausteritywhichbothattractedand scaredChristopher.He began to regardEdward as a conventionally piousCatholicmightregardafriendwhohadmadeuphismindtobecomeapriest.

Edward returned toEngland at the end of themonth.OnSeptember 2, hewenttoseeKathleen,atherinvitation.Formerly,shehaddisapprovedofEdwardas a subversive influence on Christopher in college. (She always thought interms of “influences.”) But now she turned to Edward instinctively, no doubtfeeling that, as a heterosexual, he couldn’t be part of Berlin’s influence onChristopher. (“That hateful Berlin,” she exclaimed in her diary, “and all itcontains!”)

EdwardreportedonthemeetinginalettertoChristopher:

Ihavebetrayedeverything,butverydiplomatically.MyonlyblunderwaslettingherknowthatyouwerepayingforOtto.Iwasproperlytrapped.AndI’mfarfromsurethatImanagedtoconvinceherthatbuggeryisn’tunnatural.However,IinsistedthatyouweremoreterrificthaneverinEngland.

*

After Edward’s visit, Christopher became increasingly aware of the kind ofworldhewaslivingin.Herewastheseethingbrewofhistoryinthemaking—abrew which would test the truth of all the political theories, just as actualcookingteststhecookerybooks.TheBerlinbrewseethedwithunemployment,malnutrition, stock-market panic, hatred of the Versailles Treaty, and other

potent ingredients. On September 20, a new onewas added; in the Reichstagelections,theNaziswon107seatsasagainsttheirprevious12,andbecameforthefirsttimeamajorpoliticalparty.

*

AtthebeginningofOctober,ChristophermovedoutofhisIndenZeltenroomand went to live with Otto and his family. The Nowaks had a flat in a slumtenementintheHalleschesTordistrict:Simeonstrasse4.(InGoodbyetoBerlin,the name of the street is given as theWassertorstrasse, theWaterGate Street,because Christopher thought it sounded more romantic. The WassertorstrassewasactuallyacontinuationoftheSimeonstrasse.)

The Nowaks’ flat consisted of a tiny kitchen, a living room, and a smallbedroom.The livingroomcontained twolargedoublebeds,adining table,sixchairs,andasideboard.Thesepiecesoffurnituremusthavecomefromalargerhome and a more prosperous period; there was barely space to move aroundthem.Thebedroomhadtwosinglebedsinit.

Christopher’s arrival caused a rearrangement of sleeping space which,characteristically,inconveniencedeverybodyinthefamilybutOtto.Otto’selderbrother,Lothar,hadtogiveuphisbedinthebedroomtoChristopherandmoveintooneofthedoublebedsinthelivingroom,sharingitwiththeirtwelve-year-oldsister,Grete.FrauNowak,whohadbeensleepingwithGrete,had tosharetheotherdoublebedwithherhusband.FrauNowakprobablydidn’tmindthis—though she complained of Herr Nowak’s snoring—because Christopher, as alodger,wasbringingextramoneyforhisbedandboardintothehousehold.HerrNowak certainly didn’tmind; he drank enough beer every night to be able tosleeplikeahog,regardlessofhisbedmate.Gretecan’thaveminded,either;shewasatanagewhensuchchangesarefun.Lotharprobablydidmind.Hewasaserious, hard-working boy of twenty who had been converted to NationalSocialism; hemust therefore have disapproved ofChristopher as a degenerateforeignerwhohadturnedhimoutofhisbedinordertohaveperversesexwithhisbrother.

Thiswasoneoftheatticflats,soitoverlookedtherooftopsandgotplentyof

daylight,atleast.Thelowerflatsstaredateachotheracrossthedeeppitofthecourtyardandtheirgloomwasperpetual.TheNowaks’chiefdisadvantagewasthat the roof of the building leaked and the rain water seeped through theirceiling. Therewas only one toilet to every four flats, and theNowaks had towalk down a flight of stairs to reach theirs, unless they preferred to use thebucketinthekitchen.Towashproperly—thatistosay,notinthekitchensink—theyhadtogotothenearestpublicbaths.

When the kitchen stovewas alight, the flat got smelly and stuffy;when itwasn’t,youshivered.And,nomatterwhatthetemperaturewas,thesinkstank.Becauseoftheleakyroofandtheovercrowding, theNowakshadbeentoldbythe housing authorities that they mustn’t go on living here. Dozens of otherfamiliesinthisdistricthadbeentoldthesamething;buttherewasnowhereforthemtomoveto.

InGoodbye to Berlin, “Isherwood” goes to live with the Nowaks in theautumnof1931,not1930.Therewere two reasons for this falsification.First,fromastructuralpointofview,itseemedbettertointroducesomeofthemoreimportantcharacters—SallyBowles,Frl.Schroeder,andherlodgers—beforetheNowaks. Second, since “Isherwood” is not overtly homosexual, he has to begivenanotherreasonforknowingOttoandanothermotiveforgoingtolivewithhisfamily.Inthenovel,“Isherwood”meetsOttothroughanEnglishmannamedPeterWilkinsonwhoisOtto’slover;andthemeetingtakesplacemerelybecausetheyhappentobestayingatthesameboardinghouseinaseasidevillage(Sellin)ontheislandofRuegenintheBaltic.ThenPetergoesbacktoEngland,havingbrokenwithOtto,andOttoand“Isherwood”returntoBerlin—butnottogether.

InSeptember1931,theBritishgovernmentwasforcedtoabandonthegoldstandard, thereby lowering the value of the pound in relation to foreigncurrencies and impoverishing British nationals who were living abroad onBritish money. In the novel, this gives “Isherwood” a respectable motive forgoingtolivewiththeNowaks;hebecomestheirlodgerbecauseheispoor,notbecausehewantstoshareabedroomwithOtto.

Christopher’sIndenZeltenroomdidcostalittlemorethanhecouldeasilyafford. Butwhen he left it, he didn’t do so because he had suddenly become

poorer; his move to the Nowaks’ flat was due to Otto’s coaxing. Otto haddecided that itwouldbe fun if theyall lived together,andChristopheragreed;suchslummingseemedathrillingadventure.BythetimetheBritishpoundfell,a year later,Christopherwas almost able to balance his losswith theGermanmoneyhewasearningbygivingEnglishlessons.HecouldalwayshaveaffordedsomethingalittlebetterthantheSimeonstrasse.

Quite aside from thenovelty of the experience,Christopher enjoyed livingwiththeNowaks.HesoonbecameveryfondofFrauNowak.Hercheekswereflushed prettily and the big blue rings under her eyesmade her look sick butstrangely young for her age; she had tuberculosis. There was somethingtouchinglygirlishandgayandevennaughtyabouther—sheknewallabouthisrelationshipwithOttoand,thoughsheneverreferredtoit,Christopherwassurethat it didn’t shock her. She loved the excitement of having him as a visitor.Christopher also got along well with Herr Nowak, a sturdy little furnitureremoverwhocalledhimChristophandslappedhimontheback.Gretehefoundtiresomebutendearinglysilly.HehaddonehisbesttomakefriendswithLotharand had, several times, tried addressing him with the familiar du (thou).Working-class men would call each other du even when they were strangers.HerrNowakhadsaiddutoChristopherfromthebeginning,thoughFrauNowakhadtoldhimthatitwasnowaytospeaktoagentleman.ButLotharhadquietlysnubbedChristopherbyreplyingtohimwiththeformalSie(you).Theflatwasuncomfortable,certainly;therewasnowheretoputanythingdown.But,asfarasChristopherwasconcerned,thediscomfortswereeasilybearable,likethoseofacampingtripwhichcouldbebroughttoanendwheneverhewished.

I doubt if Christopher managed to do any writing while he was with theNowaks.True,thereisapassageinGoodbyetoBerlin:

SundaywasalongdayattheNowaks.Therewasnowheretogointhiswretchedweather.Wewereallofusathome…Iwassittingontheoppositesideofthetable,frowningatapieceofpaperonwhich Ihadwritten:“But,Edward,can’tyousee?” Iwas trying togetonwithmynovel. Itwasabout a familywho lived in a large countryhouseonunearned incomes andwereveryunhappy.Theyspenttheirtimeexplainingtoeachotherwhytheycouldn’tenjoytheirlives;andsomeofthereasons—though I say itmyself—weremost ingenious.Unfortunately, I foundmyself taking lessand less interest in my unhappy family; the atmosphere of the Nowak household was not very

inspiring.

But here “Isherwood” is playing to the gallery. The novel he seems to bereferring to, TheMemorial, is described with willful inaccuracy—none of itscharacters are unhappy for “ingenious” reasons; they are bereaved and lonelyandinneedoflove,aspeopleoftenareonanysociallevel.“Isherwood,”merelybecause he hasmoved to theSimeonstrasse, feels that he has brokenwith hisbourgeois literarypast.Anythingwrittenabout theupper classes is simplynotworthreading,heimplies.Therichoughttobehappy—thatistheleasttheycanbe—since they are living onmoney they’ve stolen from the poor; if they aremiserable, that’s just too tiresome. In any case, their lives can never bemeaningful,asthelivesoftheNowaksare—andas“Isherwood”’slifeis,nowthatheislivingwiththem.

Such was a side effect of Christopher’s political awakening. But EdwardUpwardcan’tbeblamedfor it.Hewasutterlyincapableofsuchsilliness.AndChristopher himself knew better, despite his occasional lapses. Indeed, Iremember how, in the later thirties, he used to tell people that he hadwrittenabouttheNowaksinordertodebunkthecultofworkerworshipasitwasbeingpracticedbymanywould-berevolutionarywriters.

*

As it turned out, Christopher didn’t stay much more than a month at theSimeonstrasse. His immediate reason for leaving was that Frau Nowak wasbeingsenttoasanatorium;buthewouldhaveleftsooninanycase.Slumminghadlostitsnoveltyforhim,andheandOttowereonbadterms.Hisnextmove,sometimeinNovember,wastolodgingsintheAdmiralstrasse—number38.Thiswas in theneighboringdistrictofKottbusserTor,alsoaslum.ButChristophernowhadaroomtohimselfandwasincomparativecomfort.Whenhewent toregisterwiththepolice—youhadtodothiswheneveryouchangedyouraddress—they told him that he was the only Englishman living in that area.Christopher’s vanitywas tickled.He liked to imagine himself as one of thosemysterious wanderers who penetrate the depths of a foreign land, disguise

themselvesinthedressandcustomsofitsnatives,anddieinunknowngraves,enviedby their stay-at-homecompatriots; likeWaring inBrowning’spoem,orlikeBierce,whovanishedforeverintoMexico.

In the early stages of our friendship, Iwas drawn to himby the adventurousness of his life.HisrenunciationofEngland, his poverty, his friendship, his independence, hiswork, all struckmeasheroic.Duringmonthsinthewinterof1930,whenIwentbacktoEngland,IcorrespondedwithhiminthespiritofwritingletterstoaPolarexplorer.

Thuswrites Stephen Spender, serio-comically, in his autobiography,WorldwithinWorld.StephenhadadoptedWystanandChristopherashismentorswhilehe was still at Oxford. Christopher had been eager to welcome Stephen as apupil;heenjoyedpreachingLane-Layard tohimandhebriskly tookchargeofStephen’sproblemsasawriter:“Don’tbeputoffbywhatanydonsaysaboutForm.WhatdoesC.”(referringtoaninternationallyfamousscholarandcritic)“knowaboutForm?Itellyouitisagoodwell-constructedpieceofwork.Isn’tthatenoughforyou?”

Itwasmore than enough. Stephen responded in the spirit ofwholeheartedpupilship:

Howmany years will it take before I can emerge from the waters at the point where you haveemerged.ItisasthoughIhadtoswimthatrottenChannel.Ihavealwaysbeentryingtobuildtunnelsunderit.NowIgiveup.Iseeithasgottobeswum.

After their meeting in Hamburg in the summer of 1930, Stephen beganvisitingChristopherinBerlin.Christopherlethimhaveaglimpseoftherigorsofthe Simeonstrasse, and he was suitably impressed. (Writing to me more thanfortyyearslater,Stephenobservedsatirically:“Thiswasyourmostheroicperiodof poverty and sacrificing everything to buying new suits forOtto.”) Stephenwasnaturallygenerousandalsoconsciousthat,comparedtoChristopher,hewaswell off. Christopher didn’t discourage this idea. He accepted money fromStephenandoccasionallyfromEdward.Sometimeshepaid itback,sometimeshedidn’t.Stephenalsoshoweredhimwithbooksandothergifts.

Aspupil,StephenhadtoendureChristopher’smoods,hishypochondria,his

sulks, andhis domestic crises; but he seemed content to do this as long as hecouldenjoyChristopher’splay-actinganddogmaticpronouncements.Icanonlysuppose that Christopher’s performance was worth the trouble. Christopherseems to have had a remarkable power of dramatizing his predicament at anygivenmoment,sothatyouexperienceditasthoughyouwerewatchingafilminwhichyouyourselfhadapart.Stephenpossessedthispoweralso,andsoonhewouldbegintooutshinehismentor.Whichledtodifficulties,later.

Mentor and pupil must have made an arresting pair, as they walked thestreets and parks of Berlin together. Stephen, at twenty-one, still fitted prettywell the description of him at nineteen, as Stephen Savage in Lions andShadows:

Heburstinuponus,blushing,sniggeringloudly,contrivingtotripovertheedgeofthecarpet—animmenselytallshamblingboywithagreatscarletpoppy-face,wildfrizzyhairandeyestheviolentcolorofbluebells.Hisbeautifulresonantvoice…wouldcarrytothefarthestcornersofthelargestrestaurantthemostintimatedetailsofhisprivatelife.

AccordingtoWorldwithinWorld,Christopherhad:

aneatnessofthecuffsemphasizedbythewayinwhichheoftenheldhishandsextended,slightlyapartfromhisbody.

(ImyselfthinkthatChristopherhadunconsciouslycopiedthisfromtheposeofafighterinaWesternmoviewhoisjustabouttodrawhisguns.)

Hishairwasbrushedinaboyishlickoverhisforehead,belowwhichhisroundshiningeyeshadasteadinesswhichseemedtocomefromthestrainofeffort…Theyweretheeyesofsomeonewho,whenhe isapassenger inanaeroplane, thinks that themachine iskept in theairbyanactofhiswill…Themouth,withitsdeepverticallinesatthecorners,wasthatofatragi-comicChrist.

The Pupil, striding along beside the brisk, large-headed little figure of theMentor,keepsbendinghisbeautifulscarletfacedownward,lestheshallmissaword, laughing in anticipation as he does so. There are four and a half yearsbetween their ages and at least seven inches between their heights. The Pupilalreadyhasastoop,asalltallpeoplemustwhoareeagertohearwhattherestof

theworldissaying.AndmaybetheMentor,thatlittletormentor,actuallylowershisvoiceattimes,tomakethePupilbendevenlower.

FOUR

In December 1930, Christopher moved again—westward, from working-classintomiddle-classBerlin.HisnewroomwasinaflatatNollendorfstrasse17.TheNollendorfstrasse lay just south of the Nollendorfplatz, on which there werecafésandabigcinema.FromtheNollendorfplatz,bywayof theKleiststrasse,youenteredtheWestEndofthecitywithitsexpensiveshops.ThezoowasthereandtheKaiserWilhelmMemorialChurch.(Thischurchwasfatedtobecomeamemorialtwiceover.WhenBerlinwasrebuiltafterWorldWarII,itwasleftinitsruinedstate,asareminderofthebombings.)

The Nollendorfstrasse was neither elegant nor in good repair, but it wasmiddle-class-shabby,notslum-shabby.ItisdescribedinGoodbyetoBerlin:

Frommywindow,thedeepsolemnmassivestreet.Cellar-shopswherethelampsburnallday,underthe shadowof top-heavybalconied façades,dirtyplaster frontagesembossedwith scrollworkandheraldic devices. The whole district is like this: street leading into street of houses like shabbymonumental safes crammedwith the tarnished valuables and secondhand furniture of a bankruptmiddleclass.

“Isherwood”sits lookingoutof thewindow.Accordingto the timeschemeof the novel, he has only just arrived inGermany.He is the detached foreignobserver, getting his first impressions. “I am a camera,” he says to himself,“quitepassive,recording,notthinking.”

Thisphrase,Iamacamera,wasthetitleJohnvanDrutenchosefortheplayhe made out of the novel, in 1951. Taken out of its context, it was to labelChristopher himself as one of those eternal outsiders who watch the passingparadeof life lukewarm-bloodedly,withwistful impotence.Fromthat timeon,wheneverhepublished abook, therewould alwaysbe somecriticwhowouldquote it,praisingMr. Isherwoodforhissharpcameraeyebutblaminghimfornotdaringtogetoutofhisfocaldepthandbecomehumanlyinvolvedwithhissitters.

In the next paragraph, “Isherwood” listens to the whistling of youngmen

down in the street below. It is after eighto’clock, so all thehousedoorshavebeenlocked,accordingtoregulation,andthemenmustwhistleuntil theirgirlsthrowdownahousekeyforthemtoenterwithandcomeupstairs.

Becauseof thewhistling, Idonotcare to stayhere in theevenings. It remindsme that Iam inaforeigncity,alone,farfromhome.

“Isherwood” isplaying to thegalleryagain.As littleMr.Lonelyheart,withnobodytowhistleforhim,he invites thesympathyof themotherlyor fatherlyreader.Inreallife,thewhistlingwouldonlyhaveworriedChristopheronsomeoccasionwhenaboywaswhistlingforhimandhewasafraidthatOtto,whohadakey,mightshowupunexpectedlyandfindthemtogetherandmakeascene.

*

Christopher’s landlady at the Nollendorfstrasse, Frl. Meta Thurau, appears asFrl.LinaSchroederinbothMr.NorrisandGoodbye toBerlin.Ofall thechiefcharactersinthetwobooks,thisoneisleastdistortedfromitsoriginal.

All day long she goes paddling about the large dingy flat. Shapeless but alert, shewaddles fromroomtoroom,incarpetslippersandaflowereddressing-gownpinnedingeniouslytogether,sothatnotaninchofpetticoatorbodiceistobeseen,flickingwithherduster,peeping,spying,pokinghershortpointednoseintothecupboardsandluggageofherlodgers.Shehasdark,bright, inquisitiveeyesandprettywavedbrownhairofwhichsheisproud.Shemustbeaboutfifty-fiveyearsold.

When Frl. Thurau read this description many years later, in a Germantranslation, she objected to nothing except the statement that she “waddled.”Likemanythousandsofothermiddle-classvictimsoftheinflation,Frl.Thurauhad known wealthier days and still felt a sour amusement at finding herselfforced todomenial,unladylikework. (“IfyouwereaGermanwomanofyourclass,”ChristopheroncesaidseverelytoKathleenwhenhewasangrywithher,“you’dprobablyberunningabrothel,rightatthismoment!”)PoorFrl.Thurauwould have been far better offwith a brothel than shewaswith her flatful ofsleazy lodgers—Bobby thebartender,Frl.Kost the streetwalker,Frl.Mayr theout-of-workNazi-mindedjodlerin.Theywereallofthemapttogetbehindwith

therent.Frl.ThurauandChristopher took toeachother from thestart.Onher side,

this was because she decided that he was what she called a real gentleman,someonewhowouldn’tdamagethefurnitureorthrowuponthecarpetandwhowouldpayhisrentontime.Sheaddressedhim,coylyandcourteously,as“HerrIssyvoo.” Christopher found Frl. Thurau sympathetic, even adorable, for areasonwhichhecouldneverexplaintoher:shestronglyresembledacharacterinhischildhoodmythology—BeatrixPotter’sMrs.Tiggy-winkle,thehedgehog-ladywhodoeslaundryfortheotheranimalsinherneighborhood.

Frl.Thurauwouldbrewcupsofcoffeeorteaandchatwithhimatanyhourof the day. Shewas fond of exclaiming against the depraved state ofBerlin’smorallife,butinpracticeshewasnearlyunshockable.ShehadalowopinionofOttobecausesheregardedhimasaparasitewholivedoffChristopher;butsheneverobjected towhat theydid together inher flat.Shesleptona sofa in thecentrallivingroomandcouldthereforehearalmosteverythingwhichwentonintheneighboringbedrooms.WhenChristopherlookedintosaygoodmorningtoher, after having enjoyed himselfwithmore than usual energy and noise, shewouldrollhereyesandsayarchly,“Howsweetlovemustbe!”AsforFrl.Kost,Frl. Thurau only disapproved of her professionwhen shewas angrywith Frl.Kost for some other reason. An establishment like Frl. Thurau’s, where youcould do just as you pleased sexually, was described by Berliners as beingsturmfrei(storm-free).

*

Iwish I could rememberwhat impression JeanRoss—the real-life original ofSallyBowlesinGoodbyetoBerlin—madeonChristopherwhentheyfirstmet.But I can’t. Art has transfigured life and other people’s art has transfiguredChristopher’s art. What remains with me from those early years is almostentirelySally.Besideher,likeareproachfuleldersister,standsthefigureofJeanasIknewhermuchlater.AndbothSallyandJeankeepbeingjostledtoonesideofmymemorytomakewayfortheactresseswhohaveplayedthepartofSallyon the stage andon the screen.These, regardlessof theirmerits, are allmuch

more vivid tome than either Jean or Sally; their boldlymade-up, brightly litfacesarelargerthanlife.

(SallyBowles’ssecondnamewaschosenforherbyChristopherbecausehelikedthesoundofitandalsothelooksofitsowner,atwenty-year-oldAmericanwhomhemetinBerlinin1931.TheAmericanthoughtChristophertreatedhimwith “good-humored condescension”;Christopher thought theAmerican aloof.Christopher wasn’t then aware that this young man was in the process ofbecomingacomposerandnovelistwhowouldneednobody’sfictioncharactertohelphimmakehissecondnamefamous.HisfirstnamewasPaul.)

Studying early photographs of Jean—that long thin handsome white face,that aristocraticnose, that glossydarkhair, those largebrowneyes—Ican seethat she was full of fun and quite conscious of herself as a comic character.Once,afewyearslaterinLondon,shetoldChristopherthatshewasgoingovertoOstendefortheweekend.Heasked:“Whyonearth—?”Sheanswered,withherbrilliantgrin:“SoIcancomebackhereandbetheWomanfromOstende.”Iwouldn’tcaretorisklettingSallysaythatline.Ifafictioncharacterisallowedtoplay-actsoself-consciously,thereisadangerthatthemaskmaysticktoitsface.Itmayloseitsidentityaltogether.

Jean was more essentially British than Sally; she grumbled like a trueEnglishwoman,withhergrin-and-bear-itgrin.Andshewas tougher.SheneverstruckChristopher as being sentimental or the least bit sorry for herself. LikeSally, sheboasted continually about her lovers. In thosedays,Christopher feltcertain that she was exaggerating. Now I am not so certain. But when JulieHarriswasrehearsingforthepartofSallyintheAmericanproductionofIAmaCamera,JohnvanDrutenandChristopherdiscussedwithherthepossibilitythatnearlyallofSally’ssexlifeisimaginary;andtheyagreedthatthepartshouldbeplayed so that the audiencewouldn’tbe able tomakeup itsmind, eitherway.Julieachievedanexquisiteambiguityinherdeliveryofsuchlinesas:

Ihadawonderful,voluptuouslittleroom—withnochairs.That’showIusedtoseducemen.

Oneneverknewexactlywhatshemeantby“seduce.”

John van Druten’s Sally wasn’t quite Christopher’s Sally; John made herhumor cuter and naughtier. And Julie contributed much of herself to thecharacter. She seemed vulnerable but untouchable (beyond a certain point),quicklymovedtochildlikedelightordismay,stubbornlyobedienttothevoicesofherfantasies;abohemianJoanofArc,battlingtodefendherwayoflifefromthebourgeoisie.Inthelastscenebutone,thebattleappearedtobelost;JuliewasabouttogobacktoEnglandinthecustodyofherdomineeringmother,defiantbutdefeated.In tokenofherhumiliation,sheworeafrumpyexpensiveBritishcoatwhichhermotherhadmadeherputon.ShelookedasmiserableasJoanofArcmusthavelookedwhenshewasforcedtostopdressingasaman.Then,inthelastscene,Julieenteredinthecostumeshehadwornthroughoutmostoftheplay—ablacksilksheathwithablacktam-o’-shanterandaflame-coloredscarf,theuniformofherrevolt.Seeingit,oneknew,beforeshespoke,thathermotherhad retired routed from the battlefield. The effect was heroic. Bohemia hadtriumphed.The first-nightaudiencecheeredwith joy. Juliebecameastar.Andtheplaybecameahit,becauseofher.

The leadingmale character in the play is calledChristopher Isherwood. Indealingwith his sex life or, rather, the lack of it, John used a scene from thenovel.SallyasksChristopherifheisinlovewithher.Heanswers,“No.”Sallyrepliesthatsheisgladheisn’t,“Iwantedyoutolikemefromthefirstminutewemet. But I’m glad you’re not in lovewithme. Somehow or other, I couldn’tpossiblybeinlovewithyou.”The“somehoworother”maybetakentosuggestthatSallyknowsinstinctivelythatChristopherishomosexual—oritmaynot.AsforChristopher,heoncesaysvaguelythathehaswastedalotoftime“huntingforsex,”buthedoesn’tsaywhichkind.

InthefilmofIAmaCamera,ChristophergetsdrunkandtriestorapeSally.She resists him. After this, they are just good friends. In the musical playCabaret, the male lead is called Clifford Bradshaw. He is an altogetherheterosexualAmerican;hehasanaffairwithSallyandfathersherchild.Inthefilm of Cabaret, the male lead is called Brian Roberts. He is a bisexualEnglishman;hehasanaffairwithSallyand,later,withoneofSally’slovers,aGerman baron. At the end of the film, he is eager to marry Sally. But Sally

remindshimofhislapseandhintsthattheremaybeothersinthefuture.Brian’shomosexual tendency is treated as an indecent but comic weakness to besnickeredat,likebed-wetting.

In real life, JeanandChristopherhada relationshipwhichwasasexualbutmoretrulyintimatethantherelationshipsbetweenSallyandhervariouspartnersin the novel, the plays, and the films. Jean moved into a room in theNollendorfstrasseflataftershemetChristopher,earlyin1931.Soontheywerelike brother and sister. They amused each other greatly and enjoyed beingtogether,butbothofthemwereselfishandtheyoftenquarreled.Jeannevertriedtoseducehim.ButIrememberarainy,depressingafternoonwhensheremarked,“Whatapitywecan’tmakelove,there’snothingelsetodo,”andheagreedthatitwasandtherewasn’t.Nevertheless,onatleastoneoccasion,becauseofsomefinancial or housing emergency, they shared a bed without the leastembarrassment.JeanknewOttoandChristopher’sothersexmatesbutshowednodesiretosharethem,althoughhewouldn’thavereallyminded.

I don’t think that Jean stayed formore than a fewmonths at the flat. Frl.Thurauwastremendouslyintriguedbyherlooksandmannerisms,hermakeup,herstyleofdressing,and,aboveall,herstoriesabouther loveaffairs.Butshedidn’taltogetherlikeJean.ForJeanwasuntidyandinconsiderate;shemadealotof extra work for her landladies. She expected room service and wouldsometimesorderpeoplearound inan imperious tone,withEnglishupper-classrudeness.Frl.Thuraupreferredmalelodgers,anyway.

Unlike“Isherwood”andSally,ChristopherandJeandidn’tpartforeverwhenshe left Berlin. Circumstances separated them for long intervals, but theycontinuedtomeet,asaffectionatefriends,throughouttherestofJean’slife.Shediedin1973.

*

Through Stephen Spender, Christopher got to know another of his chiefcharacters-to-be: Gisa Soloweitschik. She was a young Jewish girl who livedwithherwealthyparents.StephenhadfirstmetherinSwitzerland,someyearspreviously.

InGoodbyetoBerlin,GisaiscalledNataliaLandauer:

Shehaddarkfluffyhair, far toomuchof it—itmadeher face,with itssparklingeyes,appear toolongandtoonarrow.Sheremindedmeofayoungfox.Sheshookhandsstraightfromtheshoulderinthemodernstudentmanner.“Inhere,please.”Hertonewasperemptoryandbrisk.

Natalia ispresentedasabossybluestocking,desperatelyenthusiasticaboutculture,sexuallyfrigidandprudish.Shetakes“Isherwood”inhandimmediately,decidingwhat books hemust read,what concerts hemust go to,what picturegallerieshemustvisit.Atfirst,“Isherwood”remainsmockinglypassivetowardherattempts to runhis life; thenhecounterattacksby introducingher toSallyBowles.He does this to testNatalia, not Sally; for he knows in advance howSally will behave. Sally, as usual, boasts about her lovers; and Natalia isprudishlyshocked.Shehas failedChristopher’s test.After this,heandNataliabecometemporarilyestranged.

Inreallife,JeanandGisanevermet,sotherewasnotest.ButIamsureGisacouldhavepassed it;shemightevenhavemadefriendswithJean. Indeed, theNataliacharacterisamerecaricatureofGisa,asStephenSpenderpointedouttoChristopherinareproachfulletter:

Gisaalwaysseemedtomeaverypassionatecharacter,childishinaway,moreRussianalmostthanJewish, generous and deeply interested in other people. The essential fact to me about yourrelationshipwithGisaisthatyoutalkedtohercontinuallyaboutOtto.Whenyoudidthis,tearsofsympathy started into Gisa’s eyes. Of course, the actual nature of the relationship was neverdiscussed,butsurelyGisaunderstoodanddeeplysympathized.

Since“Isherwood” in thenovel isneveremotionally involvedwithOttoorwithanyoneelse,itwouldhavebeenimpossibleforhimtorevealsuchfeelingsto Natalia, and thereby give her a chance to show her own warmth andsympathy. Christopher himself was aware that he hadn’t given the Nataliacharacter enoughwarmth.He tried tomake up for this toward the end of thestory,whenNataliaappearstransformedbybeinginlove.

Inthesameletter,StephenreproachedChristopherforhissneersatNatalia’scultureworship: “After all, theNazi attitude towards concerts and culture and

Jewsisinsomerespectslikeyours.”ItistruethatChristopherwasstill,atthattime,violentlyprejudicedagainst

culture worship. This prejudice had been formed long before he came toGermany,whilehewas living in theworldof theLondon studios, salons, andconcerthallsassecretarytotheviolinistAndréMangeot(calledCheuretinLionsandShadows). There he had grown to hate the gushings of concert audiencesandtheholyatmosphereofconcerts.

ButChristopherandtheNazisdidn’tseeeyetoeye.TheNazishatedcultureitself, because it is essentially international and therefore subversive ofnationalism.What theycalledNaziculturewasa local,perverted,nationalisticcult,bywhichafewmajorartistsandmanyminoroneswerehonoredfortheirGermanness, not their talent. The restwere condemned as alien and decadentand as representing the culture of the Jews. Christopher himself worshippedculture, but his was a very exclusive religion, to be shared only with fellowartists.Noone,hesaid,shoulddaretopraiseaworkofartunlesshehimselfisapracticing artist.Christopher therefore condemned the vastmajority of cultureworshippersasbeingignorant,presumptuous,andprobablyinsincere—whethertheywereJewsornon-Jewswasirrelevant.

Christopher outgrew this prejudice as he continued to publish books andbegantoacquireenthusiasticreaders.Itisnotinhumannaturetocondemnyourownworshippers,evenwhentheyaren’tfellowartists.

*

In Goodbye to Berlin, Natalia Landauer has a cousin, Bernhard Landauer.BernhardhelpstorunthedepartmentstorewhichisownedbyNatalia’sfather.Theoriginal ofBernhardLandauerwasWilfrid Israel.Wilfrid Israel andGisaSoloweitschik weren’t related to each other. Their families had no businessconnections.Wilfriddid,however,helptorunadepartmentstorefoundedbyhisownfamily.ItwasoneofthebiggestinBerlin.

Wilfridwastall,pale,dark-eyed,soft-spoken,preciseinhisspeech,asmilerwhoseldomlaughed.Helookedyoungforhisage.WhenChristophermethimin1931,hewasthirty-twoyearsold.

AsBernhard in thenovel,hisprofile isdescribedas“over-civilized, finelydrawn,beaky”:

He smiled and his face wasmasked with exhaustion: the thought crossedmymind that he wasperhapssufferingfromafataldisease.

Again and again, Bernhard is presented as being tired, apathetic. He isevidentlyquiteabletomeettheobligationsofhisimportantexecutivejob,butheregards it with weary irony. He even confesses to “Isherwood” that the storeitselfseemsunrealtohimattimes,perhapspartofanhallucinationfromwhichhe is suffering. This may not be meant literally, but Bernhard certainly isexpressingasenseofthemeaninglessnessofhisbusinesslifeandofhimselfasabusinessman. And he goes much further. When “Isherwood” asks him if hethinks therewillbeaNaziPutschoraCommunist revolution,heanswers thatthequestionseemstohim“alittletrivial.”Heproducesaletterfromafanaticalanti-Semite, threateninghimwithdeath,andremarks thathegets threeorfoursuch letters a week. “Isherwood” exclaims: “Surely you’ll tell the police?”Bernhardsmilesanotherofhistiredsmiles:

MyexistenceisnotofsuchvitalimportancetomyselfortoothersthattheforcesoftheLawshouldbecalledupontoprotectme…

areplywhichsuggestsapathyratherthancourage.Iamquitesurethat theseaspectsofBernhard’scharacterweren’t invented,

thattheywerefoundedonChristopher’sobservationofWilfridinreallife.ButaverydifferentWilfridappears inWorldwithinWorld. Stephen tells how,whenthe two of them were walking together on Ruegen Island, during a summerholidayin1932,Wilfridsurprisedhim

byoutliningaplanofactionfortheJewswhenHitlerseizedGermany—aneventwhichheseemedtoanticipateascertain.TheJews,hesaid,shouldclosetheirbusinessesandgooutintothestreets,remainingthere,asaprotest,andrefusingtogohomeeveniftheStormTroopersfiredonthem.Itwasonlysuchaunitedaction,withinahopelesssituation,whichwouldarousetheconscienceoftheworld.

Thiswasnomeretheoreticaltalk.Lessthanayearlater,whenHitlercametopower,Wilfridbegantoshowhimselfcapableofgreatcourageandfirmnessofpurpose.Wilfrid’smother had been English and he himself had been born inEngland.HewasaBritishsubjectandcouldthereforeleaveGermanyandsettleinEnglandwheneverhechosetodoso.Instead,hechosetoremaininBerlinforsevenmoreyears.Asitbecameincreasinglyclearthatnoconcertedactioncouldbe taken against the Nazis by the Jews or by any other group, Wilfridconcentratedonmorelimitedobjectives,includingthedefenseofthedepartmentstoreitself,foraslongasthatmightbepossible.

The store, like all other Jewish stores, was boycotted from time to time.Wilfrid himself was threatened, arrested, cross-examined, and (I have heard)temporarily imprisoned. Nevertheless, though repeatedly ordered to do so, herefused to dismiss his Jewish employees. He even refused to placate theauthoritiesbymakingthetokengestureofflyingtheswastikaflagoverthestorebuilding.Meanwhile,heworked toarrange theemigrationofasmanyJewsaspossibletoforeigncountries.AJewcouldoftenbereleasedfromaconcentrationcamponconditionthatheemigratedimmediately.Butsomeoneelsewouldhavetofindthemoneyforthisbecausehisownpropertywouldhavebeenconfiscatedalready.Atlength,in1939,thefirmofIsraelwastakenoverbynon-Jews;itwasthelastofitskindtochangehands.Wilfridthuslostmostofhispowertohelpothers. Just before theoutbreakofwar, his friendspersuadedhim to leave forEngland.

*

I can understand why Wilfrid chose to discuss his problems as a Jew withStephenratherthanwithChristopher.Stephen’sparentagewaspartlyJewishaswell as Anglo-German; Wilfrid may well have felt more akin to him. ButStephenmusthave toldChristopherabout theirconversation.AndChristopher,beforethetimecametowriteaboutWilfrid,musthaveheardatleastsomethingofhisdefianceoftheNazis.

ThenwhyisthisaspectofWilfridleftoutoftheportraitofBernhard?Eventhoughthenovelhadtoendin1933with“Isherwood”’sdeparturefromBerlin,

therecouldhavebeenafinalscenewithBernhardinwhichhisfutureattitudetothe Nazis is foreshown; in which, perhaps, “Isherwood” realizes that he hasmisunderstood and underestimated Bernhard from the beginning, and feelsguilty.Instead,“Isherwood”’sfinalscenewithBernhard—itissetinthespringof1932—endsonanoteofescapism.Bernhardhasbeen talkingaboutChina,saying that inPekinghefeltathomefor thefirst timeinhis life.“Isherwood”suggeststhathegobackthere.Thesuggestionsoundsslightlycontemptuous;itseems to equatePekingwith the cultureworshipwhich “Isherwood”despises.For Bernhard is a culture devotee like Natalia, though an infinitely moresophisticated one. Bernhard replies calmly yes, he will go to Peking, but onconditionthat“Isherwood”comeswithhimashisguestandthattheystartthatveryevening.“Isherwood”makesexcuses.HetakesBernhard’sofferasajoke,anyway.Itisonlymuchlater,afterBernhardisdead,that“Isherwood”becomesconvincedthattheofferwasserious,afterall.“IrecognizeitasBernhard’slast,most daring, and most cynical experiment upon us both.” In other words,BernhardhasplayedaninvertedformofRussianroulette, inwhichfiveof thechancesaredeathandonlythesixthchanceanescapefromdeathintoafarawayland—alandwherehecanbelieveinhisownexistence.

Christopher was accustomed to say that he never wrote about people hedidn’t like—because, when he disliked someone, he simply didn’t find himinteresting.Thiswasa show-off remark, typicalofChristopher inhis arrogantmood. Christopher did findWilfrid intensely interesting, despite the fact thattherewasagreatdealofhostilitybetweenthem.Nevertheless,hishostilitymaywellhavepreventedhimfromseeinganddescribingWilfridasahero.

Heissympathetic,charming.Buthisgestures,offeringmeaglassofwineoracigarette,areclothedinarrogance,thearroganthumilityoftheEast.

“Isherwood” stresses the “Oriental” aspect of Bernhard. In this case, theepithet seems to refer to theChinese.ButChristopher had a prejudice, at thatperiodinhislife,againstanotherOrientalrace,theHindus.Hefoundsomethingrepellent—thatistosay,personallydisturbing—inHinduhumilityandpassivity

and the arrogance he felt that it concealed.As amatter of principle, he sidedwith theHindusagainst theBritish raj andagreed that theyhadevery right totreat their English conquerors with arrogance. Still, he identified instinctivelywith the English. And so he found deeply disturbing the picture of himselfconfronted by one of these humble-arrogant figures, a Hindu, or aWilfrid—someonewho“knew”aboutlifeandwhoseknowledgemightbesuperiortohis.“Heisnotgoingtotellmewhatheisreallythinkingorfeeling,andhedespisesme because I do not know.” This prejudice of Christopher’s, I now realize,sprangfromfear—fearoftheunknownsomethingwhichtheHindusknew,thesomethingwhichhemightonedayhavetoacceptandwhichmightchangehislife.Asakindofmock-Hindu,Wilfridarousedthatprejudice.

Earlier in their relationship, therehasbeenabrief, inconclusiveshowdownbetween “Isherwood” and Bernhard. “Isherwood” accuses him of showinghostility by adopting this mock-humble attitude. “Actually, you’re the leasthumblepersonIevermet.”Bernhardreplieswith“Oriental”obliqueness:

Iwonderifyouareright…Ithinknotaltogether.Butpartly…Yes,thereissomequalityinyouwhich attracts me and which I very much envy, and yet this very quality also arouses myantagonism.

Bernhardsumshimselfupbyadding:“I’mafraidthatIamaquiteunnecessarilycomplicatedpieceofmechanism.”Whichmaybetakentoimplythathethinks“Isherwood”quiteunnecessarilycrude.

There is an enigmatic remark in a letterwrittenbyChristopher toStephenSpenderinNovember1932.AftertellingStephenthathehasseenWilfridlatelybutonlyonce,Christopheradds:“Heiskind.Buthecondemnsmeinhisheart.”WhatdidChristopher thinkWilfridcondemnedhim for? IbelieveChristophersuspectedthatWilfridwasaseverelyrepressedhomosexualandthat,assuch,hecondemnedChristopher for his aggressive frankness about his own sex life. IfChristopherdidindeedsuspectthis,itwouldhavebeencharacteristicofhimtobeextrafrankwithWilfrid,inordertojolthimintofranknessabouthimself.

In the novel, it seems to be implied that what Bernhard is hiding is aromanticattachment to“Isherwood.”Theshared trip toChinawhichBernhard

proposes ismade to sound like an elopement.WhetherWilfridwas orwasn’thomosexualisneitherherenorthere.OfonethingIamcertain,hewasn’tinlovewithChristopher.Ithereforefindthehintcontainedinthenoveloffensive,vagueasitis,andIamembarrassedtoknowthatWilfridreadit.

*

The story of Bernhard Landauer ends with the news of Bernhard’s death.“Isherwood”overhearstwomentalkingaboutitatarestaurantinPrague,inthespringof1933,justafterhehimselfhasleftGermanyforgood.OneofthemhasreadinanewspaperthatBernhardhasdiedofheartfailureandbothtakeitforgrantedthathehasreallybeenkilledbytheNazis.

ThekillingofBernhardwasmerelyadramaticnecessity.Inanovelsuchasthisone,whichendswiththeoutbreakofpoliticalpersecution,onedeathatleastis amust.Noothermajorcharacter inGoodbye toBerlin hasbeenkilled, andBernhardis themostappropriatevictim,beingaprominentJew.Thetimingofhisdeath,soearlyinthepersecution,isunconvincing,however—unlesshewasmurdered by mistake. The Nazis would surely have waited long enough toprepare some false charges against him. The liquidation of such an importantfigure in the businessworldwould have caused a lot of bad publicity abroad.Wilfridhimselfsurvivedforyears,despitehisdefiance.TheNazisdidkillhimintheend—butthat,onecanalmostsay,wasbyaccident.

Having settled in England, Wilfrid devoted himself to helping his fellowrefugees. After the French defeat, many of them were temporarily interned.WhenWilfrid visited the internment camps he used to say, “This is where Ioughttobe,too.”But,asaBritishsubject,hewasfree.HeenlistedintheCivilDefence.

By1943,thereweremanyJewswhohadescapedfromGermanyandAustriaandfoundtheirwaytoSpainandPortugal.InMarchofthatyear,WilfridflewtoPortugal to arrange for someof theyounger refugees to emigrate toPalestine.Withintwomonths,hehaddonethis.OnJune1,heboardedaplanetoflybacktoLondon.AmonghisfellowpassengerswasthefamousactorLeslieHoward.

OvertheBayofBiscay,threehundredmilesoffCapeFinisterre,theirplane

meteightNazifighters.Itisalmostcertainthatthefighterscameuponthembychance,whilereturningfromanunsuccessfulattempttolocatetwooftheirownU-boats. Unarmed airliners flying between Lisbon and London were veryseldom attacked, though they often carried important people. But, on thisoccasion,theNazishadsomereasontosuspectthatChurchillhimselfmightbeonboard;theyknewthathewouldbeflyingbackfromaconferenceinAlgiersataboutthattime.Therewerenosurvivors.

*

ChristopherfirstmetGeraldHamiltoninthewinterof1930–31.Atthatperiod,Gerald’ssocialpositionwassolidlyrespectable;hewasthesalesrepresentativeoftheLondonTimesforGermanyandhadhisofficeinBerlin.

InMr. Norris and I, one of Gerald’s several autobiographical books, hedescribeshowheobtainedthisjob:

Thisservestoshowwithwhateaseanybodycantodayobtainaresponsibleposition,nomatterwhathis past lifemight havebeen. Iwas able to provide the usual references; I did not have to tell asinglelie,andIfoundmyselfsuddenlylaunchedintothismostrespectableandresponsiblepost.TheeasewithwhichIobtaineditisonlyanotherillustrationofthevastscaleofhypocrisyuponwhichthestandardsofourcivilizationreallydepend.

Goodold,badoldGerald!Onecan’thelpadmiringhistactics.HeasksTheTimes for a job.The Times gives him one and is promptly denounced for itshypocrisy.Howdare itpretend tohavestandardsofrightandwrongif ithirespeoplelikeGerald,whooutragethosestandards?Howdareitpretendignoranceof,forexample,thesetwofacts?

That, during the First World War, Gerald had been imprisoned and laterinterned in England because of his “openly expressed pro-German and anti-British sentiments” and “enemy association.” (This had inspired HoratioBottomleytowriteanarticleentitled“HangHamilton!”)

Andthat,during1924and1925,GeraldhadspentseveralmonthsinvariousFrenchandItalianprisons,chargedwithswindlingaMilanesejeweleroutofapearlnecklace.

ButnowGeraldbetrayshimselfintoadmittingthathehasadoublestandard.While condemning The Times for employing a notorious traitor and thief, hemaintainsthathewasreallyneithertheonenortheother.Geraldwasn’tatraitor,becausehewasn’tBritish—well,technically,perhaps,butnotinhisheart,whichwas Irish through and through. Call him an Irish rebel, if you like, and apotential martyr to the cause of Irish freedom. He had proved his loyalty toIrelandbycorrespondingwithRogerCasement,whenCasementwas inBerlintrying to get German help for a rising against the British. (Geraldmust haveexpressedhimselfwithextremecaution, fornoevidenceofhisparticipation inthisplothadeverbeenproducedagainsthim.)

As for the pearl necklace—that accusation was really just anothertechnicality.Ifthejewelerhadn’tsentinhisbillsomuchearlierthanGeraldhadexpectedhimto,andifGeraldhimselfhadn’tdelayedsolongintakingcareofthe matter (“My usual inclination towards a policy of laisser aller”), all theresulting unpleasantness could have been avoided.Atworst, itwasmerely, asyoumight say, robbing Peter to pay Paul—and, anyhow,Gerald would neverhavebecome involved in theaffair ifhehadn’twanted toobligea friendwhowas in financial difficulties…Gerald had the art of talking like this withoutshowinganygenuineindignationandwithoutexactlydefendinghimself.Hewaswellawareofhisowndoublestandardandhecouldn’thelpgigglinginthemidstofhissolemnsincerities.Havinggiggled,hewouldskiptohappierthemes:themanyroyalandtitledladiesandgentlemenhehadknown;thepalaces,castles,andchateauxhehadbeenaguestat;theexoticmealshehadeatenandthenowextinctwineshehaddrunk.

It seems to me that Christopher “recognized” Gerald Hamilton as ArthurNorris,hischaracter-to-be,almostassoonasheseteyesonhim.WhenWilliamBradshaw (the I-narrator of the novel) meets Mr. Norris on a train, theirencounterseemsremembered,notimagined,althoughitssettingisfictitious.Inthesefirstsentences,HamiltonandNorrisarestillidentical:

My first impressionwas that the stranger’s eyeswere of an unusually light blue…Startled andinnocentlynaughty, theywere theeyesofa schoolboysurprised in theactofbreakingoneof therules…Hissmilehadgreatcharm.Hishandswerewhite,small,andbeautifullymanicured.Hehad

a largeblunt fleshynoseandachinwhichseemedtohaveslippedsideways. Itwas likeabrokenconcertina.Abovehisriperedcheeks,hisforeheadwassculpturallywhite, likemarble.Aqueerlycutfringeofdarkgreyhairlayacrossit,compact,thick,andheavy.Afteramoment’sexamination,Irealized,withextremeinterest,thathewaswearingawig.

From Christopher’s point of view, Gerald was enchantingly “period.” HeintroducedWystan, Stephen, and other friends to him, and soon theywere alltreatinghimlikeanabsurdbutnostalgicartworkwhichhasbeenrediscoveredbyalatergeneration.Geraldvastlyenjoyedthisnewaspectofhimselfandbegantoplayuptoit.Nodoubtherealizedthatthesenaïveyoungmenwhomarveledathis wig, his courtly mannerisms, and his police record were unconsciouslybecominghisaccomplices.Theyweremakinghimacceptable incircleswhichhe had never entered before—the circles of modern bohemia, which wouldwelcomehimbecauseofhisshadypast,notinspiteofit.Notallbohemiansarepoor.Geraldcould look forward toestablishing freshcontactswhichmightbeadvantageous.

(Thisremindsmeofacharmingyoungmanwhowasbrieflywelcomedintothosesamecirclesbecauseheadmittedfranklytobeingacatburglarandseemedtherefore “pure in heart,” according to the Lane-Layard creed. The homes ofsomeofhisadmirersweresubsequentlyburgled,butnothingwasprovedagainsthim.)

Geraldthereforedidn’treallymindwhenhefoundthathisnewfriendswerereferring to him as “amost incredible old crook”; although he would alwaysprotest, for form’s sake. On one occasion, a fellow Hamilton connoisseurremarkedtoChristopher,“ItseemsthatGeraldhashadamorallapse”;towhichChristopherreplied,“Geraldhavingamoral lapseis likesomeonefallingoffafootstoolatthebottomoftheGrandCanyon.”ChristopherwaspleasedwiththismotandrepeatedittoGerald,whogiggled,wriggled,andexclaimed,“Really!”

AsidefromGerald’stemperamentalextravagance,whichdrovehimtorunupbills he knew he couldn’t possibly pay, his wrongdoing seems to have beenalmostentirelyrelatedtohisroleasago-between.Ifyouwantedtosellastolenpaintingtoacollectorwhodidn’tmindenjoyingit inprivate,tosmugglearmsintoaforeigncountry,tostealacontractawayfromarivalfirm,tobedecorated

with a medal of honor which you had done nothing to deserve, to get yourcriminaldossierextractedfromthearchives,thenGeraldwasdelightedtotrytohelpyou,andhequiteoftensucceeded.Allsuchtransactionsinvolvedbriberyinone formor another.And then therewereGerald’s operational expenses.Andcertainunforeseenobstacleswhicharose—probablywithGerald’sassistance—andhadtobeovercome,atconsiderablecost.All inall,agreatdealofmoneywouldpassfromhandtohand.ThehandsinthemiddlewereGerald’s,andtheywere sticky…Ofcourse, in so-called legitimatebusiness, there is aphrase todescribeandjustifywhatGeralddid;itiscalledtakingacommission.Andif,inordertopracticehistrade,Geraldhadtohobnobwithbuyablechiefsofpolice,bloodthirsty bishops, stool pigeons, double agents, blackmailers, hatchetmen,secretariesandmistressesofpoliticians,millionairessesevenmoreruthlessthanthehusbandstheyhadsurvived—well, thatiswhat’scalledbeingamanoftheworld.

Like all deeply dishonest people, he made the relatively honest lookhypocriticalandcowardly.Onlyasaintcouldhaveremainedincontactwithhimand not been contaminated.And, by associatingwith him, you incurred someresponsibility, even if itwas only one tenth of one percent, for the really vilethingswhichmanyofhisassociateshadundoubtedlydone.Irememberaman,hewasconnectedwithFrenchcounterespionage,whomChristophermetthroughGerald;hehadthemostevilfaceIhaveeverseeninmylife.

Geralddidn’tlookevil,but,beneathhisamiablesurface,hewasanicycynic.He took it for granted that everybody would grab and cheat if he dared. Hiscynicismmadehimastonishinglyhostiletowardpeopleofwhomhewastakingsome advantage; at unguardedmoments, he would speak of themwith brutalcontempt. In Christopher’s case, Gerald’s cynicism was justified. He wouldcertainlyhaveletGeraldtempthimintoseriouslawbreakingifhehadn’tbeensocautiousbynature.

Looking back onGerald’s career, I find hismisdeeds tiresome rather thanamusing.Hisdishonestywastiresomebecauseitwassopersistent;hewaslikeagreedyanimalwhichyoucan’t leavealone in thekitchen, even for an instant.Andyet,whatdidallhisintriguesobtainforhim?Heusedtoboastcoylyofhis

coups, tohintathavingnetted“acool thou”or“apositivelyglacialsum”;butwhenyoupressedhimfordetails,hebecameevasive.Probablyhewasashamedof the self-indulgence with which he squandered whatever money he hadgrabbed.Throughouthislife,hewaspesteredbycreditors.Thestrangetruthisthathewasanamateur,hopelesslyunbusinesslike, romantic, andunmodern inhis methods. Crime, as he practiced it, doesn’t pay. It is as demanding andunrewardingaswitchcraft.

Nevertheless,despitetheanxietiesamidstwhichhelived,Geraldgenuinelyenjoyed himself. And he shared his enjoyment with his friends. When theweatherwasdulland lifewasgloomy,hecheeredyouupby thecharmofhisabsurdity.Hewoulddressforsomehumdrumgatheringasifforabrilliantsocialeventand thusalmostmanage to turn it intoone.Hecouldmakeyoufeelyouwereatabanquetwhen, in fact,youweresuppingoffscrambledeggsandvinordinaire.Helaughedatyourjokes,heflatteredyou,hewassincerelydelightedwhenyouwerepleased.Hewasthereforelikedbymanypeoplewhothoroughlydisapproved of him. Others, including Frl. Thurau, adored him without anyreservations.HereferredtoherasLaDivineThurau.

Gerald had an Irish genius for embracing causes with passion and takingsidesfuriouslyinadispute.Thepassionandthefurywereoftentemporary,andhe felt no embarrassment in changing his convictions later. At one time oranother,hewasapacifist,acrusaderforIrishindependence(nomatterwhatthatmightcostinthebloodofothers),anear-Communist,aright-wingextremist,acriticoftheVatican’sforeignpolicy,adevoutCatholic.Notunnaturally,hewassuspectedofhavingulteriormotives;often,nodoubt,hehad.ButitisdifficulttofindanythingsinisterinthehardworkhedidfortheFighttheFamineCouncilandtheSavetheChildrenFund,aftertheFirstWorldWar.Andheoftenwroteletters to the press, in favor of legalized abortion, prison reform, and theabolitionofcapitalpunishment,whichwereadmirablyoutspokenandlucid.

Mr.NorrisfailstorevealwhatwasthemostenduringbondbetweenGeraldandChristopher,theirhomosexuality.Whenitcametobreakingthelawswhichhadbeenmadeagainsttheexistenceoftheirtribe,ChristopherwashappytobeGerald’sfellowcriminal.

FIVE

Edward andWystan had read TheMemorial in manuscript, shortly before oraftertheNewYear.Bothhadpraisedit,eachinhisownpeculiarlanguage—towhich Christopher was so accustomed that he never reflected how bizarre itwouldlookonabookjacket:

Upward: All the trumpets spoke and a man with gray ears wept in torrents of sulphur overCharlesworth,LilyandtheattemptedsuicideofEdwardBlake.Auden:YoualonehavehadthecourageandthereagentstobringouttheFigureinthatcarpet.MayIalsoutterawordofpraiseforIsherwood’sweather.

Christopherdidn’tdoubt the sincerityof theirenthusiasm.Nevertheless,hewasstillworried.Thesewerehisclosestfriends.Therelationbetweenthemandhimselfwasessentiallytelepathic.Mightn’ttheyhaveunderstoodtelepathicallywhatitwasthathehadwantedtoexpressinthisbookandthusoverlookedthefact thathehad failed to express it?And, if thiswas so,howwould thebookseem to untelepathic Jonathan Cape? Cape had published Christopher’s firstnovel,AlltheConspirators,in1928.Now,inMarch1931,hewasmakinguphismind whether or not he should publish The Memorial. Christopher left forLondononMarch10,tobeonthespotandgetthenewsofCape’sdecisionwithaminimumofdelay.

During their separation, Christopher had made peace with Kathleen bydefault.Shewasapassivefortressandhehadstoppedattackingher.Whatwasthe use? Shewas impregnable, anyway. They had exchanged a few letters, inwhichtheirdifferenceswereneverreferredto.

The day after Christopher’s arrival, Kathleen wrote in her diary: “We sattalkinginmyroomtillnearlyoneA.M.Itwasalmostasitusedtobelongago.”But,adayortwolater,shehadbecomeanxious:

Fearthestateofthingsisworsethaneverandhelookssofarfromwell,inawayheisgladtobeback but is restless and not happy, and absorbed in Otto who is more a cause of misery thanhappiness.

It seems extraordinary to me, now, that Christopher would have so farexposedhimselfastoletherseethatOttowas“acauseofmisery”tohim—thusadmittingtoafailureinhishomosexuallifeandconfirmingherprejudiceagainstit.Eveninhislatetwenties,hestillhadachildlikeurgetoconfideinherwhichheseeminglycouldn’tcontrol.

On March 14, Jonathan Cape turned down The Memorial, firmly andpolitely: “I realize that there is a risk in letting you go, as you may make aconnectionelsewherewhichwillendure.Itcertainlyshouldbepublished.”

The rejectionofyour secondnovel—quite a commonexperience—ismorepainfulthananynumberofrejectionsofyourfirst;atleast,Christopherfounditso.As long as no publisher had accepted a book by him, he could regard allpublishers as the Others, mere merchants whose literary judgment was worthnothing,exceptmoney.ButJonathanCapecouldn’tbe thusdismissed.Hehadshown himself to be a man of rare taste, a non-merchant and other than theOthers, when he had accepted All the Conspirators after two publishers hadrejectedit.Christopher’sself-confidencewasshaken.

IntheeventofarefusalbyCape,StephenSpenderhadadvisedChristopherto leave the novel with Curtis Brown, the literary agents, and let them try toplaceitelsewhere.HenowmetwitharepresentativeofCurtisBrownandwasgivenanexpensivelunch,fromwhichherosewithhishopesirrationallyraised.

Meanwhile,Stephenwas loyallyawaitinghim inBerlin.Christopherwrotetelling Stephen to “hold the fort a little longer.” Holding the fort evidentlyincluded coping with some kind of trouble which Otto had got himself into.KathleenrecordsthatStephenwiredback:“AllwellOtto.”ChristopherreturnedtoGermanyonMarch21.

*

InJuneorearlyJuly,Christopher,Stephen,andOttowenttoSellinonRuegenIsland for a summer holiday. Here Wystan joined them, rather unwillingly.Unlike Christopher, who felt indecent until he was darkly sunburned,Wystanhadnouse for thebeach and the sea.Hiswhite-skinnedbody,when exposed,becamepainfullypink.Hepreferredrainyweather.Duringmuchoftheday,he

shut himself up in his bedroom with the blinds pulled down, ignored thesummer,andwrote.IsupposehewasworkingonTheOrators.

Stephen was writing too, though he spent much of his time out of doors,keepingChristopherandOttocompany.Hewasrecordingtheirholidaywithhiscamera. This had an automatic shutter release, so Stephen himself wasn’tnecessarilyexcludedfromtherecord.Inarecentlettertome,herecallsthat:

withamasturbatorycameradesignedfornarcissistsItook—orittook—themostfamousphotographinthehistoryoftheworld,ofUSTHREE.

Stephen, in the middle, has his arms aroundWystan and Christopher and anexpression on his face which suggests an off-duty Jesus relaxing with “theselittleones.”Christopher,comparedwiththeothers,issuchaverylittleonethathelooksasifheisstandinginahole.

Stephenalso tookpicturesofOtto—someabsurd, someanimallybeautiful:Ottoinaloincloth,strummingonaguitarandpretendingtobeanHawaiianboy;OttocaughtunconsciouslytakingtheposeofaMichelangelonudeontheSistineChapel ceiling. How delighted Otto would have been to know that in 1974severalofthesepictureswouldbedisplayed,aspartofatelevisiondocumentary,before an estimated five million British viewers! And how delightedly—andwrongly—Stephen,Wystan,andChristopherwouldhaveassumed,onthebasisofthissinglefact,thattheEnglandofthenineteen-seventieswouldbeanearthlyparadiseofloveandliberty.

All in all, this Ruegen visit wasn’t a success. Wystan soon returned toEngland. Christopher and Otto squabbled, because Otto spent his eveningsdancingwithbeachgirlsatthelocalcasinoanddidn’tcomehomeuntilthesmallhours.Onthelastday,Christophercuthistoeonasharpbitoftinwhilewadingintothesea.Thecutfesteredandhewasasemi-crippleforseveralweeksafterhisreturntoBerlin.

Meanwhile,StephenhadbeeninSalzburg.Whenhewrotethathewouldliketo rejoinChristopher and asked if therewas a room free for him,Christopherreplied:

I thinkIcouldfindyousomethingcheaper twodoorsaway.I thinkit isbetter ifwedon’tall liverightontopofeachother,don’tyou?IbelievethatwaspartlythetroubleatRuegen.AnyhowI’mresolvednottolivewithOttoagainforalongtime.Because,theselastdays,whenhe’sbeenintoseemeforquiteshortperiods,havebeenabsolutelywonderful…

This is the first indication that Stephen has been getting on Christopher’snerves. Christopher onlymentionsOtto because he is embarrassed to have toadmit that he doesn’t want Stephen living in the same apartment with him.Stephentookthehint.InsteadofreturningtoBerlin,hewentbacktoLondon.

*

CurtisBrownhadbeenunabletofindapublisherforTheMemorial;ithadbeenrejectedby threemoreof them,Davies,Secker, andDuckworth.Stephennowtook the manuscript personally to John Lehmann, who was managing theHogarthPressforLeonardandVirginiaWoolf.StephenhadalreadypraisedTheMemorialtoLehmannasoneofthemasterpiecesoftheirgeneration.Stephen’sextravagantenthusiasmcouldsometimesbeadangertoitsobject,butLehmannwasn’tdeterred.Hereadthemanuscript,decidedthathelikeditverymuch,andpromised Stephen to do everything he could to persuade theWoolfs that theymustpublishit.WhenChristopherheardthisnews,hefeltashamedofhimselfforhavingrebuffedStephenandwrotetohimwarmly,thankinghimforallhiseffortsonbehalfofTheMemorial:“IftheHogarthdotakeit,itwillbeentirelybecauseofyou.”

Notlongafterthis,ChristopherreportedtoStephen:

IhadaletterfromCurtisBrowntosaythattheHogarthwantstoreadAlltheConspiratorsbeforedecidingaboutTheMemorial. I’mafraid that’llbe itsdeathblow,butamwriting tomymother toforwardacopy.IfyouarewritingtoLehmanndoimplorehimnottobeputoffbytheConspirators.TellhimI’llwritemynextbookinanystyletheylike—eventhatofHatter’sCastle.

(This was A. J. Cronin’s first novel. Christopher hadn’t read it yet; hedespiseditsimplybecauseitwasabestseller.Whenhedidreaditlater,hewassurprisedtofindthatitmovedhim.)

If the Hogarth (or Blackwell or the Universal Press or the Society for Promoting ChristianKnowledge, for thatmatter)would only takemynovel I feel I could put upwith anything that’sbilled to happen tome thiswinter…There is always the possibility of thePrussian governmentbeingoverthrownnextSundaybytheNazisandallforeignersexpelled.

(Christopher liked to play the front-line alarmist for the benefit of stay-at-homecivilians;hewasapttoforgetthatStephenhadbeeninthefrontlinetoo.HereferstoareferendumwhichwastobeheldonAugust2,todecidethefateoftheBrueningadministration.Onthisoccasion,itwassaved;but,inanycase,therewasnorealdangerofaNazitakeoverthatyear.)

Jean talks of going toAmerica in thewinter.Hamilton has openly declared forRussia.Otto is achampionathlete.

(JeanneverdidgotoAmerica.ShemayhavegottheideaofdoingsofromanAmericanwhomsheandChristopherhadrecentlymet,theoriginalofCliveinGoodbyetoBerlin.LikeClive,theAmericanthrilledthembyinvitingthemtocome with him to the States and then dashed their hopes by leaving Berlinabruptly,withoutsayinggoodbye.

GeraldHamilton, inMr.Norrisand I,writes that “Iwas in touchwith theleading German Communists, who alone, as a political party, represented mypointofviewonsocialmatters.”Thatsummer,hehadbeenmakingspeechesonhis favorite reform projects at meetings sponsored by the Communists. TheLondonTimesheardof thisand toldhim to resign fromhis jobwith them.SoGeralddecidedtolooktotheLeftforanewpaymaster.Hemusthave“declaredforRussia”bymakingsomesortofstatementtothepress.

Iforgetwhatkindof“championathlete”Ottohadbecome.Probablyhehadjoinedalocalsportsclubandwonafewraces.Hisburstsofenergywerealwaysbrief.)

*

InAugust,ChristophermetKlausMann,ThomasMann’seldestson;thiswashisfirstcontactwithamemberof that family.KlausandChristopher tooktoeachotherfromthestart.Theyweretobecomeintimatefriendswhoseldomsaweach

other,forKlauswasalwaysonthemove.Like most other people who knew Klaus, Christopher supposed that it

couldn’t be easy for him, as a writer, to be his father’s son. But Klaus wasevidently able to acceptThomas,Nobel Prize and all; he didn’twaste his lifeshiveringenviouslyinthathugepaternalshadow.Nordidheaffectthegrandeurandalienatedgloomof somanyEuropean literarymen.Hismannerwaseasy,lively,witty;yethewascapableofcaringdeeplyabouthisfriendsandthecauseshe believed in, and of fighting on their behalf. Christopher found thiscombination lovable. At the same time, far down beneath Klaus’s brightness,courage, apparent freedom from self-pity, therewas an obstinate drive towardself-destruction.Christopherdidn’tbecomefullyawareofituntilshortlybeforeKlaus’ssuicidein1949.

*

OnSeptember2,Stephen,whowasstillinLondon,phonedKathleentotellherthattheHogarthPresshadacceptedTheMemorial.HemusthavewantedtoletherhavethepleasureoftelegraphingthenewstoChristopher,whichwastrulyconsiderateofhim.Christopherwasdelighted,ofcourse.Buthesoonmanagedto find grounds for renewed anxiety—in the devaluation of theBritish pound.LateinSeptember,hewrotetoStephen:

IhaveheardnothingmoreofTheMemorial.Canitbethattheyarebackingoutofitowingtothiscrisis?Allthingsarepossible.Thepoundwasat15butisbettertoday.IamlivingchieflyonwhatIearnbygoingformorningwalkswithaGerman-AmericanboywhosaysYepandNo,Sir.

Afewdaysafterthis,ChristopherreportsthattheGerman-Americanboy,inthemidstofsomegame,has

stuckapointedstickintomyeyelidaboutamillimetrefrommyeye.IambathingthewoundnowandeatinggrapessuppliedbyFrl.Thurau,whoreallyistheworld’sbestlandlady.

Astandardtableau—playedmanytimespreviouslyandoftentobereplayed:Christophersensuallyenjoyinghisroleofmartyr-invalid.

Germanyisprettybloody.ThisRevolution-Next-Weekatmospherehasstoppedbeingquitesuchajokeandsomehowthefeelingthatnothingreallywillhappenonlymakesitworse.Ithinkeverybodyeverywhere is being ground slowly downby an enormous tool. I feelmyself getting smaller andsmaller…GisaleavestonightforParis.Shewouldlikeyoutowritetoherandwillsendmeorusbothheraddress.Itseemsstrangethatthathouseholdhascometoanend.

ThusGisaSoloweitschik,likeNataliaLandauer,madeafortunateexitfromthe Berlin scene before the coming of Hitler. She settled with her parents inFrance,whereshemarriedaFrenchman.Gisaandherhusbandwerestill thereafterthewar.Stephenkeptintouchwithher,butChristopherfailedtodoso.

This job lasts till the end of October or possiblyNovember. And then?Well, there is perhaps avacancyinHamilton’snew“Anglo-AmericanNewsAgency,”whichlookslikebeingaprettygoodhive ofBolshevik crooks…Did you say you hadMirsky’s book onLenin? I should be awfullygratefulifyou’dsenditsometime.

Iamdepressed,butonlyuptoapoint.IspendmostofthedaylaughingwithHamiltonoverhisclassicstruggleswiththebailiff.

ThevisitsofthebailiffwereduetoGerald’slossofhisjobwithTheTimes.Thishadautomaticallyputanendtohiscredit.Hiscreditorswerenowtryingtorepossessthefurnitureandothervaluableswhichhehadn’tpaidfor—thatistosay, almost everything in his flat. I can’t remember if the “Anglo-AmericanNewsAgency”ever actually came intobeing.Geraldobviouslyhad tohaveaCommunist-frontorganizationofsomesort,oratleastaplanforone,beforehecouldappealtotheCommunistPartyforfinancialhelp.

ButtheGermanCommunistsdependedlargelyonRussianmoney,andhereGeraldfoundhimselfupagainsthard-nosedprofessionalsinsteadofthegreedy,gullibleamateurshewasusedto.TheRussiansdemandedresults,andtheywereslow payers even after they had got them. According to Gerald, the Germanpartyofficialsoftenhad towaitmonths for their salaries to come through.AsGerald’sfinancialdisappointmentinthepartygrew,hebecamemoreandmorecritical of it. Through his eyes, Christopher began to see its seamy side—itsprivate feuds, its inefficiency, its bewildered efforts to follow the changingtacticsdictatedbyMoscow.

Christopher took it for granted that the Communists saw right through

Gerald; that they valued him merely as a gentlemanly go-between whoseappearance and fine manners would be helpful in their dealings with thegentlemen of the opposition. Still, Christopher couldn’t help feelingsentimentally shocked that the Party of the Workers could thus forget itsproletarianethicsandstooptousethisuncleaninstrument.

Amidst these doubts, Christopherwas reading about Leninwith reverenceandenthusiasm.Hence,hewascapableofaskingStephenfortheMirskybook,alludingto“Bolshevikcrooks,”anddecoratinghissignaturewithahammerandsickle,allinthesameletter.Hewaswhatpartydialectitionsused,inthosedays,tocall“unclear.”

*

Thatautumn,Jeangotherselfatheatricaljob—atinyone,butinatremendousproduction:MaxReinhardt’sTalesofHoffmann,whichopenedonNovember28.Thiswasoneofthelastgreatspectaclesofthepre-HitlerBerlintheaterand,inasense,Reinhardt’sfarewelltoit.ChristopherwastomeethimandhisfamilyintheirCalifornianexile,duringthewar.

Ofalltheopera’ssplendidstagepictures,theonemostvividinmymemoryisthatoftheGrandCanalinVenice,withagondolatravelingdownit.Inordertomakethegondolaappear tomove,Reinhardtmovedtheset itself.Thehugepalacefrontsswungslowlyaroundasthegondolaroundedacurveofthecanal.Themovement of the palaces caused a profoundmechanical rumbling whichwassometimeslouderthanthemusicbutwhichneverthelessseemedpartoftheintendedeffect.Itwasmagnificentlysinister,likethetreadofdoom.

In the course of the ball scene at the Venetian palace of the courtesanGiulietta,severalpairsofloverswerecarriedontothestage.Eachpairreclinedonalitter,lockedineachother’sarms.Theseloversweremerelyextrasandfewmembers of the audience can have paid any attention to their embraces, oncetheyhadmade theirentrance, foradazzlingcorpsdeballetwasperforming inthe middle of the stage. But Christopher watched one pair of lovers intently,throughoperaglasses,untiltheendofthescene.Evenso,hecouldn’tbesureifwhatJeanhadtoldhimwastrue—thatshehadsexwithherpartnerinfullview

oftheaudienceateverysingleperformance.

*

TheMemorial was published on February 17, 1932. There were a few reallyfavorable notices. The best of themwas in theGranta. I remember how onereviewer remarked that he had at first thought the novel contained adisproportionately largenumberofhomosexual charactersbuthaddecided,onfurtherreflection,thattherewerealotmorehomosexualsabout,nowadays.

*

That spring, Francis returned to Germany. Soon after their reunion, he toldChristopherthathedidn’twanttostaycoopedupinBerlin.Heplannedtotakeahouseinthecountry,drinkless,spendalotoftimeoutofdoors,gotobedearly,andbehealthy.HeurgedChristophertojoinhiminthisexperiment.Christopherpromised to think it over—he was inclined to say yes, for several reasons.SeeingFrancisagain,hefeltarenewedaffectionforhim; therewasnospecialpersontokeephiminBerlin,nowthathisaffairwithOttohadatlastcooledoff;livingwith Francis would be far cheaper than theNollendorfstrasse, since hewould only have to pay for his food; also, he had started work on anautobiographicalbook(whichwouldonedaybecomeLionsandShadows)andhe knew that the dullness of the country would make it easier for him toconcentrateonit.

Francis had already engaged Erwin Hansen, Karl Giese’s friend from theInstitute,ashiscookandhousekeeperandtoldhimtofindsomeonetohelpwiththehousework.SoErwinhiredaboynamedHeinz.OnMarch13,shortlybeforeFrancis, Erwin, andHeinzwere due to leave for the country,Christopher andHeinz met. Meeting Heinz was what finally decided Christopher to go withthem.

Itmust surely have beenErwinwho had arranged that they should live atMohrin.Perhapshehadfriendsthere.PerhapshisfriendsevenownedthehousewhichFranciswas torent.Onlysomesuchpersonalmotivescouldexplainhischoiceofthatparticularvillageoutofsomanyalmostidenticalothers.Mohrin

wasnortheastofBerlin,nearwhatwasthenthePolishfrontier.(NowitisinsidePolandandisspelledMoryń.)

Asaveryyoungman,ChristopherhadreadTurgenevandChekhovandhadyearned romantically for the steppe, the immense land ocean which stretcheseast,unbounded,totheUralMountainsandthenendlesslyonacrossSiberia.AtMohrin,hewasactuallyon theedgeof thatocean.But theoceanseemed lessinspiring,here,thanithadseemedinLondon,tenyearsearlier.God,itwasflat.

Allthehousesofallthesevillageshaddoublewindows,tokeepoutthecoldof the long, terriblewinters.Now the springwas beginning—a short poignantepisodeofawareness,betweenthenumbnessofthesnowandthestuporofthesummerheat.Inthespringyoumightbecomefullyconsciousforafewweeks,look around you and decide to leave this village forever—or fall in lovewithsomeoneyouhadknownallyourlifeandstayherewithhimuntilyoudied.Thepoplars had new leaves and the lilac was coming into bloom. The ice wascracking on the Mohrinersee, the dull little local lake; it would be stored incellarstorefrigeratefoodduringthehotmonthsahead.Showersofrainfollowedeachother.Thesnowhadmelted intomud.Youcouldworkathomeand thenwalkaroundthelake,andthenhaveafewdrinksattheinn,andthencomebackhome.Oryoucouldomitthelake,ortheinn.Oryoucoulddrinkfirstandwalklater.Thatwas theextentofyourchoice.Wheneveryousteppedoutofdoors,afterthefirstweek,itwaswiththecertaintythatyouwouldnevermeetanybodywhose face you didn’t recognize. This was a place where, to use a favoriteexpressionofFrl.Thurau’s,“thefoxessaygoodnighttoeachother.”

As soon as Francis realized thatChristopher andHeinzwere going to bedtogether, he announced that Christopher must pay half of Heinz’s wages.Christopher agreed to this with more amusement than indignation; it was thewayFranciswas.HesaidnothingtoHeinz.ButErwin,whothoughtthatFranciswas being stingy andwhowas anyhow a bit of amischief-maker, toldHeinzwhathadhappened.Heinzwentoutsidethehouseandburstintotears.Itwashisdeclarationoflove.

Christopherhadnohesitation infalling in lovewithHeinz. Itseemedmostnaturaltohimthattheytwoshouldbedrawntogether.Heinzhadfoundhiselder

brother; Christopher had found someone emotionally innocent, entirelyvulnerableanduncritical,whomhecouldprotectandcherishashisveryown.Hewasdeeplytouchedandnot in the leastapprehensive.Hewasn’tyetawarethathewaslettinghimselfinforarelationshipwhichwouldbefarmoreseriousthananyhehadhadinhislife.

Heinzwas a slimboyof about seventeenwith largebrowneyes.His nosehadbeenbrokenwithabrickwieldedbyoneofhisagemateswhenhewasstillachild;ithadafunnybutattractivedipinthemiddle.Heinzhadsomedifficultyinbreathing through it.Thisnose, togetherwithhisbigprotruding lips, roundhead,andclose-curlinghair,gavehimasomewhatNegroidappearance.HewasdelightedwhenChristopher called himNiggerBoy, and he used to repeat thenickname tohimself, chuckling.His facewasyoungandgood-natured,withawidegrin,whenhewashappy.Whenhewasn’t,itbecameolderandyousawthegrimsullennessofthepeasant.Hehadn’tatalltheairofacitydweller.Heonlylooked at ease dressed inworking clothes, a thickmagenta sweater and a capwitha shinypeak,whichheworeonone sideofhishead; inhisbest suit,heseemeddisguisedandself-conscious.

Heinz’sfatherwasalivebutHeinzseldomsawhim.Hehadnobrothersorsisters,nogirlfriend,noparticularboyfriends.Helivedwithhisgrandmother,anoldladywholookedexactlyashewouldlookinhisseventies.Thegrandmotherhad a basement flatwhich she kept so hot that you began to sweatwhen youentered it. If anyone suggested opening a window, shewould growl, “I don’theatforthestreet.”

*

Francis soon got tired of Mohrin and began going off to Berlin for longweekends, taking Erwin with him. Thus Christopher found himself keepinghousewithHeinz.Thiswasakindofhappinesswhichhehadneverexperiencedbefore;henowrealizedthathehadalwaysdesiredit.UnlikeOtto,oranyoftheboyshehadknownfromthebars,Heinzactuallyenjoyedworkforwork’ssake.Nolover,howeverliterary,couldhavesharedChristopher’sworkwithhim.ButHeinzdidthenextbestthing;whileChristopherwrote,Heinzcollaboratedwith

himindirectlybysweepingthefloors,tidyingupthegarden,cookingthemeals.Whenever Christopher had written while Otto was nearby, he had beenconsciousofOtto’srestlessnessandboredomandhadfeltresponsibleforit.Hiseffort togoonwritingbecameanassertionofhiswillagainstOtto’s,althoughOttowasprobablyunawarethathewasinterferingwithChristopher’swork;hemerely wanted attention. As for Heinz, he was certainly quite unaware howmuch he was helping Christopher. This odd pair, enjoying these few days ofprivacyandoccupationwithpausesforeatingandmakinglove,wereabsurdlylikethemostordinaryhappilymarriedheterosexualcouple.

ThenFrancisandErwinwouldreturn,bringingwiththemoneormoreboysfrom theBerlinbars.Bynow,FrancisandHeinzhad takena rooteddislike toeachother.FrancisfoundfaultwithHeinzateveryopportunity;Heinzbecamesullen in his presence. Christopher retaliated by being unpleasant to Francis’sboys.Thisdidn’tcreateanyserioushostilitybetweenFrancisandChristopher;eachunderstoodtheother’smotivestoowell.FrancishadaskedChristophertocome with him toMohrin on the assumption that their life there would be adialoguebetweentwointimatefriends,withErwinandotheremployeeskeptinthe background, on an inferior level. Christopher had violated what FrancisregardedasanunspokenagreementbytreatingHeinzasanintimate.Francisfeltbetrayed,andChristopherdidn’tblamehim.

As the weeks passed, Francis and his household caused a scandal in thevillage,merely by being themselves. Someone denounced them to the police.Erwin the diplomatist prevented an official inquiry from being made. But itbecameobviousthattheywouldallhavetoleavebeforelong.

Meanwhile,StephenSpenderarrived inBerlinandcameout topay themashort visit. Christopher had tried hard to discourage him from doing this, butStephen had seemed unconscious of Christopher’s attitude. He hated havingStephen andStephen’s camera invade the scene of his love affairwithHeinz.Clickingthatcamera,Stephenseemedtomockandexposeyou,evenwhileheflattered you by his piercing curiosity. Jealously, almost superstitiously,ChristopherfearedthatStephenwouldsomehowalterhisimageinHeinz’seyesandmakeHeinzunable togoon lovinghim.(ItwasStephen,notChristopher,

whooughttohavesaid,“Iamacamera,”inthosedays.Nowwesurvivorscanfeelnothingbutgratitudetohimforhistirelessclicking.Hesavedsomanybitsofouryouthforus.)

StephensoonleftMohrin,however,andtherewasnoopenquarrel.Whenhehadgone,Christopherfeltimmediaterelieffromhisownfearsandaversion.Heeven regretted the loss of Stephen’s lively company and wrote to him in thenormaltoneoffriendship,describingthehumorsandhorrorsofcountrylife.Inview of Christopher’s ambivalent attitude, these letters now ring shockinglyfalse.

EarlyinJuly,theyweretogetheragain,backatSellinonRuegenIsland,withHeinzandwithStephen’syoungerbrother,Humphrey.Duringthisholiday,therewas less tension between them—largely because of Humphrey’s presence.Humphreywas a charming, easygoing, friendly youngman. Like Stephen, hewasaphotographer—soontobecomeprofessional—buthewasdefinitelynotacamera.Christophernever thoughtofhimasamenace tohis relationshipwithHeinz.Humphreywouldneverinvadeanybody’sprivacy.

Hedid,however,onceaskChristopheranunusualpersonalquestion;itwaswhile the two of them were out walking alone together. Humphrey saidsuddenly, “You speak German so well—tell me, why don’t you ever use thesubjunctivemood?”Christopherhadtoadmitthathedidn’tknowhowto.InthedayswhenhehadstudiedGerman,hehadleft thesubjunctivetobedealtwithlater,sinceitwasn’tabsolutelyessentialandhewasinahurry.Bythistime,hecouldhopthroughthelanguagewithoutitsaid,likeanagilemanwithonlyoneleg.But nowChristopher set himself tomaster the subjunctive.Very soon, hehaddoneso.Proudofthisaccomplishment,hebeganshowingitoffwheneverhetalked:“Haditnotbeenforhim,IshouldneverhaveaskedmyselfwhatIwoulddoiftheywereto—”etc.,etc.Humphreywasmuchamused.

SIX

OnAugust 4, 1932, Christopher began another visit to England. It was to bemadememorablebysomeoldfriendsandbysomenewones.HisfirstfewdaystherewerespentchieflywithJeanRoss—whohadnowleftGermanyforgood—or with HectorWintle, his friend since their schooldays at Repton and, for ashortwhile,his fellowmedical student. (Hector is calledPhilipLindsay inAlltheConspiratorsandPhilipLinsleyinLionsandShadows; theslightalterationwasmadebecausesomelibel-consciouslawyerfearedthattherepetitionoftheoriginalsurnamemightannoythenovelistPhilipLindsay.AsfarasIknow,Mr.LindsayneitherreadChristophernorcaredwhathewrote.)

ChristopherhadgrownaccustomedtothinkingofHectorasoneofhisleastfortunatefriends.Foryears,hehadhadtoporeovertextbooks,squeezethroughexaminations,andtoilatSt.Thomas’sHospitalamidstthesqualorofmoaning,messypatients.Hishearthadbeenweak,eversinceanearlyattackofrheumaticfever,andhehadbeentoldthatthetwingeshefeltinhisfingersweresymptomsof progressive rheumatoid arthritiswhichwould probably cripple him.Hectorwasno tightlippedmartyr.He complainedunceasingly andmost amusinglyofhisbadhealth,hislackofmoney,andhishatredofstudyingmedicine.Hewasoneofthoserarebeingswhocouldmakeyouthoroughlyenjoyhismisfortunesevenwhileyouweresympathizingwithhim.Christopherwouldlistentohimbythehourandalwaysfeelthebetterforit;Hector’splightmadehimgratefulforUncle Henry’s allowance and for his own irresponsible life. And Hector’sperseverance was inspiring. He had spent all his spare time steadily writingnovelsorpursuinggirls.Thenovels, so far,hadalwaysbeen rejected;Hector,himself, had seldom been. The novelswerewell written but a bit forbidding;Hectorwasaccessible,charming,andfullofsuave,plumpsexappeal.

Now,atlast,hehadfinishedwithSt.Thomas’sandwasabouttoembarkonhismaidenvoyageasaship’sdoctor.Theship—auspiciouslynamedtheHector—was bound for China and Japan. For the first time in their long friendship,Christopher envied him. A few weeks from now, theHector would actually,

unbelievably,beenteringHongKongharbor!Hector,withhisowneyes,wouldbehold thatmagic island—annexed to theempireofSomersetMaughamsinceitsoccupationbythecharactersofThePaintedVeil.Hectorhimself,loungingattherailinhiswhiteuniform,disdainfullyregardingthejunksandsampanswitha frown of studied sophistication, would at thatmoment become an honoraryMaughamcharacter,a juniorcolleagueofDr.Macphail inRain…Hectorwasentertained by Christopher’s fantasies, but being a realist, he was far moreexcited by the prospect of the affairs he hoped to be having with the ship’sfemalepassengers.

*

OnAugust12,ChristopherwenttotheHogarthPressforhisfirstencounterwithJohn Lehmann. (If Leonard and Virginia Woolf were somewhere around, hedidn’t get tomeet them,much to his disappointment.) In his autobiographicalbook, The Whispering Gallery, John writes warmly about his reaction toChristopher:“Itwasimpossiblenottobedrawntohim”;andhumorouslyaboutChristopher’ssupposedreactiontohimself:

Thesenseofalarmthatseemedtohangintheairwhenhissmilewasswitchedoff,asuspicionheseemedtoradiatethatonemightafterallbeinleaguewiththe“enemy”…

John’s intuition was correct. Christopherwas suspicious of and on his guardagainst this tall handsome young personage with his pale narrowed quizzingeyes,measuredvoicewhichmighthavebelongedtoaForeignOfficeexpert,andextremelybecoming,prematurelygrayhair—ahereditarycharacteristic.Seatedbehindhisdesk,Johnseemedtheincarnationofauthority—benevolentauthority,butauthority,nonetheless.WhatChristopherdidn’t,couldn’thaverealizeduntiltheykneweachotherbetterwasthatthispersonagecontainedtwobeingswhosedeepestinterestswereinconflict:aneditorandapoet.JohntheEditorwasalsoinconflictwiththepolicyoftheHogarthPress.Forhewasdestinedtobecomethegreatliteraryobstetricianofhisownage,tobringthewritingofthethirtiestobirth and introduce it to the world. The Woolfs belonged to the previous

generation,and theirpress,despite itsappearanceofchicmodernity, tended torepresentthewritingofthetwentiesandtheteens,eventhetens…Meanwhile,John the Poet simply wanted to write his poems, leading a life which wouldleavehimfreetodosoandtakingnomorethanacolleague’sfriendlyinterestinthe work of his contemporaries. He hated to waste precious time publishingbooks—even books by those he most admired—and he had no interest inexercising authority, however benevolent.Theworst enemies of John thePoetwerehisfriends,becausetheyselfishlyclamoredtobepublishedbyhim.

ThroughJohn,Christophergottoknowhissisters,Rosamond,Beatrix,and(slightly)Helen.Rosamond, likeJohn,wasprematurelygray; thisgaveher theglamour of an eighteenth-century lady with powdered hair. Kathleen laterdescribed Rosamond in her diary as “disturbingly beautiful.” I find thedescription odd. To Christopher, it seemed that Rosamond wore her beautymodestlyandwithhumor,asthoughshewereembarrassedatbeingoverdressed.ShewasequallymodestandhumorousabouttheenormoussuccessofhernovelDustyAnswer,whichhadbeenpublishedin1927.AfamousFrenchwriterhadsaid to her, “Thank you, madame, for existing”; Rosamond laughed as shequotedthis,andaddedapologeticallythattheFrenchversionwasfarsuperiortoherEnglish original.Christopher hadn’t caredmuch forDusty Answer, but hecouldconscientiouslysay,“Thankyou,madame,”forherInvitationtotheWaltz,which had appeared that year. Since praise of one’s latest novel is always thesweetest,theirfriendshipgotofftoagoodstart.ButRosamondremainedwithintheworldofhermarriageandhercountryhome.ItwasBeatrixwhowastoformamuch closer friendshipwith Christopherwhen she entered his Berlinworldthatautumn.

*

In the middle of August, Edward Upward came to spend a weekend withChristopher at Kathleen’s house. Christopher had seen him in Berlin at thebeginningofApril,onhiswaybackfromatourinSovietRussia.Edwardhadn’treturnedfromhistripanuncriticalravingRussophile;hewastooBritishforthat.But Christopher knew that he had been profoundly moved. What he had

glimpsedinRussialaymuchdeeperthananyvisualimpressionsofLenin’stomband the Red Square and the parades. It was the implication of the revolutionitself for the rest of theworld, including England. Instead of dwelling on thehuge triumphanteventsof1917,Edward’s imaginationhadbeenstirredby thedramaof a revolution’s tinyhiddenbeginnings.Thiswaswhathehadalreadyconveyedinhisextraordinaryshortstorycalled“Sunday.”

“Sunday” is the monologue of a downtrodden office employee—actuallyEdward, during a schoolmastering job at Scarborough—who, as he talks tohimselfabouthisfearsofhisemployersandthesystemtheyrepresent,graduallygatherscourageandentersintoanewaffirmative,aggressivemood:

It ismad to be content to hate every external danger, to be an ostrich, to accept any explanationwhichminimisestheimportanceofmaterialgainsorlosses,tofailtotrytofindarealsolution…Don’tflatteryourselfthathistorywilldieorhibernatewithyou;historywillbeasvigorousaseverbutitwillhavegonetoliveelsewhere…withpeoplewhoarenotcontenttosuppressmiseryintheirmindsbutaregoingtodestroythemoreobviousmaterialcausesofmiseryintheworld…

What made “Sunday” so intensely exciting to Christopher was Edward’sdeclaration that “history”—the force of revolutionary change—is at workeverywhere, even in thedullest, stuffiest,most reactionaryof settings, suchasthisseasideresort.Edward’smessagewas:“Politicsbeginathome.”Youdon’thave to hover nervously on the outskirts of some publicized foreignbattleground, likeBerlin. Justask theway toacertaincafé inyourown town.Behind it,youwill finda smallclubwhereCommunistmeetingsareheld.Goinside.Thatisthefirststepwhichthedowntroddenemployee,thediscontentedschoolmaster,musttake,ifhewantstobecomeoneofthosewithwhomhistoryhasgonetolive:

Atfirsthemayberegardedwithsuspicion,eventakenforapolicespy.Andquitenaturally.Hewillhave toprovehimself, toprove that he isn’t amereneurotic, anuntrustworthy freak. Itwill taketime.Butitistheonlyhope.Hewillatleasthavemadeastart.

Christopher was thrilled by the austerity of Edward’s tone. He was alsochilled—moresothanhewouldadmittohimself.Didhealreadyknowthathe

wouldnevertakethestreettothatcafé?What he did knowwas that the bondbetweenEdward andhimselfwas as

strongasithadeverbeen.Hehadonlytoread“Sunday”torealizethat.Edwardmight be forced, by the logic of his convictions, to condemn certain writerswhose style he had admired, on the ground that their ideas derived from adecayed social class. But the effort to find one’s own appropriate style, tosharpen the instrumentof one’s language—thatEdward couldnever condemn.Todosowouldbeagainsthisnature.AndnoCommunistcomradewouldevercomeasclosetohimasChristophercameintheirdiscussionsoftheproblemsofstyle;for,atheart,theparty-linermustdismisssuchproblemsassecondary,andthestudyofthem,ifpersistedin,asultimatelyescapist.Edwardwouldneverbeable to feel that.Thestyleof“Sunday”proved it.“Sunday”wasasessentiallyUpwardasanythinghehadeverwritten.

Christopheralsoknew—butIcannotsayhowconsciously,atthattime—thathisambiguouspositionasanoutsider,anon-joiner,wasvaluabletoEdward;itwassomethingwhichEdwardwouldhavetoreckonwith,fortherestofhislife.He might be forced to condemn Christopher but he could never absolutelydisownhim.Andtheirrelationship,embarrassingthoughitmightsometimesbetoEdward,wasgoingtohelpEdwardseehisownbeliefsinatruerperspective.

Olive Mangeot (Madame Cheuret in Lions and Shadows) had become aCommunist, largely throughEdward’s influence. Shewas now separated fromherhusband,André,andlivedwithherelder,nearlygrown-upson,Fowke.Heryoungerson,Sylvain,continuedtolivewithAndré.Olive’stransformationfromanapoliticalbohemiantoaselleroftheDailyWorkerandanactivememberofvariousleft-winggroupshadproducednonoticeablechangeinherpersonality.She was still her easygoing, relaxed yet energetic self. It was said that hermethod of weaning “the unclear” away from Trotskyism was positivelysoothing.OntherareoccasionswhenOlivecouldn’tclarifythemuddledmindsof“thetrotters,”sheappliedwhatshecalled“Mother’spainlesspurge,”withtheresult that theyfound themselvesseparatedfromthegroup, feelingbewilderedperhapsbutwithoutanyhardfeelingstowardher.

Fromthistimeonward,ChristophersawOliveveryoften,wheneverhewas

in England. She provided a club for him and his friends towhich he broughtnearly all his new acquaintances. Kathleen was rightly jealous of Olive’sinfluence over Christopher, but she didn’t really understand its nature. Olivewas, in a sense, a mother figure in Christopher’s life and, as such, a rival toKathleen.Butshewastotallyundemandingandunpossessiveandshenevertriedto influence him in any direction. They simply loved each other and wereprofoundlyateasetogether.Olive,heknew,wouldneverdisownhim,nomatterwhat he did.He had put her doubly intoTheMemorial—in the characters ofMargaret Lanwin (Olive as she thenwas) and ofMary Scriven (Olive as shemightbeinlaterlife).

*

InSeptember,WystancametoLondonforafewdays.Itmusthavebeenduringthis visit that he tookChristopher tomeetGeraldHeard and his friend,ChrisWood.

GeraldHeardwas thenaprominent figure in theBritish intellectualworld.HeknewmostoftheleadingscientistsandphilosopherspersonallyandhegaveBBCradiotalksexplainingthelatestfindingsofscienceinpopularlanguage.Hewas interested, agnostically, in the investigations of the Society for PsychicalResearch butwasn’t prepared to say that they had found definite evidence ofsurvival after death.Hehadwritten several bookson evolution andprehistoryand onewhichwas calledNarcissus: An Anatomy of Clothes. Gerald himselfobviouslygavethoughttowhathewore,andwouldsometimesdressinastylewhichwas slyly exotic.Hewas a slim, clean-shavenman in his early forties,withamelodious,faintlyIrishaccent.Christopherhadnevermetanybodyquitelikehim.Hewaswitty,playful,flattering,talkativeasamagpie,wellinformedas an encyclopedia, and, at the same time, life-weary, meditative, deeplyconcerned, and in earnest. Christopher’s instinct told him at once that Geraldwouldn’t be impressed by talk about Communism; here was a man to whompoliticalsystemsandtheorieswereirrelevantandofminorimportance.

ChrisWoodwas about ten years younger thanGerald; handsome, shy butfriendly, rich. He dressed simply, in clotheswhichwere of goodmaterial but

oftenshabby.HeinsistedoncyclingaboutLondon,despite theever increasingtraffic.Hecouldbecapriciouslyextravagant,buyingmusicalboxesandwatchesofexquisitedesign;thentiringofthemandgivingthemawaytohisfriends.Hehadrecentlyboughtatelescope—nodoubtbecauseGeraldtalkedsomuchaboutastronomy—but he only used it, now and then, to look into other people’swindowsandtrytoreadletterslyingontheirdesks.Heplayedthepianowellbutwithanobstinatedeterminationtoremainanamateur.Healsowroteshortstorieswhichshowedconsiderable talentbut shookhishead firmlywhenChristophertoldhimheshouldpublishthem.Hehadapilot’slicenseandhadflownasfarasBerlin.Geraldoftenwentflyingwithhim.ChrispraisedGerald’sfearlessnessontheseandotheroccasions.HetoldhowGeraldhadclimbedtothetopofahighbuildingunderconstruction,while itwasstillaskeletonofgirders, inorder tointerviewthesteeplejacksaboutthedangersoftheirprofession.

ChrisandGeraldhadoneoftheflatsinanewluxuryblockjustoffOxfordStreet. (Richard remembers thatChristopher described it to him,with enviousirony, as “the last thing in tastefulmodernity—theyhave a catwhich tones inperfectlywiththefurnishings.”)Itseleganceseemedtoinspireacertainguiltinbothof them.Chrisexpressedthisbybehavingas thoughhewerestayinginahotelsuiteforwhichhefeltnoresponsibilityandwhichhemightvacateinadayortwo.Geralddisclaimedhisresponsibilityinasubtlermanner,bygivingyoutounderstandthathewasn’tsharingtheplacewithChrisbutmerelyvisitingitforawhileasChris’sguest.WhenyoucametoseeChris,Geralddidn’twelcomeyoulikeaco-host;heremainedsomewhereoutofsight.Laterhemightpophisheadunexpectedlyaroundthedoorintothelivingroomwithanamusedgleaminhiseye,murmursomethingpolite,anddisappearagain.

Since Wystan was primarily Gerald’s friend, the two of them wouldwithdraw to Gerald’s room for abstruse scientific conversation, leaving ChrisandChristopheralonetogether.Thustheyquicklybecameintimate.ItmayevenhavebeenattheirfirstmeetingthatChriscoylyaskedChristopherifhehadbeenattheHirschfeldInstituteonsuchandsuchadate.Christophercouldn’tbesurebutthoughtitwasprobable.ChristhentoldhimthatthiswasthedayonwhichhehadvisitedtheInstituteandhadverybrieflyglimpsed,goingupthestaircase,

themostattractiveyoungmanhehadeverseeninhislife.Chrisimpliedthatthisyoungmanmight havebeenChristopher.He also implied thatChristopher, asChrisnowsawhim,wassadlyinferiortothatglimpse.Therefore,theattractiveyoungmanwaseitheranuntraceablestrangerwhomChriscouldneverhopetomeet again; or he was Christopher, in which case he didn’t exist … Chrischerished frustrations of this sort. He would gloat over the impossibility offinding the deliciousmarmaladewhich he had had for breakfastwhenhewassix.TheyoungmanonthestaircasewastobecomeaprivatejokebetweenChrisandChristopherformanyyears.

What struck you,when you sawGerald andChris together,was a kind offamily resemblance which was psychological rather than physical. It wasexpressedincertaingesturesandintonations—carefullyunemphatic,fastidiouslyunderstated. They stood side by side and looked at you like a pair of smilingconspirators. William Plomer somehow caught the effect they produced—onChristopher,atanyrate—whenhesaid,“Iliketheirdryeyesandvoices.”

*

Christopher had met William Plomer through Stephen Spender, who hadpreviously introduced him to some of Plomer’s poems and his stories aboutSouthAfrica and Japan. Christopher admired thework and soon he began toadmirePlomerhimselfevenmore.Hewasabigmanwithbigroundglassesandthe lookof a benignmuscular owl.His descriptions of peoplewerewitty andexact; once, he called someone “an art lout.” He seemed to take everythinglightly.Then,beneaththemaliceandfun,youbecameawareofanextraordinarystrength—astrengthwhichlentitselftoothers;itwashardtofeeldepressedorsorryforyourselfinhispresence.Youalsobecameawarethathisfunwasthatofapersonwhowascapableofintenseprivatesuffering.Therefore,itwouldneverseem trivial under any circumstances. He would have been wonderful in alifeboatwith the survivorsofa shipwreck.Tenyears later, itwouldbe saidofhimthathewasanidealcompanioninanairraid.

OnSeptember14,ChristopherwroteapostcardtoStephen—whomusthavebeenoutoftownforadayortwo:

Yesterdayevening,PlomerandIvisitedanopium-den.TodayheistakingmetoseeE.M.Forster.Ishallspendtheentiremorningmaking-up.

Ihaveonlythedimmestmemoryoftheallegedopiumden.Ithinkitwasapubsomewhere in thedocklandarea, frequentedby localChineseandvisitingAsian seamen. Plomer liked to keep the outskirts of his life hidden in anintriguingfogofmystery;nowandthenhewouldguideyouthroughthefogtoone of his haunts, with the casualness of a habitué. No doubt, opium wasobtainablethere,butIamsurethatheandChristopherdidn’tsmokeany…By“making-up”IsupposeChristophermerelymeantthathewouldtryineverywaytolookandbeathisbestforthistremendousencounter.

ItwastremendousforChristopher.Forsterwastheonlylivingwriterwhomhe would have described as his master. In other people’s books he foundexamplesofstylewhichhewantedtoimitateandlearnfrom.InForsterhefounda key to the whole art of writing. The Zenmasters of archery—ofwhom, inthose days, Christopher had never heard—start by teaching you the mentalattitude with which you must pick up the bow. A Forster novel taughtChristopherthementalattitudewithwhichhemustpickupthepen.

PlomerhadbeenabletoarrangethismeetingbecauseForsterhadreadTheMemorial—athissuggestion,probably—andhadlikedit,atleastwellenoughtobe curious about its author. (Thenceforward, Christopher was fond of saying,“Myliterarycareerisover—Idon’tgiveadamnfortheNobelPrizeortheOrderof Merit—I’ve been praised by Forster!” Nevertheless, Christopher’sconfidence in his own talent easily survived the several later occasions whenForsterdefinitelydidn’tlikeoneofhisotherbooksorwhenhepraisedbooksbywriterswhomChristopherfoundworthless.)

Forstermust have been favorably impressed byChristopher; otherwise, hewouldn’thavegoneonseeinghim.AndChristophermadeagooddisciple;likemostarrogantpeople,helovedtobowdownunconditionallyfromtimetotime.NodoubthegazedatForsterwithdevotedeyesandsethimselftoentertainhimwith tales ofBerlin and theboyworld, judiciously spicedwith expressionsofsocialconcern—forhemusthavebeenawarefromthestartthathehadtodeal

withamoralist.Forster never changed much in appearance until he became stooped and

feebleinhislateeighties.Hewasthenfifty-threebuthealwayslookedyoungerthanhisage.Andheneverceasedtobebabylike.Hislightblueeyesbehindhisspectacleswere like those of a babywho remembers his previous incarnationandismoreamusedthandismayedtofindhimselfreborninnewsurroundings.He had a baby’s vulnerability, which is also the invulnerability of a creaturewhomonedarenotharm.Heseemedtobeswaddled,babylike,inhisill-fittingsuitratherthanwearingit.Ababywithamustache?Well,ifababycouldhaveamustache, it would surely be like his was, wispy and soft … Nevertheless,behindthatcharming,unalarmingexterior,wasthemoralist;andthosebabyeyeslookedverydeep intoyou.When theydisapproved, theycouldbe stern.Theymade Christopher feel false and tricky and embarrassed. He reacted to hisembarrassment by trying to keep Forster amused. Thirty-eight years later, afriendwhowas present at the lastmeeting between themmade the comment:“Mr.Forsterlaughsatyouasifyouwerethevillageidiot.”

IsupposethatthisfirstmeetingtookplaceinForster’sflat,andthat,onthewall of its living room, there hung Eric Kennington’s pastel portrait of T. E.Lawrence’s bodyguard, quarrelsome little Mahmas, with his fierce eyes andnakeddagger.Thiswas the original of oneof the illustrations to the privatelyprinted edition ofSevenPillars ofWisdom. Lawrence had given copies of thebookawaytohisfriends,includingForster.Christopherlefttheflatclaspingthismagicvolume,whichForsterhadlenthim.

*

TowardtheendofChristopher’svisittoLondon,hislong-impendingshowdownwith Stephen Spender took place. Stephen gives an account of this inWorldwithinWorld.Hewrites thatChristophershowed irritationwithhimsoclearly,whentheyweretogetherataparty,thathewenttovisitChristophernextdayandsuggested that they should seenothing,orvery little,of eachotherwhen theyreturnedtoBerlin.Christopherrepliedin“accentsofironiccorrectitude”thathewasn’tawareofanystrainbetweenthem.Atthispoint,Ihaveamemoryofmy

own.Stephen,annoyedbyChristopher’sevasiveness,exclaimed,“Ifwe’regoingtopart,atleastlet’spartlikemen.”TowhichChristopherreplied,withabitchysmile, “But, Stephen, we aren’t men.” I can only assume that Stephen’schallengecaughthimunpreparedandthathewasplayingfortimetoprepareaself-justifying case. Later that day, he wrote Stephen a letter. Stephenparaphrasesitasfollows:

IfIreturnedtoBerlinhewouldnotdoso,thatmylifewaspoisontohim,thatIlivedonpublicity,thatIwasintolerablyindiscreet,etc.

Stephen thinks thatChristopherwas annoyed because he had reachedLondonbeforeChristopher and had told theirmutual friends allChristopher’s favoritestories, including several which he didn’t want to have broadcastindiscriminately. This is true, no doubt. But Christopher’s deeper motive inquarrelingwithStephenwastogethimoutofBerlinaltogether.Idon’tthinkheconsciouslyknewthisatthetime.Itisobvioustomenow.ChristopherregardedBerlin as his territory. He was actually becoming afraid that Stephen wouldscoophimbywritingBerlinstoriesofhisownandrushingthemintoprint!

Stephen andChristophermet again andmade up their quarrel even beforeChristopher returned to Berlin. Now that Christopher knew that Stephenwouldn’tbecomingbackthere,hewaseagerforatruce.HeneededStephen’sfriendship fully as much as Stephen needed his. Christopher tended to makefriendswithhismoralsuperiors.ItwasonlywithStephenthathehadfaultsincommon—whichwas relaxing and created a special kindof intimacy,when itdidn’tprovokecompetition.

*

FromthemiddleofAugustonward,Christopherhadbegunworkonwhatwastobe thevery firstdraftofhis fictionaboutBerlin.Thiswasashort storyor theoutline for a novel; its subject matter was Jean’s adventures combined withChristopher’s encounters with the Nowaks. It was as crude as his first draftsalwayswere.But it accomplished the enormous feat ofmaking this shapeless

blobofpotentialmaterialemerge“outoftheeverywhereintohere.”Hedictated the draft toRichard.Thiswas a supreme act of intimacy. It is

immeasurably more embarrassing for a writer to invent crudely in someoneelse’s presence than to confide tohim themost shameful personal revelations.Hecouldhavedoneitwithnooneelseheknew.IthinkRichardhimselfvaluedthisintimacy.Hepatientlywrotethewholethingoutinlonghand,onlyregrettingthat he couldn’t typewrite, because itmade the dictation slower.Theyworkedmostlyinthemorningsandhadfinishedinaboutfourweeks.

Their collaboration brought a feeling of subdued excitement into thehousehold.Something—nomatterexactlywhat—wasgoingonupstairs,behindChristopher’scloseddoor.Elizabeththecookwasawareofit.Nannythehouseparlormaid was part of it. She, who had been nurse to both brothers insuccession,nowrejoicedthatshewasoncemoreallowedtojoinintheirgames;shebroughtthemcupsofteaandansweredthetelephone,tellingcallersthattheycouldn’t be disturbed. As for Kathleen, what mattered to her was thatChristopher was functioning as a writer under her roof; this was a solidrespectable factwhich she could report to her friends.Kathleen felt a need—thoughshewouldneverhaveacknowledgedit—toreassureherselfbylookingatChristopher through the eyes of theoutsideworld. In this connection, the fewgood reviews of TheMemorial were like references and Christopher’s newlyacquiredliterarycolleagueswerelikesponsorswhoguaranteedhiscompetence.Thankstothem,ChristophertheWriterhadnowbeguntoseemrealtoKathleen;before them,hehadneverquiteexisted. (Wystan,Edward, andStephendidn’tand would never count as Christopher’s colleagues, from Kathleen’s point ofview;theyweremerelyschoolfriends.)

Christopher found Kathleen’s attitude ridiculous; but he himself wasenjoying his enhanced status. Itwas fun to be both the self-exiledmysterious“Man from Berlin” and the socially welcome novelist whose next book was“awaited,”even ifnotveryanxiously, inBloomsburycircles.However,aManfromBerlinshouldbe talkedabout rather thanseen—themystery issolvedbyoverexposure. And a next book is best awaited in its author’s absence.ChristopherleftEnglandagainonSeptember30.

SEVEN

FromForster,October12,1932:

Dear Isherwood—wedodrop“Mr.,”don’twe? Iwasveryglad tohave“All theConspirators.” Idon’tlikeitasmuchas“TheMemorial,”butthatisnotthepoint,andtherearethingsinitIdolikeverymuch…Ihopeyoufoundyourfriendbetterthanthenewssuggested.Itisanawfulworry,thatillness at this time of the year. I’m very sorry you’ve got this on you, and annoyed with Lifegenerally for being so often just wrong. Again and again the wonderful chariot seems ready tomove…

ThepeopleForsterapprovedofwerethosewhowerecapableofdevotiontoa friend and of suffering when he was sick or in trouble. Forster took it forgrantedthatChristopherwassuchaperson.Christophertriedhardtoliveuptothis image of himself. But Forster’s faith in him would often make him feelguiltyofcoldheartedness.

EdwardUpwardreported:

BacktodayfromlunchwithRichardandMa.Inotedthatshehadn’tyetheardofHeinzandIsaidnothing to enlighten her. But even if I had I don’t think she would have protested—it’s quiteastonishinghowyouhaveeducatedthatwoman.Iforeseeatimewhen,likethesonwhowassenttoAustraliaforstealing,youwillbeabletodonothingwrong.

Otto had had the power to make Christopher jealous and anxious. Heinzdidn’t yet have this power. While Christopher was in London, he had neverworriedthatHeinzmightleavehim;sohehadneverfelttheneedtotalkaboutHeinz to Kathleen. Hewas already closer to Heinz than he had ever been toOtto,buttheirrelationshipwasn’tpainful.Thishewaslearningtobegratefulfor—ashetoldStephenSpender:

IntheolddaysIwasobsessedwiththeideaofahightension!,extremedanger!relationship,whichgave off ten-foot sparks and electrocuted everyone in the neighborhood. Now I see that there’ssomething to be said for decency and a little mutual consideration and pleasantness. Thanks toHeinz.

Christopher’stoneisironicallyapologetic.Heisawarethathislovelifehasceasedtobegossip-worthy.Christopherhimselfwasakeenmatchmakerforhisfriends;buthequicklylostinterestifthematchturnedouttobeharmonious.

*

OnNovember3,ChristopherwrotetoStephen,whowasnowinSpain:

Hereweareverywetandchilly.AndthismorningBerlinhaswokenuptofindageneralstrikeoftrams, buses, and U-bahn. Nobody seems to know how long it will last. Probably till after theelections, I should think,onSunday.NazisandCommunistsareassistingeachotheron thestrikepickets.

TheNazishadforcedthemselvesintothisuneasytemporaryalliancebecausetheycouldn’tlettheCommuniststakecreditforbeingthesolesupportersofthestriking transport workers, just before an election. The strike resulted inwidespread public violence against strikebreakers and others. Christopherhimselfgotaglimpseof it,whichhedescribes inGoodbye toBerlin:ayoungmanbeingattackedon thestreetbyagangofNazis returning fromapoliticalrally. TheNaziswere carrying rolled bannerswith spikes on their ends. Theystabbedtheyoungmaninthefaceandlefthimwithoneeyeprobablyblinded.Halfadozenpolicemenstoodafewyardsaway,ignoringtheincident.

ChristophergoesontotellStephenthatGeraldHamiltonhasbeentoCoburgtobepresentat theweddingof theeldest sonof theCrownPrinceofSwedenandPrincessSybillaofCoburg.Duringthemarriagesermonthepreachersaid:“A people which has deprived its from-God-appointed rulers of employmentmust not wonder if the Heavenly Powers condemn its working classes tounemploymentalso.”Thiswasagracefulreferencetothevariousdeposedroyalpersons who were in the congregation. One of these was the exiled TsarFerdinand of Bulgaria, with whomGerald was staying. The tsar was fond ofGeraldandbestowedvariousdecorationsonhim, fromtime to time,whichhelater sold … Gerald, who seemed able to change worlds without the leastdiscomfort, had descended from these aristocratic heights to Berlin and hisproletarian boyfriend, an actor who was just then appearing in Gorki’s The

LowerDepths.Christopherdescribes theboyfriendasbeing“moreCommunistthanLenin.”HeusedtoreproveGeraldforcounterrevolutionarylaxityandself-indulgence.

Christopher’sletterconcludes:

Heinzisspottyandhismoustacheisquiteluxuriant.Toannoymeherefusestoshave.Weseeeachotherthreetimesaweekanditisalwaysverynice.Mynovelcreepsonandon.Ottoisgoingtohaveanotherchild.AndthePound.Andthisstrike.Andtherain.Andnofire.Nevermind,thisafternoonIshallgotothecinema.

IntheelectionsofNovember6,theNazislosttwomillionvotesandthirty-fourseatsintheReichstag,whiletheCommunistsgainedthreequartersofamillionvotesandelevenseats.Manyleftists,includingsomeexpertpoliticalobservers,believedthatHitlerwouldneverrecoverfromthissetbackandhadceasedtobeamenace.Christopher,wildwithjoy,wrotetohisfriendsthatBerlinwasRed.Itwas—inthesensethattheCommunistshadamajoritythereof100,000.ButthefactremainedthattheNaziswerestillthelargestpartyinthecountry.

*

About this time, Stephenmust havewritten to tell Christopher that hewasn’tgoing todedicatehisbookofpoems tohim,asoriginally intended.This letterhas been lost, but I suppose Stephen argued that, in view of their imperfectlypatched-up quarrel, the dedication would be insincere. Christopher answered(November14):

OfcourseIquiteunderstandaboutthededication.Infact,I’dhalfthoughtofwritingandsuggestingittoyoumyself.

Thisafternoonissadbrilliantautumnsunshine,thesortofafternoonwemighthavechosenforawalk inGrunewald, the sort of afternoon onwhichVirginiaWoolf looks out of herwindow andsuddenlydecides towriteanovelabout thehopeless loveofaPekingesedogforaverybeautifulmaidenhairfern.

(DespiteChristopher’sadmirationforJacob’sRoom,Mrs.Dalloway,andTotheLighthouse—whichwasconsiderable,thoughnotnearlyasgreatasmineis,today—he sometimes used Virginia as an enemy image of the ivory-tower

intellectual.Forinstance,afterheandStephenhadbeentoseeKameradschaft,Pabst’sfilmaboutthecoalminers,in1931,ChristophertoldStephenthat,whenthe tunnelcaved inand theminerswere trapped,hehad thought:“ThatmakesVirginia Woolf look pretty silly.” Stephen replied that he had been thinkingsomethingsimilar,thoughnotspecificallyaboutVirginia.)

HeinzandIwistfullylookedupMalagaonthemapanddecidedthat“someday”wewouldtravel—yesreally—perhapsevenasfarasMunich.

(Thereissomemildbitcheryhereandinthenextparagraph.Stephenisaboutto leave for Málaga—wandering through the warm lands of escape whileChristopherremainsshiveringandpennilessathispostontheBerlinbattlefield.)

TodayIammovingintothebigfrontroom.Itislighterforthewintermonthsand,forsomereason,easier toheat.Frl.ThurauisveryreproachfulbecauseI insiston turningoutallherpottedplants.TheirmoiststinkwhentheovenisalightisprobablyasnearasIshallevergettoatropicalforest.Idoenvyyouyourwinterinthesun.I imagineyouburstingintoblossomsofhealth,whilehereinBerlinIgetuglierandmoreshrivelledeveryday.Myhairisscurfyanddropsout,myteetharebad,mybreathsmells.However,Idoseethatit’sabsolutelynecessaryformetostayonhereatpresent.Thelastpartofmynovelrequiresalotmoreresearchtodocumentit.

Please understand, Stephen, that there is nothing for you to apologize for about our time inBerlin.Iamanentirelyimpossiblecharacter;unstable,ill-natured,pettyandselfish.Idon’tsaythisinamealy-mouthedway.Ihavethevirtuesofmydefects.ButIcan’timaginethatIevercouldorshouldbeabletoliveintimatelywithanequalforlong.

Christophermayhaveexplainedhimselffurther;thenextpageoftheletterismissing.Thefinalpagecontainsafewitemsofnews.FrauNowakisbeingsentbacktothesanatoriumagain.ChristopherhardlyeverseesOttobecausehehascutoffOtto’smoneyentirely—thismaymeanthatherefusestocontributetotheabortion of Otto’s illegitimate embryos. However, he has applied to WilfridIsrael, who may be able to get Otto a job as errand boy to a publisher.ChristopherhasbeentranslatingareportontheworkoftheI.A.H,aCommunistorganization with which Gerald Hamilton was involved. Christopher tellsStephen that he thinks hewill become amember of it—“it’s the next nearestthing tobeingaCommunist.”Christopherneverdid join the I.A.H,much less

theCommunistParty.Thiswastheonlytimeinhislifewhenhecameanywhereneartodoingso.

*

JohnLehmann’ssisterBeatrixwasnowinBerlinandsheandChristophersaweachother often.Theyweremuch alike in temperament, a natural elder sisterand elder brother. Both thought of themselves, rightly or wrongly, as strongpeoplewearyofguardingtheweak.Bothwerecomedianswhomadeeachotherlaugh continually: Beatrix with her gallows humor, Christopher with hismelodramatic clowning. Both, at that period, saw eye to eye politically. Bothsincerely admired each other’swork. Christopherwas astonished byBeatrix’stalentasawriterandhelovedtowatchheract.(Acharacteractresswithlookswhichenabledhertoplayromanticleads,shewasequallycapableofbecomingJulietorJuliet’snurse;theremight,however,beoccasionaleerieglimpsesoftheonewithintheother.)BothBeatrixandChristopherwerepsychosomatictypes,prone to sudden sicknesses. But here there was a difference between them.WhileChristopherstayedinbed,Beatrixwouldgoonstage,blazingwithfeverornearlyvoicelesswithlaryngitis,andsoartohergreatestheights.

MylastmemoryofBeatrixinBerlinisthatsheandChristopherspentNewYear’sEvetogetherataFrenchrestaurant,eatingSylvestercarp,thetraditionalNew Year’s Eve dish. They were so engrossed in their talk that they wereunaware of the moment at which 1933 came in. Someone remarked that thiswouldbringthembadluckintheyearahead.

*

Inmid-January,ChristopherwrotetoStephen,whohadnowreturnedfromSpaintoEngland:

IhaveputoffansweringyoubecauseofthereallyterrifyingreportsoftherevolutioninBarcelona.Didyouseemuchofit?Igatheredthatthepostsandallothercommunicationsweresuspended,thattherewasnolightandthatthestreetswerefullofmachineguns.Soitseemeduselesstowrite.

(ThisreferstotherisingofAnarchistsandSyndicalistswhichbeganearlyin

January in Barcelona and spread to other cities. It was suppressed bygovernment troops. Stephen hadn’t referred to it in his last letter, beingpreoccupied with a personal problem. He had been trying to keep the peacebetweensomeintenselyneuroticindividuals,oneofwhomwasanalcoholic.Helatermadetheirfeudsandagonieswellworthwhilebydistillingfromthemhishilariousstory,“TheBurningCactus.”)

BeatrixLehmannleavesonMondayforEngland,viaHamburg,wheresheisengagedtoappearwithsomeEnglishplayers,inthetitleroleofCandida.AsforHeinz,wegetonverywellindeed.Atthemoment,we’vejustpartedforever,butthatisneitherherenorthere.

Frl.Thurauhasanewlodger,aNorwegian filmactorwith incrediblybeautifulblondhair.HeplaysacardgamecalledBlackPeterwithFrl.Thurauandthetwowhores.Theloserhassomekindofindecentpicture—acuntorpenisorbubs—drawnonhischeekwithaneyebrowpencil.Bytheendoftheeveningtheyareallblack-faced.

Thepoliticalsituationhereseemsverydull. Iexpect there isagreatdealgoingonbehind thescenes,butoneisnotawareofit.PapenvisitsHindenburg,HitlervisitsPapen,HitlerandPapenvisitSchleicher,HugenbergvisitsHindenburgandfindshe’sout.Andsoforth.There isno longer thatslightlyexhilaratingawarenessofcrisisinthegesturesofbeggarsandtram-conductors.

Shortlyafterwritingtheabove,ChristophergothiscopyofStephen’spoems.The book wasn’t dedicated to anybody, but Stephen had inscribed it: “ForChristopher in admirationandwith love from thewriter Jan101933.” (Whenthesecondeditionappearedin1934,itwasdedicatedtoChristopher.)

ThankingStephen,Christopherwrote:

I think the print andbinding is perfect. I feel nearly as pleasedwith the book as if I’dwritten itmyself—andkeeptakingitoutoftheshelfandturningoverthepages.Theblurbisportentoustripe.Whatidiotwroteit?

(ThisblurbhadalreadybeenapologizedforbyStepheninanearlier letter:“It seems tohavebeenwrittenoutofpuremaliceandI’mafraid itwillannoyWystan.”Herearesomeextracts:

If Auden is the satirist of this poetical renascence Spender is its lyric poet. In his work theexperimentalismofthelasttwodecadesisbeginningtofinditsreward…Technically,thesepoemsappear to make a definite step forward in modern English poetry. Their passionate and obvioussincerityrankstheminatraditionwhichreachesbacktotheearlyGreeklyricpoets.)

Christophercontinued:

I still stick tomy favorites:ThePort.Childrenwhowere rough.Ohyoungmen.After theyhavetired.And,aboveall,ThePylons.ThePylonsisthebestthinginthebook,Ithink.

(I don’t agree with the majority of Christopher’s choices, now. He wascharmed by Stephen’s left-wing romanticism, with its accent on Comrades. Iprefertheexplosiveegotisticartlessnessofthe“Marston”poems;asIreadthem,I can hear the young Stephen’s voice, blurting them out. This book alsocontained: “I think continually of thosewhowere truly great…,”which endswithwhatwastobeoneofSpender’smostquotedlines:“Andleftthevividairsignedwiththeirhonour.”IfindthatIstillwanttoboastofthefactthat,whenStephenshowedChristopherhisoriginaldraftofthispoem,itended:“Andleftthe air signed with their vivid honour.” It was Christopher who urged thetranspositionof“vivid.”)

Here it is very cold and snowing. I amwriting with a rug roundmy knees. Uncle has sent myallowance.SoLondonwillnotseemeforthreemoremonths,atleast.Heinzcookedaschnitzelherelastnight.Godknowswhathedidtoit.HemadeitsmelllikeanAiredaledog.

At the endof January, JohnLehmann came toBerlin to seeChristopher.Thiswas his second visit. His first had been a brief one, during October 1932.Lehmannhadnow,aftermuchself-searching,lefttheHogarthPressandgonetoliveinVienna,inorderthatJohnthePoetcouldfunctionwithoutobligationsandrestraints.ItwaswithJohnthePoetthatChristopherbecamefriends.Whentheywere together,Christopher felt inspired to improvisesexfantasiesof indefinitelength—episodeleadingintoepisode,ArabianNightsstyle,sometimesforhoursat a stretch.His affection for John thePoetbecame so firmlyestablished that,when John theEditor later reappeared,Christopherwas able towork for him,admirehisability,andfeelawedbyhisenergy,whilestillfindinghispersonalitycomic.JohnthePoetwasalwaysthereinthebackground,sharingChristopher’samusement.

*

OnJanuary30,PresidentHindenburgappointedHitlertobethenewChancellorof Germany. A huge torchlight procession of singing Nazis celebrated thistriumph of backstairs intrigue and manipulation of the gaga old President.ChristopherwrotetoStephen:

Asyouwillhaveseen,wearehavinganewgovernment,withCharlieChaplinandFatherChristmasintheministry.Allwordsfail.

By“FatherChristmas,”ChristophermayhavemeanteitherHindenburghimselfor Alfred Hugenberg, the Nationalist Party leader, Hitler’s temporary ally.Hugenbergwasthennearlyseventy,sohequalifiedfortherole…Christopher,like other optimistic ill-wishers, kept repeating that this appointment was ablessingindisguise;Hitlerwouldnowhavetocopewiththeeconomicmess,hewouldrevealhimselfasanincompetentwindbag,hewouldbeforcedtoresign,andtheNaziswouldbeforeverdiscredited.

Idon’tblameChristophertheamateurobserverforhislackofforesight.IdocondemnChristopherthenovelistfornothavingtakenapsychologicalinterest,long before this, in themembers of theNazi high command. Even as late as1932, itwouldhavebeenpossible forhim tomeet thempersonally.Goebbels,the party propagandist, was obliged to make himself available to the foreignpress. And it wasn’t too difficult to arrange interviews with Goering or evenHitler. Christopher wasn’t Jewish, he belonged to the Nazis’ favorite foreignrace, he spoke German fluently, he was a writer and could easily have beenaccepted as a freelance journalist whom they might hope to convert to theirphilosophy…What inhibited him?His principles? His inertia? Neither is anexcuse. Hemissed what would surely have been one of themostmemorableexperiencesofhisBerlinlife.

*

OnFebruary27,theNaziscausedtheReichstagbuildingtobesetonfire.Then,accusing the Communists of having done it as a signal for an uprising, theydeclaredastateofemergencyandbeganmakingmassarrests.“CharlieChaplin”

hadceasedtobefunny.

*

Stephenwrote(March1):

ThenewsfromGermanyisawful.[Abigdeletion.]No,perhapsIhadbetternotsayanythingthatmightconceivablygetyouintotrouble.Oristhisaridiculousfear?

Stephen was back in London, suffering from a tapeworm which he hadpickedup inSpain.Theproblem, in removinga tapeworm, is toget ridof itshead,whichhooksitselftotheliningofthealimentarycanalandhangson,evenwhentheentirechainofsegmentsattachedtoithasbeenevacuated.Sometimestheheadcan’tbefoundinthestoolsothedoctordoesn’tknowifithasbeenlostorisstillinsidethepatient.ChristopherboughtaparticularlyrepulsivepostcardphotographoftheheadofGoebbelsandsentittoStephen,inscribed:“Canthisbeit?!!!”

Ihavebeeninbedfourdaysreceivingpurgativesofthemostpowerfulkindandpracticallystarving.SopleaseexcusemywritingasIamweakandtremblingwithjoyatyourletter.

(Christopher’sjoy-inspiringlettermusthavebeenwritteninanswertooneofStephen’s which has been lost. Stephen had evidently expressed fears that acertainperson,amemberofthe“BurningCactus”groupwhohadbeenwithhiminSpainandhadnowcometoBerlin,wasmakingmischiefandtryingtorevivethequarrelbetweenhimandChristopher.Stephen, inhis tapeworm-weakened,hyper-emotional state, is trembling with joy because Christopher’s letter hasassuredhimthatthisisn’tso.)

Ihadkeptworryingduringthelastfewdayslestwemighthaveanotherestrangement.WhenIwasfirstinBarcelonaIwasawfullyupsetaboutourquarrelandIcouldnotgetoutofmyheadtheletteryouwrotemeinLondon…IdidnotfeelbitteroranythingbutIhadwavesofbeingveryupsetandthenatothertimesIhadwavesoffeelingjustthesameandIusedtowaitforthosetimestowritetoyou.

Asfarasourfriendshipisconcerned,itisnotexactlythatIwanttobewithyouorseeyouverymuch.Ofcourse,whateverhappens,IshallgoonlivingjustinthesamewayandIshallgoonwith

mywork,butifIfeltyouhadabandonedtheirritating,continualefforttolovemeandforgivemeIwouldbeverydisappointed:infactmuchmorethanthat.YouandF.arethepeopleImostlike.ForF.everything’ssimpleandthereisnoconflict.Withyouitisdifferent,butinspiteofeverythingyouarealwaysfightingandthereissomethingveryclearinmypictureofyou.

LovetoHeinzwhomIamgladyouarealwayswith.Iamwriting3storiesandlotsofpoems.Iam24!

IntheelectionsofMarch5,theNazisfailedtowinaclearmajority,despitetheircampaign of propaganda and intimidation. But their failure had no practicalsignificance.For, onMarch23, theReichstagwasbullied intopassing the so-called Enabling Act, which made Hitler master of Germany. In a mad,meaninglessway,hissuccessivestepstowardabsolutepowerhadallbeenlegal.

Aftertheelections,theweatherturnedsuddenlymildandwarm;theporter’swifeatNollendorfstrasse17calledit“Hitler’sweather.”Thestreetitself,likeallothers, was hung with black-white-red swastika flags; it was unwise not todisplay them. Uniformed Nazis strode along the sidewalks with stern officialexpressions on their faces; it was advisable to step aside for them. They alsocameintothecafésandrestaurants,rattlingcollectingboxesfortheparty;itwasnecessarytogivethemsomething.OntheNollendorfplatzandinothersquaresand public places, there were radio loudspeakers blaring forth speeches byGoeringandGoebbels.“Germanyisawake,”theysaid.Peoplesatinfrontofthecafés listening to them—cowlike,vaguelycurious,complacent,acceptingwhathadhappenedbutnottheresponsibilityforit.Manyofthemhadn’tevenvoted—howcouldtheyberesponsible?Thecitywasfullofrumorsaboutwhatwentonbehindthescenes,intheStormTroopbarracks,wherethepoliticalprisonershad been taken. It was said that some were made to spit on Lenin’s picture,swallow castor oil, eat old socks; that some were tortured; that many werealready dead. The government denied all this, furiously. Even to repeat suchrumorswastreason.Newwaysofcommittingtreasonkeptbeingannouncedinthepress.

Some foreign journalists—those who were openly critical of the Nazigovernment—usedtodinetogether,mostevenings,atasmallItalianrestaurant.Among themwasNormanEbbuttof theLondonTimes.Everybodyelse in the

restaurant,includingatleastonepolicespy,watchedthemandtriedtooverhearwhattheyweresaying.IfaGermanwentuptotheirtableandtalkedtothem,hewasprettysuretobequestionedbythepolicelater.

Oneday,ayoungmancametoseeChristopherattheNollendorfstrasse.Heknewanescapedeyewitnesswhocoulddescribeconditionsinthebarracksandgive the names of prisoners there; hewanted this to be published outside thecountry. Christopher had got to know Ebbutt, so he went to him with theinformation.Ebbutthadalreadymadehimselfunpopularwiththeauthoritiesbyhisrevelations;evenhisowneditorwasworriedabouthisfrankness.TheNazisfinallyexpelledhim.

Most of Christopher’s Jewish friends had left Germany or were about toleave.Dr.Hirschfeldhadbeenawayonaworld toursince1930.The tourhadendedinFrance,whereheremained,knowingthatitwouldbefatalforhimtoreturn.KarlGiesehadjoinedhimthere.ChristophermusthavemadesomeefforttocontactWilfrid Israel—halfhearted,nodoubt.Aside fromanycowardicehemayhavefelt,hewasawarethathemightcompromiseWilfridevenfurther—ifthat were possible; “foreigner” was already becoming a dirty word, andChristopherwasaforeignerwhomustcertainlybelistedinthepolicearchivesas amember of theHirschfeldHomosexuals and theHamilton Reds. (GeraldHamilton himself had already been closely cross-examined by the politicalpoliceandhadhastenedtoleavethecountry.)

When the Nazis held their first boycott of Jewish businesses on April 1,Christopher went to see what was happening to the Israels’ department store.Nothingmuch,itappeared.TwoorthreeuniformedStormTrooperswerepostedat each of the entrances. Their manner wasn’t at all aggressive; they merelyreminded each would-be shopper that this was a Jewish store. (In the smallprovincial towns, where everybody knew everybody and personal hates werefierce, therewerewindowsmashings,andshopperswereforciblydisgracedbybeingmarkedwith rubber ink stamps on their foreheads and cheeks.)Quite anumber of people did go into Israel’s while Christopher was there, includingChristopher himself. When he came out again, having made some tokenpurchase,herecognizedoneoftheboysattheentrance.Theykneweachother

fromtheCosyCorner.Duringthepastyear,politicshadincreasinglydividedthebar boys. They had joined one or other of the street gangs which wereencouraged, though not always officially recognized, by the Nazis or theCommunistsortheNationalists.Nowthenon-Naziswereindanger,butmanyofthem changed sides andwere accepted. If you did get beaten up, itwasmorelikely to be because you had a private enemy; thiswas a great opportunity tosettleoldscores.

Boybarsofeverysortwerebeing raided,now,andmanywereshutdown.ChristopherhadlosttouchwithKarlGiese’sfriends.Nodoubttheprudentoneswerescaredandlyinglow,whilethesillyonesflutteredaroundtownexclaiminghowsexytheStormTrooperslookedintheiruniforms.HeknewonlyonepairofhomosexualloverswhodeclaredproudlythattheywereNazis.Misledbytheirown erotic vision of a New Sparta, they fondly supposed that Germany wasentering an era of military man-love, with all women excluded. They wereaware,of course, thatChristopher thought themcrazy,but theydismissedhimwith a shrug. How could he understand? This wasn’t his homeland … No,indeed itwasn’t.Christopherhad realized that for some timealready.But thistragicpairofself-deceiversdidn’trealize—andwouldn’t,untilitwastoolate—thatthiswasn’ttheirhomeland,either.

*

OnApril 5, Christopherwent to London, takingwith him books, papers, andother belongingswhich hewanted to store inKathleen’s house before he leftGermanyforgood.

Francis hadwritten invitingChristopher andHeinz to join him inGreece,wherehewasabouttohaveahousebuiltforhimself.HehadalsoinvitedErwinHansen and Erwin had agreed to come. Christopher still hesitated. PartlybecauseherememberedwhatlifewithFrancishadbeenlikeatMohrin,butmoreimportantlybecausehewasunwillingtooptforoneparticularplace.Themereideaoftravelexcitedhimsomuch,atthistimeinhislife,thathelovedtoenjoyit in the abstract, as an embarrassment of possibilities. This enjoyment hadceasedtobemeredaydreaming;forChristopherhadjustinheritedasmalllegacy

from his godmother, Aggie Trevor (seeKathleen and Frank). He could nowafford tospendasummeranywhere inEuropeor takea short trip farther still.AccordingtoaletterfromForster,ChristopherwasevenconsideringBrazil.

DuringhisstayinLondon,ChristopheragaindictatedtoRichard.Thismusthavebeenarevisedandlongerversionoftheothermanuscript.Kathleen’sdiarynotesthathefinishedthefirstpartofitafewdaysbeforeheleft,andshoweditto EdwardUpward. Shementions visits to the house by Bubi (whowas thenworkingonaDutchfreighterwhichsmuggledJewishrefugeesintoEngland,oneon each voyage), by Gerald Hamilton (“He wears a wig and has had anextremelyadventurouslife!”),andbyForster(whosenameKathleenunderlines,evidentlyasamarkofherspecialrespect).

ItwasatthistimethatForstershowedChristopherthetypescriptofMaurice.Christopher felt greatly honored, of course, by being allowed to read it. Itsantique locutionsbotheredhim,hereand there.WhenAlecspeaksofsexwithMaurice as “sharing,”hegrimacedandwriggledhis toeswith embarrassment.Andyetthewonderofthenovelwasthatithadbeenwrittenwhenithadbeenwritten;thewonderwasForsterhimself,imprisonedwithinthejungleofpre-warprejudice,puttingtheseunthinkablethoughtsintowords.Perhapslisteningfromtimetotime,togivehimselfcourage,tothefarawaychop-chopofthosepioneerheroes,EdwardCarpenterandGeorgeMerrill,boldlyenlargingtheirclearinginthe jungle. Carpenter and Merrill had beenMaurice’s godparents. Merrill, asForsterwas later to disclose, hadpsychophysically inspiredhim towrite it bytouchinghimgentlyjustabovethebuttocks.(Forster—howcharacteristically!—comments,“Ibelievehetouchedmostpeople’s.”)

DidChristopherthinkMauriceasgoodasForster’sothernovels?Hewouldhavesaid—andIstillagreewithhim—thatitwasbothinferiorandsuperiortothem: inferior as an artwork, superior because of its purer passion, its frankerdeclarationof its author’s faith.ThismovedChristopher tremendouslyon thatfirstreading.

At theirmeeting in 1932, theMaster had praised the Pupil. This time, thePupilwasbeingaskedbytheMaster,quitehumbly,howMauriceappearedtoamemberofthethirtiesgeneration.“Doesitdate?”Forsterwasasking.Towhich

Christopher,Iamproudtosay,replied,“Whyshouldn’titdate?”Thiswaswiseand true as well as encouraging, and it cheered Forster greatly. He toldChristophersoinasubsequentletter.

Mymemory sees them sitting together, facing each other. Christopher sitsgazingat thismasterof theirart, thisgreatprophetof their tribe,whodeclaresthattherecanbereallove,lovewithoutlimitsorexcuse,betweentwomen.Hereheis,humbleinhisgreatness,unsureofhisowngenius.Christopherstammerssomewordsofpraiseanddevotion,hiseyesbrimmingwithtears.AndForster—amusedandtouched,butmoretouchedthanamused—leansforwardandkisseshimonthecheek.(Nevertheless,hecontinuedtocallChristopher“Isherwood”fortwomoreyears.)

Almost every time they met, after this, they discussed the problem: howshouldMaurice end? That the ending should be a happy one was taken forgranted;Forsterhadwritten thenovel inorder toaffirmthatsuchanending ispossibleforhomosexuals.Butthechoiceofafinalsceneremainedopen.Shouldit be a glimpse of Maurice and Alec enjoying a life of freedom, outside thebounds of society? Should it be Maurice’s good-humored parting from hisfaithlessformerlover,Clive:“Whydon’tyoustopbeingshockedandattendtoyour own happiness?” Christopher wasn’t satisfied with either ending. (Thesecond was the one finally adopted.) He made his own suggestions—as didseveralofForster’sotherfriends.Helovedthiscontinuingdiscussion,simplyasagame.

*

WhenChristopherreturnedtoBerlinonApril30,hewasanxioustogetoutofGermany again, as quickly as possible. Since an itinerary of the journey toGreecehadalreadybeenplannedforErwinbyFrancis,heacceptedthisas thewayof leasteffort anddecided togo there too—atany rate, fora start.Whilestill in London, he had heard that the Berlin police had arrested threeEnglishmen,allofthemEnglishteachers.(Kathleen’sdiarydoesn’ttellwhatthechargeagainstthemwas;Isuspectthatitwashomosexuality.)Also,Frl.Thurauhadwrittenthatthepolicehadcalledtoquestionherabouthim,sayingthatthis

wasmerely a routine checkup. Christopher’s common sense assured him thattherewasnoneedtobeseriouslyafraid.Eveniftheworstcametotheworst,hewouldn’t fall into thehandsof theNaziStormTroopers; foreignersweredealtwith by the police, who treated you with respect for your civil rights. Theywouldmerelyinformhimthathewasanundesirablealienandexpelhimfromacountrywhichhewasonlytooeagertoleave.

Nevertheless, there was terror in the Berlin air—the terror felt by manypeoplewithgoodreason—andChristopherfoundhimselfaffectedbyit.Perhapshewas also affectedbyhis own fantasies.Hehad alwaysposed a little to hisfriends inEnglandasanembattledfighteragainst theNazisandsomeof themhadencouragedhimjokinglytodoso.“Don’tgetkilledbeforeIcome,”EdwardUpward had written, “I’ll see you unless you’ve been shot by Hitler.” NowChristopherbegan tohavemildhallucinations.Hefancied thatheheardheavywagonsdrawingupbefore the house, in themiddle of the night.He suddenlydetected swastika patterns in the wallpaper. He convinced himself thateverythinginhisroom,whateveritssuperficialcolor,wasbasicallybrown,Nazibrown.

*

Christopher had much more cause to worry on behalf of his two intendedtraveling companions. German citizens now had to get individual permits toleave the country. It was possible, though unlikely, that Heinz would havedifficulty.ButErwinHansenmightwellberefusedandperhapsarrestedintothebargain,asaCommunistandasanemployeeoftheHirschfeldInstitute.Erwinsmiled at Christopher’s fears, saying that the Nazis were too busy to botheraboutsmallfrysuchashimself.(Adangerouslyoptimisticnotion,fortheTerrorwas still badlyorganized and thereforeunpredictable in its choiceof victims.)Meanwhile,untilhecouldstartforGreece,ErwininsistedoncontinuingtoliveattheInstitute,asitsjanitor.

OnMay6, theInstitutewasraidedbyapartyofaboutahundredstudents.Theyarrivedintrucks,earlyinthemorning,playingabrassband.Hearingtheband, Erwin looked out of a window and—hoping to prevent some of the

obviously impendingdamage—askedthempolitely towaitamomentwhilehecame downstairs to unlock the doors. But the students preferred to enter likewarriors;theysmashedthedoorsdownandrushedintothebuilding.Theyspentthemorningpouring inkovercarpetsandmanuscriptsand loading their truckswithbooksfromtheInstitute’slibrary,includingmanywhichhadnothingtodowithsex:historicalworks,artjournals,etc.Intheafternoon,atroopofS.A.menarrived and made a more careful search, evidently knowing what they werelooking for. (It hasbeen stated, since then, that somewell-knownmembersofthe Nazi Party had previously been patients of Hirschfeld and that they wereafraid that case histories revealing their homosexualitymight be used againstthem. But, if this was so, theywould surely have had the Institute’s archivesexaminedmorediscreetly.Christopherwaslatertoldthatallthereallyimportantpapersandbookshadbeen removedby friendsofHirschfeldandsentabroad,sometime before this.)A fewdays after the raid, the seized books and paperswerepubliclyburned,alongwithabustofHirschfeld,onthesquareinfrontoftheOperaHouse.Christopher,whowaspresent in the crowd, said, “Shame!”;butnotloudly.

The government then formally deprived Hirschfeld of his Germancitizenship.HewaslivinginNiceandplanningtoreopentheInstitutethere.Buthediedbeforehecoulddoso,onMay15,1935.Afterhisdeath,KarlGieseleftFranceandwenttoCzechoslovakia.In1936,hekilledhimself.

*

“I’msureIdon’tknowwhatmakesyouwanttoleaveBerlinallofasudden,likethis,” Frl. Thurau toldChristopher sadly,with perfect sincerity. She,who hadvoted Communist—because of Christopher’s urging—in the November 1932elections,nowcalledHitler“DerFuehrer”whenshetalkedtotheporter’swife.Afterall,likemillionsofothers,shehadtogoonlivinginGermanyandmakingthe best of it, no matter who was in power. She would remain what sheessentially was, a sweet, muddled victim of her rulers—guilty only byassociation with them—no more and no less of a Nazi than she had been aCommunist.

When John van Druten wrote I Am a Camera, he thought it dramaticallynecessarytomakehishithertosympatheticlandladycharacterspeakoutagainsttheJews,inthelastact.HewantedtoshowthatshewasbecominginfluencedbyNazipropaganda.HealsowantedtogivetheChristophercharacterachancetorebuke her severely, thereby demonstrating the awakening of his conscience.Christopherapprovedthelogicofthis,whilefindingtheChristophercharacter’sconsciencesomewhatnauseating;itwassopleasedwithitsownearnestness,sopreachy.And he squirmedwhen theChristopher character had hismoment ofnobility, fistfighting theNazis.But to protestwould have been ungrateful.Hehadput himselfwillingly andgladly intovanDruten’s hands.AndhehimselfcouldneverhavemadeanacceptableBroadwayplayoutofthismaterial.

Nevertheless,hewasconcernedaboutFrl.Thurau.ShemightonedayseeIAmaCamera.(ItwasinfacttranslatedandperformedinGermany.)ShemightthinkthatChristopherwasaccusingherofanti-SemitismthroughvanDruten’smouth, and be deeply hurt. Even if she had attacked the Jews—she is nevermadetodosointhenovels—itwouldhavebeenutterlyindecentforChristopherto have played her prosecutor. He therefore asked van Druten to change thelandlady’s name from Schroeder (as in the novels) to Schneider. Christophertriedtoconvincehimselfat thetimethat thisminoradjustmentwouldreassureFrl.Thurauthatthelandladyintheplaywasn’tintendedtobeaportraitofher,as Frl. Schroederwas… It is painfully clear tome now that thiswas one ofthosecompromiseswhichprivateguiltmakeswiththeboxoffice.

InFebruary1952,ChristopherreturnedtoBerlinonashortvisit,forthefirsttimesincethewar.WithHeinzandHeinz’swife,hewenttoseeFrl.Thurau.ShewasstilllivingontheNollendorfstrasse,butinamuchsmallerflat.Thereweresmashedbuildings along the familiar street andmost of thehouse frontswerepittedbybombfragmentsandeatenbydecay.Christopherhadn’tannouncedhisarrivalinadvance,andnowhefeltsuddenlyafraidthattheshockofseeinghimmight upset her. He asked Heinz and his wife to go upstairs ahead of him.Standingbackintheshadowsofthestaircase,helistenedtoHeinzgreetingFrl.Thurauandthenstartingtobreakthenews…We’veheardChristophisbackinEngland… He might be coming over here, they say… Very soon…Who

knows, perhaps he’s here already?… Frl. Thurau had guessed, by this time.WhenChristopherappeared,sheutteredatremendousscream,ascreamworthyofTristanandIsolde,equallyappropriate fordeathorbliss. Itmusthavebeenheardalloverthebuilding.

As was to be expected, she was now enthusiastically pro-American; theNollendorfstrassewas in theAmerican occupation sector.Her feelings towardthe Russians were mixed. She spoke of their politics with conventionaldisapproval and of their sexual appetites with grudging respect. Immediatelyafterthewar’send,shehadmetmanyRussiansoldiers.“EverytimeIwentouton the street they’d be after me,” she told Christopher, with a certaincomplacency.“SoIusedtoscrewupmyeyes—likethis—andmakeahumponmyback,andlimp.Yououghttohaveseenme,HerrIssyvoo.TheneventhoseRussiansdidn’twantmeanymore.Ilookedlikearegularoldhag!”Shelookedbetternow,inherseventies,thanshehadinherfifties—despiteallshehadbeenthrough. Christopher asked her about the bombing. “Oh, the last year wasterrible!Wewereinthecellarnearlyallthetime.Weusedtoholdeachotherinourarmsandsayatleastwe’dalldietogether.Icantellyou,HerrIssyvoo,weprayedsomuchwegotquitereligious!”

Whentheysaidgoodbye,Frl.Thuraugavehimthebrassdolphinclockstand,holdingaclockon its tail,which isdescribed inGoodbye toBerlin and aboutwhich “Isherwood” asks himself: “What becomes of such things? How couldtheyeverbedestroyed?”Apropheticcomment—forabombblasthadhurleditacross the room and only slightly scratched its green marble base. It standstickingawayonmydesk,asgoodasnew,whileIwritethesewords.

EIGHT

ChristopherhadtoldStepheninaletter:

IfwedogotoGreece,IshallwriteabookasmuchlikeHindooHolidayaspossible.Thiswillpayforeverythingforthenexttenyears.

JoeAckerley’sHindooHolidayhadbeenpublishedin1932.HewasaclosefriendofForsterandofPlomer,butIdon’tthinkChristopherhadmethimyet.ChristopherhadadmiredHindooHolidayandwasn’tintendingtosneeratit.Allhemeantbyhis remark toStephenwas thathewanted towritea light, funny,salabletravelogue.

Now,onthepointofdeparture,Christopherstartedadiary,inthehopethatitwouldprovidehimwithmaterialforthisprojectedbook.

May13,1933. It is aquarterpastmidnight and Ihave just finishedpacking. In eighthours I amgoingtoleaveBerlin,perhapsforever.ThepapersaystherehasbeenanearthquakeinGreece.Iamnotexactlytired,IfeelonlyasifIwereconvalescentfromasevereillness.FordaysIhaveworried,worriedwhetherHeinzwouldgethispassport,whetherErwinwouldbearrested,whethertheywillremember to call us in the hotel in Belgrade to catch theAthens train. I have alreadymade thejourneyseveral times inmyhead, composed funnypostcards toallmy friends.Andnow thedaywhichseemedtoogood,toobadtobetrue,thedaywhenIshouldleaveGermany,hasarrived,andIonlyknowabouttheFuturethat,howeveroftenandhowevervariouslyIhaveimaginedittomyself,therealitywillbequitequitedifferent.

ThatlastlongpompouslyfalsesentenceisproducedbyChristopher’sfeelingthatheoughttomakesomestatementbefittingtheimportanceofthesituation.Itisfalsebecauseitisoutofcharacter.Idon’tbelieveheeverimaginedthedayonwhichhewouldleaveGermany;thatsuggestsacalmforesightofwhichhewasincapable.Hewasaworrier,notaforeseer.Thatpartofhiswilloverwhichhehadnoconsciouscontrol—hewouldhavecalledit“circumstances”—swepthimblindlyintothefuture,oftenkicking,sometimesscreaming.

*

WhenEdwardUpwardheardwhatChristopher’sdestinationwas,hehadwritten:

Tellmethedetailsandwhetheritispossibletoliveonanislandfornothingandforever.IfitisI’llcome.

ButevenasIsaysomyforedoomedfunctioncomesdownonmelikeanironextinguisherfromtheceiling.I’vegottostayhere.Otherwisethegunswillneverfireagain.Theyhaven’tfiredyetthisterm.I’vewrittenalotofTheBorderLineinmyheadbutnotonewordonpaper.

Three nights a week go regularly to party work—worthless to the party but it will be veryvaluablesomedaytomywriting.Andonanaverageoneafternoonaweekgoestothepartytoo.Itwouldbeveryeasyformenottohaveanysparetimeatall.

(Edward was then teaching at Dulwich and going to Communist Partymeetings.TheBorderLine,onwhichhewasworking,was tobecomehis firstnovel.Itwaspublishedin1938,asJourneytotheBorder.)

Doesthissoundlikeavoicefromthesewer?EverydayIdevelopmoreandmoreintomyopposite.Holidaysreversetheprocess,hencetheawfulbirthpangsatthebeginningofeachterm.

I see now, suddenly, what it was that seemed so obscurely tremendous about your originalremarkaboutourfunctions:yougotoGreecebecauseit’syouroppositeandIamherebecausethisismine. Ifwe’dnevermetatCambridge the roleswouldhavebeen reversedandweshouldbothhavebeenveryunhappy.

Edwardmeantthathewasdesignedbynaturetobearomanticallyfootloosetraveler and that Christopher was designed to be a humdrum stay-at-home,devotedtosomedailyduty.Theirencounterhadhadtheeffectofchangingeachother’sliferolesandofhelpingeachtofindhispropersubjectmatterasawriter.Ithinkthiswasmoreorlesstrue.

*

HeinzcameroundtopickChristopherupatsix.Heinzhadn’tbeentobedatallbecausehehadbeenafraidhewouldoversleep.TheymetErwinontheplatformoftheAnhalterStation.Herolleduptothemred-eyed,havingdrunkabottleandahalfofcognac,andgreetedthemwiththeCommunistclenchedfist,indefianceoftheonlookers.

The train took them southward to theCzechoslovakborder, bywayof thevalleyoftheElbe,wheretheysawahammerandsickledaubedinredpaintona

cliff face above the river; theNazis hadmuch landscape cleaningof this kindstill to do.At theborder,Christopherwatched tensely as theGermanofficialsexamined the passports of Erwin and Heinz and at length admitted that theywereinorder.HisownBritishpassporthadbeenreturnedtohimafterthemerestglance.

When filling out the passport application,Heinz had asked howhe shoulddescribehisprofession.ChristopherhadtoldhimtowriteHausdiener(domesticservant). I suppose Christopher felt that Heinz ought to proclaim himself anunashamedproletarian, instead of hiding behind somebourgeois label such asstudentorPrivat (of independentmeans).Anyhow, thisproved tohavebeenafatallysillypieceofadvice.

*

They reached Prague that afternoon. The hotel was full of refugees fromGermany.ThewearingofNazibadgeswasforbiddenbythepolice.ComparedwithBerlin,thecityseemedancient,picturesquelyuntidy,loudwithtramclatterandtaxitooting,ratherFrench.Ihaveneverforgottenthedarklittlefourteenth-century synagogue, full of candle smoke, where you felt you could smell theMiddleAges.

Next day, they took the train on toVienna. Erwin had some friends there,membersof theLeague forSexualReform,aHirschfeld-inspiredorganization.Theywanted,ofcourse,tohearallabouttheclosingoftheInstitute.Erwin,notunnaturally,presentedhimselfas thecentralmartyr in thedrama.This irritatedChristopher:

I get bored with Erwin when he starts being the heroic exile. We all know that the Nazis arebehavinglikeswine,butwhysuchafuss.Fussingisforemigrés,notforCommunists.

Christopher was charmed by Vienna—by the soft-spoken language of theViennese,bythemanyfountains,bythePraterwithitsbigwheel.Hethoughthewould like to live there. John Lehmann, whom they saw on the sixteenth,encouragedhimtodoso.Ontheseventeenth,theymovedontoBudapest.Ina

restaurant overlooking the Danube, they ate goulash, drank Tokay, and had afiddle played within a millimeter of their ears, gypsy-style. After which theyembarkedonariversteamerforBelgrade.

As theysteameddown thewidebrown river,Christopherkept repeating tohimselfthattheywereenteringtheBalkans—aromanticallydangerousregionofblood feuds and (so he had been told) male marriages celebrated by priests.ArrivinglatethenexteveninginBelgrade,theyfoundacaféwhere

adarkgirlwithamustachekeptupaharsh,extremelydramaticshoutingtotheaccompanimentofthetambourine.Wedrankwineandcoffeeoutofdolls’coffeecups.

EarlyinthemorningofMay19,theycaughttheAthenstrain:

The countrywas likeEngland,with very beautiful trees. I’d expected palms.BeyondSkopje thebrown mountains, the straw hats, the jet-eyed children with their heads bound in crimson rags.Soldierswith fixedbayonetsalong the line.Rain,heavyandcold.As itgotdark, theempty trainrushedthroughthedesertedcountry,guardedbysolitaryarmedmen,towardsthefrontier.

May20.We arrived at noon. Francis was on the platform tomeet us, with a boy named Tasso.“Hullo,lovey,”hesaid,“Ineverexpectedyou’dcome.”Hehassyphilisagain.Wesatforhoursandhoursinacaféwhiletherainswilleddownthestreets.Wecouldn’tdrinktheturpentinewinenoreatthepotatoeslikesoap,buttherewerestrawberries.Everybodyhasastringofyellowbeadstoplaywith.Tassohasone fingernail,on the little fingerof the lefthand,whichhehasallowed togrowenormouslylong.This,saysFrancis,isfashionable.Tassoisverygayandmakeslittlepaperboats.AfterwardsHeinzandIwentbacktoourhotel.Tomorrowtheisland.

*

TheislandonwhichFranciswasbuildinghishouseiscalledSt.Nicholas.ItliesinthestraitbetweentheislandofEuboeaandthecoastofthemainland,closetotheshore,justnorthofthecityofChalkis.Itisaboutakilometerlong.

FrancishadrentedSt.Nicholasfromtheinhabitantsofthenearestmainlandvillage,whowereitspartowners.Hehadaleaseonitfortenyearsattherateofthreepoundsayear.Later,hehoped topersuade thevillagers tosell it tohim.Francis had decided to live on St. Nicholas because therewas a tumulus justbehindthebeachoppositetheislandwhichwassaidtocontaintheremnantsofone or more prehistoric villages. Its surface was littered with bits of pottery.

Francis was already trying to get an authorization from the British School inAthens to excavate the tumulus. (As far as I know, he never did get thisauthorization. His name was becoming increasingly disreputable in officialcircles.)

The description of life on St. Nicholas inDown There on a Visit is takendirectlyfromChristopher’sdiary.ButtheEnglishmancalledGeoffreyislargelyfictitiousandthevisitofMariaConstantinescuneverhappened.Waldemar, theboywhoarrivesfromGermanywith“Isherwood,”isn’tintheleastaportraitofHeinz;heisameresecondeditionofthecharacterofOttoNowak.“Isherwood”treats Waldemar very much as he treats Otto in Goodbye to Berlin, withcondescending amusement andwithout any suggestion that they are seriouslyinvolved.

Christopherdidn’t fully realize,at first,whatagreatnervousstrainhewasunder,whatanefforthewasmakingtoendurethisplace.St.Nicholaswaslikenothinghehadeverexperiencedbefore.Hewasaccustomedtosaythathelovedsunshine,andsohedid,atsomenorthernresortwithcomfortablelodgingsintowhich he could retreat when he had had enough. But now here he was,transplantedfromFrl.Schroeder’sdarkflattoatentinthemidstofthisblazingsun-smitten outdoors—so beautiful with its encircling sea and mountains, sonearlyuninhabitablewithitsheat,dirt,badfoodandworsewater,stingingfliesand yelling Greeks. How could he ever have imagined he could work on hisnovelhere?

Francis, on the other hand, seemed farmore at home than he had been inGermany.Hestilldrankagreatdeal,buthegotupearlyandwasbusyalldaylong.Hewasneverbored.Heflewoftenintorages—withErwinorwithhisboyemployees,orwiththemenwhowerebuildingthehouse—butthesecosthimnoloss of energy and were immediately forgotten. Once, when Francis wasscreaming at someone in Christopher’s presence, Christopher was suddenlypossessed by the hysteria of the scene. He had a cigarette in his mouth and,involuntarily,heinhaleditssmoke.Thiswasthefirsttimehehadeverinhaled—hedidn’tknowheknewhowto—althoughhehadbeenasmokerfortenyears.The liftof the intoxicationmadehimfeelas thoughhewere levitating; foran

instant,healmostlostconsciousness.Afterthis,hebegantoinhaleregularlyandthusbecameanicotineaddictforthenextthirtyyears.

Christopher got very little work done on his novel during their stay. Thewritinghedidwasmostlyinhisdiary,wherehedescribeshisinabilitytowrite,with gloomy relish. If the sun shines, he is too lazy. If it rains, he is toodepressed. Or else he is disturbed by the noise made by the boys and thedomestic animals and the gramophone. Or he is suffering from diarrhea orworriedbyrectalbleeding.

Ihaveutterlynoinducementstostopstaringatmyshoes.Eatanorange?Ihavealreadyexceededmyration.Turkishdelight?Thereisn’tany.Aglassofbottledwater?Well,it’sallIhave.ButIcan’topenthebottle.Theboyshavestartedplayingthatgramophone.Ihavefinishedmyonlydetectivenovel:TheGreekCoffinMystery.AllthoseenergeticAmericans.Theyareanexampletome.Imustpullmyselftogether.Imustwrite.IfIdon’t,I’mlost.

ThechiefeffectofChristopher’seffort towritewastomakehimhostile tothenon-writers—thatis,toeverybodyelseontheisland.Theywereallmakinghistaskharderforhim,simplybybeingthere—all,withthepossibleexceptionofHeinz.

HeinzhadbecomeverymuchathomeonSt.Nicholas.After the first fewdays,hehadstoppedcomplainingaboutthefood.ChristophernotessourlythatHeinz was “quite uncanny” at being able to get along with the boys and theworkmen. They had “interminable” conversations by means of pocketdictionaries, and soon theywere exchangingGreek andGermanwords.Heinzhadprivate jokeswitheachoneof them.Heknewinstinctivelywhen topinchtheir cheeks. They shook their fingers in each other’s faces, laughing andexclaiming:“Ahnana,ahnana!”overandoveragain.Fromtimetotime,theywouldutterwhoopsofjoy.

Nevertheless, Heinz and Christopher shared a tent; at least a fragment oftheirdailylifewaslivedapartfromtheothers.AndwhenChristopherwasinamoodtomakethebestofthesituation,hewoulddwellonthisaspectofit:

Bathedearlyforthefirsttime.Aperfectdeepbluemorning.Ourtentisverynice,withthelookingglassandthesuitcaseonawoodenboxandthetableformytypewriter,withthewiregadgetHeinz

hasmadeforholdingpapers.Wehaveourownorangesandmarmalade.IshouldliketolivewithHeinzinthistentalways.

Heinz is my one support. He makes everything tolerable. When he swims he says “Zack!”“Zack!”likethecrocodileinPeterPan.

Occasionally theyspentawholedayalone together, rowingandsailing,orscrambling up the nearest of the coastal mountains. Three times, Christophertookaholiday from the islandandwentby trainwithHeinz toAthens.Theretheysawthesights,includingwhatHeinzpersistedincallingthe“Micropolis,”andenjoyedthefoodataFrenchrestaurantandthecomfortofagoodhotel.Itwas a treat to make love without the interruptions common on St. Nicholas,whereoneof theboysor thebuilderswasapt tostickhishead into the tentatanymoment.

July8.I’vehadenoughofthis.I’m tired ofwriting this discreet literary little journal,with one eye on the landscape and the

otherontheHogarthPress.Let’sbefrank.(Ideaforanovelorstory:adiarywhichbeginsveryliterary,chatty,amusing.Inthemiddle,the

diaristmakesanadmissionwhichchangesthewholesignificanceofwhathehasbeendescribing.)I am potentially jealous of everybody on the island—of everybody to whom Heinz makes

himselfintheslightestdegreeagreeable.

ChristopheradmitsthathehasbeenjealousofErwin(whoverypossiblyhadbeen tobedwithHeinz inBerlin,beforeChristophermethim),ofTasso (whowasquitecapableofgoingtobedwithanyhumanbeingandwithmanysortsofanimal),andofMitso,Francis’schauffeur,ashewasgrandlycalled.Mitsowasagood-looking youngman.He had awife and children in the nearbymainlandvillage,butsometimeshespentnightsontheislandwiththemostattractiveofthebuilders—soitwasprobablethathefanciedHeinzaswell.ChristopherhadonceventedhisjealousyofMitsobymakingahypocriticalscenewithhimaboutarabbithehadcaughtandputinawoodenpackingcase.(Theboyswereoftenhorriblycrueltoanimals,butthisrabbitseemedquitehappy,munchinggrass.)

Itookthecaseandsmashedit,lettingtherabbitout,shoutinginGerman(forErwin’sbenefit),“Nexttimeyoutortureanimalsdon’tletmeseeit!”IthenthrewthepackingcaseatMitso.Thiscausedagreatsensationamongthebuilders.Theycouldn’tunderstandit.

ChristophercontinuestodescribethesituationonJuly8asfollows:

Today,Heinzannouncedhisintentionofgoingrabbit-shootingwithMitso.Atsupper,realizingthatIwas cross about the proposed shooting-expedition, hewas awkward, embarrassed, inclined to besulky.Severaltimeshesnatchedmyspoonbecausehewantedtouseithimself.

“Youseemtobeinsuchahurry,thisevening,”Isaid.“I’mnotinabitofahurry,”saidHeinz,andadded,withtheperceptionofcruelty,“Iwasn’tthinkingabouttheshootingatall.It’syouwhowerethinkingaboutit,andhopingIshouldn’tgo.”

Nowhe’swithMitso,andIknowthat,eithertonightwhenhecomesbackortomorrowmorning,I shall have to crawl, pocketmy pride, overlook his stupid clownish rudeness, because I simplydaren’tbringthingstoanissue.Thediscoveryofmyjealousywouldputaweaponintohishands.Iwonderifhedislikesmealready,findsmydemandsuponhistimeboringandwearisome.AndifIamjealoushere,whatshallIbeinabigcitywheretherewillbemenandwomenwhowillreallywanttotakehimawayfromme?

There is only one protection for me. The only happiness, or indeed sanity, is in a core ofdetachment.Iameatenupwithjealousyanddevouredbyboredom.IwaitinvaintohearHeinz’swhistlingdrawingnearerorthesoundofhimspittingoutthemucusfromhissquashednose.

*

This sounds like the prelude to a crisis. But—such is the power of inertia—ChristopherandHeinzremainedonSt.Nicholasfornearlytwomoremonths.

Duringthatperiod,oneoftheboysstolemoneyandfledtoAthens;anotherboyrapedaduck.Aneffortwasmadetokill theratswhichswarmedover theinhabitedpartoftheisland;theyateallthepoison,buttherewasn’tenoughofit.Oneevening,aboatfulof fishermen landeduninvitedandbegancooking theirfish.Theyshoutedforwine.Therewasnothingtodobutgiveittothemandjoininapartylastingtilldawn.FrancisandErwinspentmosteveningsdrinkingoutofdoorsatasmallkitchentable.Theywouldsittherethroughthedownpourofathunderstorm, covering their drinks with their hands but not caring that theythemselvesweresoakedtotheskin.

Meanwhile,despitedelayscausedbysaint’sdaysandorgiesandthedamagedonewhenthebuilderscarelesslyusedtoomuchdynamiteinblastingforstone,thehousegotbuilt,andwasreadytobepaintedandhaveitsfloorspaved.Setinthe wall over the front door, there was a fragment of an inscription from thetombofSetiIatLuxor.FrancishadfounditlyingonthegroundthereandhadsmuggleditoutofEgypt.Sonowhewassayinghecouldtellhisvisitorsthathis

homewasthreethousandyearsold.Christopher seldomwas able to talk to Francis alone. He was either with

Erwinortheboys,orhewasarguingwiththebuildersaboutthehouse.Ifhewasalone,hewasoftentoodrunktomakesense.HismannerwithChristopherwasalways polite, even when they had a domestic argument. On one occasion,Christopherprotestedbecausetheboywhosejobitwastowashtheplatesaftermealshadsoresonhishands,probablyofsyphiliticorigin.Francistreatedthisexhibitionof“fussiness”withgoodhumor.Christophersaid thatheandHeinzwouldwashupthemselvesbutthat,iftheydid,theyoughttobechargedlessfortheir board. To which Francis replied, through Erwin, that Christopher mightstay on without paying anything, as his guest, but that there could be noquestion,onprinciple,ofallowinghimtopayless.Heinzwasn’tincludedinthisinvitation;Franciswasstillhostiletohim,regardinghimasaservantwhowaslivingwiththegentlefolk,underfalsepretenses.

August14.ThingsarebadwithHeinz.Fordayshe’sbeensulkyorpreparedtosulk.Theslightestwordsetshimoff.Totheworkmenhe’saspleasantasheknowshow.I’mverypatient,butpatienceiswrong,evencowardly.I’veprobablygotintothepositionofbeingthesinkdownwhichhisbadmoodsdrainoff.WeallhavesuchasinkbutIdon’twanttobeit.Imustseriouslyfacetheideaofleavinghim.

August16.Westartedtalkinginthemorning,afataltrick.Heinzbecamesullen,ashealwaysdoeswhen I talk personalities. Finally he said that it would be better ifwe parted and he returned toBerlin.Iaskedhimtoreconsiderittillafterlunch.AfterlunchItalkedtohimagainandshedtears,andfinallyhesaid:Well,allright,I’llstaywithyou,butwe’llgotoParisatonce.Sincethenwehaven’tspokentoeachother.Myownfeelingsandhisarebothinsuchamuddlethatit’sbetternot.He is quite astonishinglymuddle-headed, a confusionof resentments. I supposewe shall have topart,butitshan’tbetillIwantto.Imustleavehim,asIleftOtto,inmyowntime.

When someone told Christopher he was amonster—it happened now andthen—he would protest, and feel secretly flattered. The word sounds ratherromantic. But here I am confronted by the reality of Christopher’s monsterbehavior—histearsfollowedbycoldcalculation—anditshocksme,ithurtsmyself-esteem,evenafteralltheseyears!Themorereasonforrecordingit.

FromAugust24toAugust28theywereinAthens,celebratingChristopher’sbirthday.Hisonlycommentisthattheweekendwas“nice”andthat“Ispentmy

birthday very pleasantly, chiefly in bed.” This, however, was merely anarmistice.

September6.Aboutlunchtime,inourtent,IdeliberatelyrakedtheembersofarowwhichHeinzandIhadthreedaysago,overtheboat.Itwassosimple,likedraughts.Imoved.Heinzmoved.Imoved.UntilHeinzhadpreposterouslydemanded that I shouldbuyhimaboat. “No,ofcourse Iwon’t.”“Youwon’t?”“No.”“ThenIshallgotoBerlin.”Ishruggedmyshoulders.

Ourdeparturewassemi-secret.Ididn’twantErwin’sattemptsatreconciliationortheworkmen’sdemonstrations.Wewere rowedaway from the island just after sunset.We spent thenight in thehotelatChalkis.

I suppose Christopher did at least say goodbye to Francis, who wouldcertainly never have attempted a reconciliation or even politely urged them tostay.Hewas lonely, amidst thiscrowdofemployeesandhangers-on. (He toldStephenSpender,whovisitedhimin1936,thatnotoneofhisboyshadheardofHomer.) But his pride prevented him from admitting to his loneliness. All heprobablysaidtoChristopherwas:“Haveanicejourney,lovey.”

IfChristopherandHeinzdidn’tsaygoodbyetoErwinonthisoccasion,theywere fated never to do so. Erwin returned to Germany several years later.SomeonetoldmethathewasarrestedbytheNazisanddiedinaconcentrationcamp,butIhaven’tbeenabletoconfirmthis.Ionlyknowthatheisdeadnow.

September7.WecametoAthensbytheearlytrain.I’dcountedoncashingacheckwithafriendofFrancis,buthewasn’tinAthens.SoitwasonlypossibletoraiseenoughmoneyforHeinz’stickettoBerlin.Hewas tohave left thisevening.Butwearrived too lateat lunchtime tobookasleeping-berthforhim.Afterlunch,Heinzsaid:“Ifyougivemesixthousanddrachmas,I’llstaywithyou.”Isaid: “Certainly not. I’m not going to buy you.” So we went back to the travel bureau. All thesleeping-berthswerebooked.“It’saportent,”Isaid.

SoHeinzhassaidhe’llcomewithmeonthesteamertoMarseille,startingfromhereonthe9th.He’ssittingaboutwithafacelikedeathandwon’tspeak.IshallhavetogetridofhimassoonasI’minParis.

Heinz sulked until they sailed and continued to sulk during the voyage,whichtookthemthroughtheCorinthcanalandbetweentheLipariIslandsandgiganticStromboli,whichtheysawatdawn,smokingheavily.Theywereneveralone together because they shared a cabin with four others. On deck, Heinz

talked to a Swiss and Christopher to an Englishman, George Thomson, thetranslatorofGreekclassics.

ArrivingatMarseillesonSeptember13,theywanderedthroughtheOldPort,downstreetsofstairs,andhadtheirhatssnatchedbywhoreswhoweretryingtoenticethemintothehouses.Whentheyadvanced,thegirlsretreated;whentheywalked away, the girls advanced.At last, Christopher andHeinz gave up andwalked away hatless. This adventure made them laugh together. Peace wasinstantlydeclaredbetweenthem.InsteadofpartingnextdayinParis,theyspentacoupleofweeksinthesuburbofMeudon:

Onceagain,theFrencharepreparingtosay:Ilsnepasserontpas.Warisintheair.Butwehadourtinyroomwiththedoublebedandourping-pongandmeals,andwerehappy.

OnSeptember30,Christopher tookHeinzover toEngland.TheystayedatKathleen’s house. The diary narrative breaks off here with the remark: “Theatmosphereischillybutpolite.”

ThechillwaslargelyofChristopher’screation.HehadtoldKathleenthatheandHeinzhadmetforthefirsttimeinFrance,onlyafewdaysearlier.Thiswasbecausehedidn’twanthertoknowthatHeinzhadbeenwithhiminGreeceandthat theyhadbeen together fora longwhile inGermany.But,having told thissillylie,hehadletdrop—withacarelessnesswhichwaspartofhisaggressiontowardher—severalreferencestothingsHeinzhaddonewhiletheywereonSt.Nicholas.Kathleenhadn’tcommentedonthis,butshewashurtthathehadliedto her. Shehad realized instantly thatHeinzwas aworking-class boy and shetreatedhimas such—thoughwith sucha faintnuanceofpatronage thatHeinzwasunawareofitandthoughtherkindandlikedher.Christopherdetectedeverymicroscopicslightandragedinwardly.

Heinz’s tourist permit to stay in England expired and he went back toGermany.Iamsurethathedidthisunwillingly.HeandChristopherwereonthebest of terms again and he had thoroughly enjoyed himself in London,whereseveralofChristopher’sfriendshadbeencharmingtohim;BeatrixLehmannandHumphrey Spender in particular. I am not so sure how Christopher felt. The

strain of having to livewithHeinz underKathleen’s eye spoiledmuch of hispleasure.Alsohewantedtobealoneforawhile,freefromthenecessaryfrictionoftheirrelationship,togetonwithhiswriting.HehatedlettingHeinzreturntoBerlin. Hitler was making warlike moves; he had just withdrawn from theLeagueofNations.Buteventhepessimistsagreedthathewasn’treadytoriskactualwaryet.SoChristopherresolvedtogetsomemoremoneysomehowandto find a way of bringing Heinz over to England for a much longer period,perhapsforkeeps.

NINE

OnemorninginthemiddleofOctober,justafterHeinz’sdeparture,ChristophergotatelephonecallfromJeanRoss.Ihavenoverbatimrecordofwhatshesaid.The best I can do is to report it in the style of Sally Bowles—whichwill beanachronistic, for Jeanwas now beginning to shed her Sally Bowles persona.HerwayofexpressingherselfalreadyshowedtheinfluenceofhernewLondonfriends—left-wingers who were humorous but dedicated, sexually permissivebutpoliticallydogmatic.

“Chris darling, I’ve just met this absolutely marvelous man. He’s simplybrilliant.Iadorehim…No,youswine—wemostcertainlydonot!He’sold—atleastsixty,Ishouldthink.Imean,Iadorehismind…Yousee,he’sanAustrian,only he’s a director in Hollywood. He’s come here to direct a film… And,darling,thisiswhat’ssomarvelous—hewantsyoutowriteit!…Well,no,asamatter of fact, he didn’t knowwhoyouwere.But he’s got to find awriter atonce, and I’ve told him about you, how you’re an absolute genius only a bitunrecognized, so far. He seems really quite interested. He wants to readsomethingyou’vewritten…Yes, Iknowyou’re terriblybusywithyournovelbut,afterall, itcanwait,can’t it—Imean,youcanjustdashthisthingoffandthenyou’llbefilthyrich…But,Chris,Ipromisedhimyouwould!Look,won’tyou at least send him a copy of your last novel—I never can remember itsname…Yes,ofcourseI’vegotone—Itreasureit—onlyIlentittosomeoneandI’veforgottenwho…Youwon’t?Youoldbrute!Well,I’lltellyouwhat—let’smakeabargain,shallwe?IfIbuyacopymyself,andyougetthisjob—willyougivemehalfyourfirstweek’ssalary?”

“It’sadeal!”Christophertoldher, laughing.HehadlongsincelostfaithinJean’smanymoneymaking schemes. He dismissed this conversation from hismind.

Twodays later, Jeancalledhimagain,breathless:“Darling—IboughtyourbookandIgaveittohimand”—herehervoicebecamehushedwithamazement—“hethinksit’sgood!”

What had actually happenedwas that the director, BertholdViertel, leafedcasually through TheMemorial until he came to the scene in which EdwardBlaketriesunsuccessfullytokillhimself.(Afriendhadoncedescribedhisownsuicide attempt toChristopher.This scenewasbasedupon it.)Having read it,Vierteldeclared:“ThisIfindclearlygenial”—pronouncingthewordasEnglishbutmeaning it as theGermangenial, “giftedwithgenius.”And thatwas that.Viertelreadnofurther.Christopher,alreadyasgoodashiredsightunseen,wasinvitedtocomeforaninterview.

(Afterperformingthismomentousactofintroduction,withall itsshort-andlong-term consequences for Christopher, Jean seems to have disappearedtemporarilyfromhislife.Perhapsshewentabroadsomewhere.Ican’trememberifChristopherkepthispromise togiveherhalfofhis firstweek’ssalary. Iamprettysurethatshewouldhaveheldhimtoit.Ihopeshedid.)

*

BertholdViertel appears as FriedrichBergmann in the novelette calledPraterViolet,whichwaspublishedtwelveyearslater:

Thegraybushyhead,magnificentandmassiveassculpturedgranite…thebigfirmchin,thegrimcompressedlineofthemouth,theharshfurrowscuttingdownfromtheimperiousnose…theheadofaRomanemperor…buttheeyeswerethedarkmockingeyesofhisslave.

I couldn’t help smiling as we shook hands, because our introduction seemed so superfluous.There aremeetingswhich are like recognitions—thiswas one of them.Of coursewe knew eachother. The name, the voice, the features were inessential, I knew that face. It was the face of apoliticalsituation,anepoch.ThefaceofCentralEurope.

This passage really only refers to Christopher’s sense of recognition, notViertel’s.Yet,underthecircumstances,Viertel’ssenseofrecognitionmusthavebeen much stronger and more exciting than Christopher’s.While ChristophermerelyrecognizedinViertel“thefaceofCentralEurope,”ViertelrecognizedinChristopher—fromthatveryfirstmoment,Ibelieve—theexceedinglyoddkindofindividualhistemperamentrequiredasaworkingcompanion.

ThefilmwhichViertelhadagreedtodirectwastobebasedonanovelbytheAustrianwriterErnstLothar,calledKleineFreundin,LittleFriend.Itisabouta

smallgirlwhoseparentsarebecomingestranged;thismakeshersounhappythatshe tries to kill herself. (Which may explain why the suicide scene in TheMemorial caughtViertel’sattention.)Thegirl’s suicideattempt isunsuccessfulbutitreunitestheparents,thegirl,andherpuppy.Thisold-fashionedsentimentalthemehadbeenmodernizedbutnotatalldesentimentalizedbytheintroductionof Freudian symbols and dreams. (In Prater Violet, the film which is beingproduced is an unashamedly corny musical comedy set in pre-1914 Vienna.Christopher persuaded John van Druten, who was a master of pastiche andparody,toinventitsplotforhim.)

Since Little Friend features a nymphet, the studio (Gaumont-British) hadtypecast Margaret Kennedy, authoress of The Constant Nymph, as itsscriptwriter.MyimpressionisthatMissKennedywroteanentirescreenplayonherown;hernameappears, aboveChristopher’s,on thecredit listof the film.Christophernevermether.Vierteldidmeether,butthereseemstohavebeennotruemarriage of theirminds; he later described her as “a crocodilewhoweptonceinherlifearealtear”—i.e.,TheConstantNymph.Fortunatelyforbothofthem,MissKennedywasobligedtowithdrawfromtheircollaborationalmostatonce, because she had to devote herself to the production of her own playEscapeMeNever!(Itbecameahitearlyin1934,starringElisabethBergner.)SoViertelhadhadtogethimselfanotherwriter.

Crocodileornocrocodile,asuccessfulself-assuredprofessionalwouldneverhavesuitedViertelasaworkingcompanion.Heneededanamateur,aninnocent,adisciple,avictim.Heneededsomeonehecould teach—“IamanoldJewishSocrates”—someonewithwhomhe could share theguilt of creating this film,someone to whom he could truthfully say, as he said to Christopher: “I feelabsolutely no shame before you;we are like twomarriedmenwhomeet in awhorehouse.”

Christopherwasanamateur, inbothsensesof theword.Aloverofmoviessincechildhood,hewasalsoeagertolearnthecraftoffilmwritingandpreparedtobeginatthebeginning.Whyshouldn’theplaythehumblenovice?Itcausedhimnopain todoso,forhisarroganceasanovelistwaswrappedprotectivelyaroundhisego.Viertelwassubtleenoughtounderstandthis.Headdressedthe

Novelist as “Master,” in the humorous tone of a fellow artist whoseembarrassment mocks his sincere admiration. Meanwhile, he trained theFilmwriterwiththeimpatientpatienceofacraftsmanwhohastomakethebestofaslow-wittedapprentice.

Viertel chose to regard Christopher as an innocent, and used to call himAlyoshaKaramazov.ViertelfanciedhimselfasawiseoldLucifer,andthisroledemanded its opposite, the young unfallen angelwho still had illusions aboutHeaven. Lucifer benevolently despises this angel but sentimentally envieshim…Christopherwasn’taninnocentbuthecouldbeinfantile,whichwasthenext best thing. He could take the pressure off crises in their film work bydisplayingsuchbabylikedismaythathemadeViertellaughathimandcheerupandgetanewidea.

Asadisciple,ChristopherattendedcloselytothewayViertel talked,tryingto memorize his vocabulary and mannerisms. This was part of Christopher’sinstinctive functioning as awriter.He often caught himself studying someonewithout having been conscious that he or she was a model for a prospectivefictioncharacter.Nodoubt,Christopher’sshowofattentionflatteredViertelanddeceivedhim;thetruthwasthatSocrates’sopinionswereofminorinteresttohisdisciple. Christopher saw Viertel as the kind of intellectual who takes hisintellectualismtooseriouslyandthusbecomesthecaptiveofhisownopinions.Hecouldbedazzlinglywitty,grotesquelycomic,butneversilly,neverfrivolous.Comparing him with Forster and Auden and Upward, and seeing the vastdifferencebetweenViertelandthem,Christophersaidtohimselfthatonlythosewhoarecapableofsillinesscanbecalledtrulyintelligent.

WhenIsaythatViertelneededavictim,Imeanawillingvictimandavictimwhocouldthriveonvictimization.MytheoryisthatViertel’sidealvictimcouldonlyhavebeenamalehomosexual—andnotjustanymalehomosexualbutonewho,likeChristopher,wasabletoenjoyboththeyangandtheyinroleinsex.Ifthe relationship between Viertel and himself had been sexual, however, theircollaborationwouldn’thaveworked;sexwouldhavebeenacomplication.Ifthevictim had been awoman,Viertelwould have regarded her sexually, to someextent, even if they hadn’t been lovers. If the victim had been a heterosexual

man,hewouldprobablyhavehatedsubmittingtoViertel’swill,regardingitasahumiliation and a threat to his masculinity. But Christopher didn’t think ofsubmissioninthoseterms;itwassimplytheyinrole,whichheenjoyedplayingpreciselybecauseheknewhimselfequallyabletoplayyang.

Therefore, Christopher suffered relatively little emotional wear and tearduringthoseweeksofworkonLittleFriend. Iamnotclaiming thathealwayskepthisawarenessoftheyang-yinbalance;indeed,Iamgoingtodescribesomeoccasionswhenhelostit.Buthemanagedprettywell.

FromViertel’spointofview,oneofChristopher’sgreatestassetswasthathespoke Viertel’s native language with sufficient fluency. Viertel’s English wasfluent, too, but he needed the release of being able to slip back intoGermanwhenhewastired.AndhelovedmakingsatiricalasidestoChristopherinpublicwhichnooneelsepresentwaslikelytounderstand.Bestofall,ChristopherwasabletoreadhisGermanpoems.Hehadpublishedtwovolumesofthem,aswellasanovel.Viertel thoughtofhimself asapoet, first and foremost, and itwasdepressing forhim to findhimselfalmostwithoutanaudience inEngland, thelandofpoets.Once,whenafriendtoldChristopher,inViertel’spresence,thatacritichadreferredtohimasoneofthemostbrilliantyoungerEnglishnovelists,ViertelexclaimedtoChristopherdemandingly, likeachild:“Andnowtellhimaboutme!”

Viertel’spublicpersonawasthatofaRomanemperor;but,intheintimacyoftheirworkinghours,Christophersawhimas

anoldclown,shock-headed,inhisgaudysilkdressing-gown;tragi-comic,likeallclowns,whenyouseethemrestingbackstageaftertheshow.

Althoughhelookedmucholderthanhisage,forty-eight—andhaddonesoevenas ayoungman, to judge fromphotographs—hewas inspiringlyvigorous andcouldworkalldayandhalfthenight,ifnecessary.Nevertheless,hewasasemi-invalid with a diabetic condition which caused him to eat ravenously and tosufferacutehungerpangsifhewaskeptwaitingformeals.Forthesamereason,he was subject to storms of rage and black frosts of despair, from which,

however, he could recover within seconds. He seemed to carry his ownpsychological “weather” around with him. In his company you were sopowerfullyawareofitthatyouscarcelynoticedifthedaywascoldorwarm,wetorfine.

Hewas chronically lonely for his family—hiswife, Salka, and their sons,Hans, Peter, and Thomas. He talked about them continually and showedChristopher their latestsnapshotsandletters.Salka,bornofaJewishfamilyinPoland,hadcometoViennaduringthe1914–18war,asarefugee.ThereshemetViertel.Duringtheearlyyearsoftheirmarriage,theyhadbothachievedsuccess,sheasanactress,heasawriterandstagedirector.TheyhadmovedfromEuropeto California in 1928. Their sons, said Viertel, were already becomingAmericanizedandbeginningtoregardSalkaandhimselfasforeigners.

Vierteldescribed theirwhitehousewith itsgreen roof, standingamidst thesubtropical vegetation of SantaMonicaCanyon, threeminutes’walk from thePacificOcean.165MaberyRoad—theBritish-soundingaddressbecamewildlyexotic when Christopher tried to relate it to his idea of a canyon, a giganticromanticravine.Hebegantoyearntoseethisplace;Vierteltookitforgrantedthathewouldbevisitingthemtherebeforelong.(Fortyyearslater,Iamstandingonthebalconyofmyhome,lookingoutoverthefamiliarlittlesuburbanvalley,nowsofullofmyownmemories.There,onthestreetbelowus,istheViertels’formerhome.ItisstrangetothinkthatIhavelivedinthecanyonmuchlongerthantheydid.)

Since his arrival in theStates,Viertel had directed at least eight films andseveral famous actors and actresses, including Paul Muni, Claudette Colbert,CharlesBoyer,TallulahBankhead.SalkahadappearedintheGerman-languageversionsofthreeAmericanfilms.OneofthesewasAnnaChristie,inwhichsheplayedMarthy.Garbo,whohadmadeasuccessfuldebutasatalkieactressintheAmerican version, playedAnna again inGerman. She and Salka had becomeclosefriends.GarborespectedSalka’swideexperienceandwouldaskheradviceaboutpossiblenewroles.ShealsowantedSalkatosupervisethewritingofherscreenplaysandusedherinfluencetogetSalkaacontractwithherownstudio,Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Thatwinter,Garbo’sQueenChristina—onwhich Salka shared thewritingcreditwithS.N.Behrman—wasbeingshowninLondon,tofullhouses.WhenitbecametimetosendChristmaspresentsoverseas,ChristopherwentwithVierteltoanart-bookshopinCharingCrossRoad.Astheshopassistantwrappedoneofthe books they had bought, he asked whom he should mail it to. Viertel—speaking slowly and distinctly, as if this were some unheard-of and almostunpronounceablename—replied,“MissGretaGarbo.”Theyoungmanlaughedloudly,thinkingthatViertelmustbepullinghisleg.Itwasunimaginabletohimthat anyone could actually be on gift-giving termswith that infinitely remote,two-dimensionaldeity.

“WhenyouarewithusinCalifornia,youwillseehereveryday,”VierteltoldChristopherastheylefttheshop.“Shecomestoswimandridehorsebackwithourboys.”

*

Thosewerelong,longdaysofrapidtalkandsnail-slowwork,inViertel’sstuffyKnightsbridge flat, which onlyAuden could havemade smokier and untidier.For hours,Viertelwould talk of anything, everything exceptLittle Friend—oftheReichstagfiretrial,theninprogress(heimitatedDimitrovdefyingGoering);of his productions for Die Truppe in Berlin during the 1920’s (he recitedspeechesfromtheleadingroles);ofthepoetryofHoelderlin;oftheawfulfuturein store for the world; of the nature of Woman. It was then that the grimlygrinning, sparkling-eyed Clown surpassed himself. I’m sure he couldn’t haveperformed as brilliantly in the Viennese cafés of his youth. His enviouscolleagues would have interrupted him. Christopher never did. He onlyprompted.

At last, unwillingly, theywould have to come back to their task.Viertel’sattitudetowarditvariedcontinually.Sometimeshedenounceditasprostitution,forwhich theywouldhave to answer, in some future existence, to aSupremeTribunalcomposedofSophocles,Shakespeare,Ibsen,andChekhov.SometimeshesawChristopherandhimselfasheroicrebelsagainstbourgeoisculture:“Wearebreakingourheadsoff,fightingforTruth!”Sometimeshediscoveredadeep

significanceinthestory,decidedthatitwasevenperhapsakindofmasterpiece.Hephilosophizedoverit,quotingMarx,Freud,Nietzsche,andhisownelectedSocrates,KarlKraus (ofwhomChristopher, beforemeetingViertel, hadneverheard).Butsuchhighmoodsofoptimismdidn’tsurvivethedaylight.NosoonerhadChristopher lefthimthanViertel’smindwouldbeclouded inwithdoubts.And,whenChristopher returned nextmorning, hewould find that their latestdraftofascenehadbeenunraveledbyViertelduringthenight,likePenelope’sweaving.

*

Nowandagain,Vierteltouchedonasensitivearea.Once,hetoldastoryaboutafamousactorwhodecidedtowatchtwoboyshavingsexwitheachother.Viertelmadeitclearthattheactorhimselfwasn’thomosexual,merelyfeelingboredandin the mood for any variety of freak show. The actor hired two homosexualyouths. But, when they began to perform, one of themwas unable to get anerection.Whereupon,theotheradvisedhim,inastagewhisper,to“pretendI’mErich”…Thepointandjokeofthisstory—asfarasChristophercouldguess—was that these preposterous little invertswere suggesting that one sex partnermightbepreferable toanother; theywere, infact,behavinglikeheterosexuals.Thiswas amusingbecause, asweknow, all homosexuals arehot togo tobedwithanymalewhomsoever.Ha,ha.“PretendI’mErich,”Viertelsaid,imitatingtheboy’s effeminatevoice, and laughedheartily.Christopher laughed too, andfeltashamedofhimselffordoingso.SupposeChristopherhadtoldacomparablestoryabouttheJews—wouldViertelhavelaughed?Eitherhewouldhavefounditcompletelypointless,orhewouldhaveflownintoarage,andrightly.

Onanotheroccasion,ViertelreferredtoHitler’schiefofstaff,ErnstRoehm,and his notorious homosexuality. Viertel’s comment was: “To such swine wewill never belong!” His tone as well as his words implied that Roehm’sswinishness consisted just asmuch inbeingahomosexual as inbeingaNazi.Christopher shouldhave challengedhimon this, but hedidn’t.Hekept silent.Worsestill,hefelthimselfblushingasthoughhewereguilty.Whichhewas—ofcowardice.

Viertelalsotoldhim:“Youareatypicalmother’sson,Ithink.Youareveryrepressedsexually.Butyoumustnotbe.Therightwomanwillchangeallthat.”CouldViertel,withallhisvauntedworldlywisdom,besounperceptive?No,thatwas impossible.Thenhemust bedeliberatelyprovokingChristopher, tomakehimconfesswhathewas.This,Christophervowedtohimselfwithcoldfury,hewouldneverdo.

*

WorkingonLittleFriendcertainlyhelpedChristophernottobroodonpersonalproblems;nevertheless,hemissedHeinzmoreandmore.Andnow,inthemiddleof December, with the end of the screenplay in sight, the studio askedChristophertostayonitspayrollthroughouttheshootingofthefilm.Officially,hewastobeitsdialoguedirector—whichmeantthathewastoadviseViertelonthe nuances of English intonation and to do emergency rewrites if necessary.Unofficially,hewastoactasago-betweenifViertelandthestudioweretogetintoanargument.Bothsides realizedalready that thiswasmore than likely tohappen.

Christopherwaseager toaccept.Fromhispointofview, shooting the filmwould be ten times asmuch fun aswriting it.But the jobwould keephim inEngland for another two and ahalf to threemonths.He couldn’t be separatedfromHeinzforthatmuchlonger;Heinzwouldhavetobebroughtback.HowhewouldbehaveduringsuchalongstayasKathleen’sguest—howhisdemandsonChristopher’s time would be tolerated by Viertel, the all-demanding—werequestionswhichChristopherchosenottothinkaboutuntiltheystaredhimintheface.

So he began making arrangements for Heinz’s coming. He mailed HeinzmoneyforthejourneyandmoneytoshowtheBritishimmigrationofficialsasaproof that he would be able to support himself while he was in England.Christopher also sent an invitation, dictated by himself, handwritten byKathleen,askingHeinztocomeandstaywithherforanunspecifiedperiod,butmakingnomentionofChristopher.

On January 5, 1934, Christopher went to Harwich to meet Heinz’s boat.

Wystan came with him, at his request. Luckily, Heinz was arriving at a timewhen theschoolatwhichWystanwas then teachingwasstillon itsChristmasholidays. Christopher wouldn’t have wanted any other companion on thismission.Andacuriousforebodingmadehimunwillingtofaceitalone.

Whentheboatarrived,Heinzwasonit,enormouslytoChristopher’srelief.Hehadbeendreadingsomelast-minutehitch.HeandHeinzexchangedabriefformal greeting; Christopher dared not even hug, much less kiss, lest somepolice spy should be watching them. “Everything will be all right,” he toldHeinz,andsenthimofftothepassportandcustomsinspections.

HeandWystanwaitedoutsidetheofficewherethealienshadtoshowtheirpassports.Hewasn’t really anxious but hemadehimselfworry a little, out ofsuperstitiousness;overconfidencewasunlucky.AtthesametimeherememberedtheeasewithwhichHeinzhadbeenadmittedtoEngland,whentheyhadarrivedtogether, lastSeptember.Meanwhile,Wystan, thatpositive thinker,was talkingabout his job and his pupils, as if this passport inspection were the merestformality,unworthyofcomment.Indeed,itseemedtobeso,asmoreandmoreof the aliens emerged—a few with expressions of glad relief, most of themtakingitasamatterofcourse—andwentontheirwaytothecustoms.

But Heinz didn’t emerge. And, at last, when Christopher had begun totremblewithimpatienceandwhenhisconversationwithWystanhaddiedawaybecausehecouldn’tkeephismindonit,amanappearedatthedooroftheofficeandcalledhisname.Wystanfollowedhimin.

Once inside, Christopher saw instantly that something was very wrongindeed.Heinzsatoppositehisquestioners,lookinghumiliatedandresentful.Hewasthesullenpeasantboy,despitehismiddle-classclothes.

Christopherdecidedtoplaythegentleman,verysuperior,witha“What’sthislittlefussabout?”air.Butitwasasagentlemanthattheyattackedhim.Ontheirtable lay Kathleen’s letter of invitation, side by side with Heinz’s passportcontainingthatdamningwordHausdiener.Why,theywantedtoknow,shouldaladylikeMrs.Isherwood,themotherofagentlemanlikehimself,inviteayoungworking-class foreigner to her home? Could it be that she herself planned toemployHeinz—withoutaworkpermitandperhapsonsubstandardwages?

Christopher felt on safe ground here. After remarking severely that hismother wasn’t in the habit of exploiting illegal alien labor—a rebuke whichdidn’tseemtoabashthemintheleast—headdedthatHeinzwasinnoneedofemployment;hehadenoughmoneyofhisown.

They had been waiting for him to say this. Instantly, a second letter wasplayedlikeatrumpcard:“Wasthiswrittenbyyou,Mr.Isherwood?”Withasickshock,ChristopherrecognizeditastheletterofinstructionshehadsenttoHeinzinBerlin.Hehadneglectedto tellHeinztodestroyit,soHeinzhadbrought italongwithhim.Andwhentheexaminers,whohadalreadybecomesuspicious,hadaskedforproofthatthemoneywasreallyhis,hehadshownthemtheletter.This wasn’t mere stupidity. It was perhaps a subconscious bitchery whichdevelops in peoplewhohavebecomeaccustomed to do exactlywhat they aretold.Inthemilitaryprofessionithassometimescausedfamousactsofheroismcostingninetypercentcasualties.Heinz’snottoreasonwhy.

(“If they ask how you got the money,” the letter said, “tell them yourgrandmother gave it to you.That’ll soundbetter.They can’t prove she didn’t.Andit’syours,anyhow.”)

“Ipresumeyou’reaware,Mr.Isherwood,thatthiscouldbeconstruedasanattempttodeceiveHisMajesty’sImmigrationService?”

Thiswasfromthemanwhohadaskedmostofthequestions.Hewassmall,bright-eyed,smiling.

“I don’t see itmakes any differencewho gave him themoney. I did, as ithappens.”

“Ratheragenerousgift,wasn’tit?Itcouldn’tbyanychancehavebeenjustaloan?”

“I’vetoldyouoncealready—”“Andthenthisletterofyours.Abitcurious,isn’tit,thewayit’swritten?”“Idon’tseewhy.”But Christopher did see, only too clearly. He had written that he was

counting the days untilHeinz’s arrival, that he’d been so lonelywithout him.Nothingstrongerthanthat.Butfartoomuch,underthecircumstances.

“Youdon’t?”Thevoicewasteasing,playful.“I’dsayitwasthesortofletter

that,well,amanmightwritetohissweetheart.”Christopher glared at him in helpless amazement.How dare he? And he

lookedChristopherstraightintheeyes,smiling.The examiners consulted together for amoment. In a daze, he heard them

telling him that Heinz wouldn’t be granted permission to enter the UnitedKingdom. He would have to leave by the next boat. Christopher wasincredulous.Howcouldthisbehappening,whentheyhadn’tprovedtheircase?Thenherealizedthattheydidn’thavetoproveanything.Analienhasnorightswhatsoever;hecan’tforceanybodytoreceivehim.“Ishallappeal,”Christophersaid, and was told that that was certainly his privilege; he could write to theHomeSecretary,ifhewished.“ButIthinkyou’llfind,sir,thathe’llendorseourdecision.Hegivesusprettywidepowers.”

When all themiserable arrangements had beenmade and a sad leave hadbeen taken ofHeinz and theywere back in the train on theirway toLondon,Wystansaid:“AssoonasIsawthatbright-eyedlittlerat,Iknewweweredonefor.Heunderstoodthewholesituationataglance—becausehe’soneofus.”

*

ChristopherhatedhavingtotellpeoplewhathadhappenedatHarwich,eveninastrictly censored version. Richard was an exception, of course—Christophercouldtellhimanything.ButRichardlackedexperience;hecouldn’talwaysfeelwhatChristopherhadfelt.Kathleen’sobstinate,one-sidedlovegraspednothingbut the fact that Christopher was unhappy. For this she blamed both theimmigrationofficialsandHeinz;Heinzmorethanthem,sincehehadcausedallthetroublebybeing,sotiresomely,aforeignerandworking-class.

And now Christopher had to return to work on Little Friend. A formertheatricalcolleagueofViertel’s—Christopher’sdiaryrefers toheronlyasFrauG.—was visiting him and helping him revise the screenplay. Shewas a briskcheerful Viennese Jewess, full of energy and ideas. Christopher didn’t in theleastresenttheintrusionofthisnewbroom,evenwhenitsweptawaysomeofhisfavoritescenes.Althoughhehadwrittenthem,literallyspeaking,healwaysthoughtofViertelastheirauthor.

But, at this particular moment, Frau G. was more than unwelcome. ForChristopher had to explain toViertel in her presencewhat had become of theGerman friend whose arrival he had unwisely announced beforehand. Thisembarrassedhimsoacutelythathebrokeoffinthemiddleandranintothenextroom,wherehethrewhimselfdownonacouchandshedtearsofrage,shame,and self-pity. Frau G. followed himwithout the least hesitation, in her thick-skinnedmotherlyway,andtriedtocomforthim.Toher,hehadbecomeachild,with a childish, touching, but funny sorrow. Christopher hated her a little forthis; hatedViertel aswell.These Jewswere certainlymore awareof sufferingthan the insensitiveGentilemasses around them; but it had to be suffering oftheirownbrand,fortheirownexclusivecause.Civilizedliberalsthattheywere,they no doubt deplored the cruelty of their Book of Leviticus, which set theworldanexamplein500B.C.:punishinghomosexuallustbydeath.Homosexuallust they could laugh at, now, and tolerate in a sophisticated manner.Homosexual love they put to death by denial; like Kathleen, they refused toadmit that it existed. For the next few days, Christopher could barely endurebeing with them. It was like a lack of oxygen; his nature gasped for theatmosphereofhisfellowtribesmen.Asneverbefore,herealizedthattheywereallhisbrothers—yes,eventhosewhodeniedtheirbrotherhoodandbetrayedit—eventhatmanatHarwich.

(In1935,duringavisittoEngland,ChristophermetViertelagainforthefirsttime since the filming of Little Friend. Christopher then became aware thatViertel’s attitude had greatly changed, perhaps because of the influence ofBeatrixLehmann.Therewasnoneed for a confession.Viertel showed thatheknewall aboutChristopher’s sex life and that hewasprepared to treat itwithrespect.

Thustheybegantobecomereallyfriends;thetensionbetweenthemonthissubject eased. It had almost ceased to exist by the timeChristopher settled inCalifornia,in1939.WalkingtogetheronthebeachatSantaMonica,theywouldsometimesplayagame:ViertelwouldpointouttheboysheguessedChristophermightfindattractive.Heenjoyeddoingthis,thoughhewasseldomright.)

*

OnJanuary20,afterthescreenplayhadbeenrevisedanddeliveredtothestudio,Christopher left for Berlin. He was determined to get Heinz out of Germanyagain as soon as possible. As usual, his concern was mixed with aggressionagainstKathleen.ShehadtobeshownthatHeinzwastheonewhosesafetyheput before every other consideration. Her England—the England of NearlyEverybody—had rejected Heinz. Before long, he would be rejecting herEngland.

HebroughtHeinzfromBerlintolodgingsinAmsterdam,whereHeinzwastoliveuntilLittleFriendwasfinished.Christopherstayedtherewithhimfortendays.ThenitwastimetoreturntoLondon.

Despite his separation from Heinz, Christopher wholeheartedly enjoyedhimself throughout thenext twomonths,whileLittleFriendwasbeingfilmed.Hemissed Heinz but he no longer had the worry of knowing that he was inGermany, and there weremany distractions which kept him from thinking ofHeinz formore than a fewmoments at a time.Hewas unwilling to admit toKathleenhowmuchfunhewashaving,butshemusthavebeenwellawareofit,fortheywereongoodtermsagainandheusedtoamuseherwithstoriesofthelatest studio intrigues and crises everymorning at breakfast before he left forwork.

ThebeginningofthefilmingbroughtanendtoChristopher’slifeasViertel’svictim,imprisonedinhisflat.ButtheirmovetoGaumont-Britishdidn’tseparatethem.Theywerenow thrownevenmore closely together, as allies against theOthers. Their relationship, while theywere on the set, was in the nature of aperformance.When theywalked into a corner to confer inGerman, the actorsandcrewwatchedthemwithcuriosity,wonderingwhatdecisionstheymightbemaking.Theywerepublic figures,directoranddialoguedirector, emperorandcourtier.TheEmperorregardedhimselfasbeinginthemidstofenemies.Someofthesewerereal,mostwereimaginary.Christopherhadtotakehissideagainstbothkindsanddidsoenthusiastically.HefeltaloyaltytotheEmperorwhichhehadneverfelttotheClown.

One of the Gaumont-British executives took a strong dislike to Viertel,becauseofsomeclashof temperamentsbetween them.ThusChristophergotalesson in the subtleties of racism. The executive exclaimed angrily toChristopher that Viertel wasn’t a Jew at all but one of these mongrelAshkenazim,mixed-upscumfromPolandorGodknowswhere.Theonly realJewsweretheSephardim,towhomtheexecutive’sfamilybelonged.Theywereallaristocrats.InSpain,hisfamilyhadhadafinemansionwithabalcony.Andwhen they emigrated toEngland, the Jewish community had been exclusivelySephardic.TheAshkenazimhadpushedthemselvesinlater,disgracingtheJewsbytheirun-Jewishways.

The executives ate their lunch at theKensington PalaceHotel. Thiswas agrand dull expensive place.Viertel, as Emperor, insisted on going there oftenbecause, as he said, “the animals must see their tamer.” When he andChristopherenteredthediningroom,hewouldglancesharplyaroundhim,asifon the lookout for plotters against his regime. The two of them sat at a tableapart.IfanyoneventuredtogreetViertel,hebowedgrimly.

Christopher much preferred lunching at a pub near the studio called theGoldhawk. It was cheaper and its customers were friendlier and moreinteresting. Robert Flaherty, white-haired, ruddy-faced, and patriarchal, oftencamethere;hewasgettinghislatestpicture,ManofAran,readyforscreening.Viertel admired him greatly, sometimes calling himNeptune (because he hadruledoverthisfilmwhichfeatured300-foot-highAtlanticwaves)andsometimes“TheLastRomantic”(because,accordingtoViertel,hebeganbyfallinginlovewithaprimitivecultureinaremoteplace,thenvisiteditandwasdisappointed,then made a picture about it as he had expected it to be). Flaherty toldChristopher:“Thefilmisthelongestdistancebetweentwopoints”—astatementwhichIstillsometimesponderoverandinterpretinvariousways.

Christopher loved theworld of filmmaking and felt at home in it at once.Psychologically, its technicians were old-fashioned craftsmen, not modernemployees. These cameramen, electricians, and carpenters reveled in theprecisionwithwhichtheyhadtoworkoncameraangles,lighting,andthedetailsof construction. It was their dedication to precisionwhichmade their work a

game,notajob.Beingthusdedicated,theybelongedtoahighercastethantheiremployers,thebusinessmenwhoranthecommerceofthestudio;andtheyknewit. They feuded with each other, they grumbled about being overworked andunderpaid,buttheirliveswerespentinthehappyabsorptionofchildrenatplay.Theirjokeswereabouttheirgame.

A different kind of joke was unintentionally contributed by Christopher.Felicity,theLittleFriendgirl,hasbeengivenapresent,abigmysteriousbox—whichislaterfoundtocontainapuppy.Tryingtoguesswhatisinsidethisbox,Felicityexclaims:“Itdoesn’t rattle and itdoesn’t smell—oh,Mummy,what isit?” Yes, he, Christopher, had actually written that line! It was only when hehearditspokenthatherealizedhowridiculouslyobsceneitsoundedandjoinedintheroaroflaughterwhichwentupfromthecrew.Theycontinuedtoquoteitforseveralweeks.

Viertelhadnorealenemiesontheset,despitehisfrequenteruptionsoffury.“Stubbornmonkeys!”heyelled.“No—notmonkeys!Donkeys!”Forgettinghisliberalism,whichanyhowillbefittedanemperor,hewouldsaywithrelish:“InRussia they would all be shot.” But the crew didn’t resent any of this. Theyacceptedhimasaplayerintheirgame;hisbehavioronlymadethegamemoreexciting.Ithinkmanyofthemwerefondofhim.

Vierteltalkedasiftheentirestudiowereanantiquateddeathtrap.Accordingto him, every take was made at the risk of disaster: lamps falling from thecatwalk, sets collapsing and bursting into flames, cables electrocuting theunwary. “This morning, they are going to attempt a technical maneuver ofextreme peril: Connie Veidt will walk right across the set with the camerafollowinghim.Nodoubttherewillbeseveraldead.”

Conrad Veidt was then playing in the film of Feuchtwanger’s Jew Suss.Whenever Christopher had the opportunity, he would watch. Two memoriesremain.MyfirstisofasceneinwhichVeidthadtoreadaletterofbadnewsand,atacertainpoint,burstintotears.Therewerethreesuccessivetakesandineachone—despitetheintermediatefussingsofthetechniciansandthemakeupman—Veidtwept rightoncue, thegreatdrops rollingdownhischeeksas if releasedfrom a tap…My secondmemory is of the beginning of the scene of Suss’s

execution. Veidt sat in a cart, his hands manacled, on his way to death—awealthyandpowerfulmanruined,alone.However,justasthefilmingwasabouttobegin,somethingwentwrongwiththelights.Therewastobeadelayoffiveminutes.Veidtstayedinthecart.Andnowastenographercameuptohimandofferedhimapieceofcandy.Thegesturewasperhapsdeliberatelysaucy.Somestarswouldhavebeenannoyedbyitbecausetheyweretryingtoconcentrateontheirroleandremain“incharacter.”Theywouldhaveignoredthestenographer.Others would have chatted and joked with her, welcoming this moment ofrelaxation.Veidtdidneither.HeremainedSuss,andthroughtheeyesofSusshelookeddownfromthecartuponthissweetChristiangirl,theonlyhumanbeingin this cruel city who had the heart and the courage to show kindness to acondemnedJew.Hiseyesfilledwithtears.Withhismanacledhandshetookthecandyfromherandtriedtoeatit—forhersake,toshowhisgratitudetoher.Buthe couldn’t.Hewasbeyondhunger, too near death.Andhis emotionwas toogreat.Hebegantosob.Heturnedhisfaceaway.

*

Christopher now acquired a new status among his friends. He was “in themovies” and therefore enviable but a trifle declassed. Thiswasn’t the kind ofsituationwhichmostofthemcouldevenimaginethemselvesbeinginvolvedin.Christopherwasamusedandflatteredbytheirreactionandhedidn’tcontradictthemwhentheytookitforgrantedthathewasearningahugesumofmoney.(Iforget howmuch his salary was; certainly nothing remarkable.) He, who hadbeen apt to beg from his friends and be stingy during the Berlin days, nowenjoyed paying for taxis and picking up the bills in restaurants, saying, “I’mimmenselyrich.”

HetriedtogetBeatrixLehmannthepartofthemotherinthefilm.FirsthetookViertel toseeherplay theyoungElizabethonstage inTheTudorWench.Viertelwasenormouslyimpressed.Thenhearrangedforthemtomeet.Beatrixarriveddressed—orsomymemoryassuresme—inan incredible femme-fataleoutfitconsistinglargelyofgreenfeathers.Shecan’tseriouslyhavethoughtthatthiswasthecostumeofamother,evenanerringone.Morelikely,itwasoneof

her curious satirical impersonations—film vamp meeting Hollywood director.Anyhow, her instinct was correct. Viertel was charmed. Almost at once, theywereintimate.Astheylaughedtogether,theylookedstrangelyalike;perhapsitwas the tribal resemblanceof two tragicomedians. (Vierteldidgiveherapart,notinLittleFriend,but inhisnextfilm,ThePassingof theThirdFloorBack.Sheplayed an embittered spinster andmadeherself hideous asonly sheknewhow.)

When the filming started,Christopherwas able to invite his friends to thestudio and treat them to the fascinating spectacle ofViertel directing a scene.ThisisdescribedinPraterViolet:

Itisn’tnecessarytolookattheset;thewholesceneisreflectedinhisface…Heseemstocontroleverygesture,everyintonation,byasheereffortofhypnoticpower.Hislipsmove,hisfacerelaxesandcontracts,hisbodyisthrustforwardordrawnbackinitsseat,hishandsriseandfalltomarkthephasesoftheaction.Nowheiscoaxingherfromthewindow,nowwarningagainsttoomuchhaste,nowencouragingherfather,nowcallingformoreexpression,nowafraidthepausewillbemissed,nowdelightedwiththetempo,nowanxiousagain,nowreallyalarmed,nowreassured,nowtouched,nowpleased,nowverypleased,nowcautious,nowdisturbed,nowamused…Whenitisallover,hesighs,asifawakeningfromsleep.Softly,lovingly,hebreathestheword“Cut.”

Amongthevisitors to thesetwasForster.ViertelmadesomeremarkaboutForster’seyes.ChristopherlaterpasseditontoForster,whorepliedinaletter:

Thefactthathepraisedmyeyesisveryreassuring,becauseone’seyesarealwayswithone,theydonotvaryfromdaytodaylikethecomplexionortheintelligence.Lethimgazehisfill…

Then,referringtothestudio:

It is amilieu—so energetic, friendly, and horrible. I can’t believe everything isn’t going to crashwhen such a waggon gets somany stars hitched behind. Every film I ever see will now appearincrediblygood…

*

WhenLittleFriendwasreleased,inthesummerof1934,itdidquitewellattheEnglishboxoffice.ItalsogotamuchbetterreceptionintheUnitedStatesthanmostBritishfilmsofthatperiod.TheNewYorkTimessaidthatitwas“veryclose

tobeingamasterpieceofitskind”andFilmDailybelievedthatit“shouldfindawarmwelcomefromAmericanwomenofallagesanddegrees.”

Some ofChristopher’s friendswere indulgent. They declared that the filmwas really quite good—far better than one could have expected. Others, lessimpressed,tookitforgrantedthathecouldn’tbeheldresponsibleforthefilminits final form, since, obviously, the Gaumont-British vulgarians must havealteredeverywordofhis screenplay.The leastcharitableassumed thathehadwrittenthefilmtheysawandheardonthescreen.Buttheyexcusedhimbecausetheyregardedhimasanamusinglycynicalwhore.(Onalateroccasion,speakingofChristopher’smoviewritingintheStates,Audentoldhim:“You,atleast,selldearwhatismostdear.”)

Christopher laughed and half agreed with them. Yes, he was partlyresponsibleforthefilm’ssentimentality.(Thishadonlybecomesubtler,notlessdistasteful, through having been expertly glossed over by Viertel and hiscameraman.)Thenwhydidn’tChristopherfeelashamedandrepentant?Becausehenowrealizedthat,quiteasidefromhisdesiretoearnmoney,hehadneededpsychologicallytodoajoblikethis;wouldneedtoagain,fromtimetotime.He,the arrogant dainty-minded private artist, needed to plunge his hands into avulgarpublicbucketofdye, toget themdrippingwith it, to subduehisnaturetemporarilytoitanddothebesthewascapableofunderthecircumstances.Hisfriendsapparentlydidn’tneedthisexperience.Hecouldn’tquiteexplaintothemwhy itwas so important for himself.All he did knowwas that themakingofLittleFriendhadbeenanewandabsolutelynecessaryphaseofhiseducationasawriter.

TEN

OnMarch 26, 1934, Christopher left London to rejoin Heinz in Amsterdam.ThushesymbolicallyrejectedKathleen’sEngland.Butthisshortjourneywastobeonlythefirstphaseofhisrejection.ToremaininAmsterdamwouldbelikelingeringundramaticallybackstageaftermakingyourfinalexit.No,Heinzandhemustgomuchfartheraway—farenoughtoimpressthataudience,partlyreal,partlyimaginary,ofwhichhewasalwaysconscious.

Tierra del Fuego? The Seychelles? Tristan da Cunha? Lhasa? These wereattractivechieflybecauseoftheirremoteness.Ifhecouldspendonlyonedayineach,hisplacesnobberywouldbesatisfied.Hewouldbeabletosay,Ihavebeenthere.

Muchmore compellingwere the two nameswhich had haunted him sinceboyhood—QuitoandTahiti.ThemagicofQuitohadalmostnothingtodowithQuitotheplace;Christopherhadthennoideawhatitlookedlike.Whatexcitedhimwastheconceptofacitypoisedattenthousandfeetabovetheequator,withdays and nights of eternally equal duration and the round of seasons repeatedeverytwenty-fourhours:springinthemorning,summeratnoon,autumnintheafternoon,winteratnight.Anearthlymodelofparadise—oroflimbo,accordingtothewayyouthoughtofit.

Tahitiwasnomereconcept toChristopher.Hehadseenmanyphotographsof it andof its opposite island,Mooréa,whosewildly,magnificently scrawledskyline has the authority of a famous signature, guaranteeing this to be theworld’smostdreamed-oflandfall.Tahitialsoofferedyouadreamed-ofmanneroflife;youcouldbeabeachcomberthere,likeGauguin.

Quitowouldberatherdifficulttoreach.Tahitiwaseasy.AFrenchboatcouldtake you all theway there fromMarseilles, via the PanamaCanal. The ticketwasn’t too expensive. But, when Christopher inquired further, he was told—incorrectly, I now suspect—that there was a limit on the length of your stay,unlessyouwereaFrenchcitizen.Also,thatbeachcomberswerebeingdeported.

AndwherewouldHeinzandhego,afterTahiti?TherewasWesternSamoa,

with Stevenson’s home and grave; there was the bay in New Zealand whereKatherine Mansfield spent her childhood summers; there was Thirroul inAustralia,whereLawrencewroteKangaroo.All thesewere sacred shrines forpilgrimageandalsoplaceswhereonemightsettledownandwork.ButAustraliaand New Zealand belonged to the Commonwealth, and Western Samoa wasadministeredbyNewZealand.Mightn’ttheyexchangelistsofundesirablealienswiththeBritish?Christopher’sfearswereprobablygroundless,buthewasnowoveranxiousaboutsuchdangers.

Then somebody suggested the Canary Islands; a compromise but anattractive one. Theyweren’t very far away but they did (in those days) seemadequately remote. At least Christopher would be able to think of himself ashaving escaped from Europe; politically the islands belong to Spain butgeographicallytheyarepartofAfrica.

Early in April, Christopher and Heinz sailed on a Dutch boat fromRotterdam,bywayofVigo,Lisbon,andFunchal,toLasPalmas,thechiefcityoftheCanaries,ontheislandofGranCanaria.TheystayedattheTowersStrand,ahotelbuiltinGermanic-modernstylebesidethebeach.Theirroomwasakindofhutontopofthebuilding.Itwasordinarilyusedbyservants.Theyhadbeengiven it with apologies because the hotel was so full; but for them it wasdesirablyprivate.Theyhadthebigflatrooftothemselvestosunbatheon,withaview out over Las Palmas to a background of volcanic hills that formed thecenterof the island.Hot sunshineon theplayaand thesea, raincloudsmassedaround the hills, cocks crowing and goats cropping on housetops, smokeblowing from ships’ funnels and laundry flapping in the sea wind, drunkshuddledasleepagainstwallsdaubedwithsloganspresagingacivilwar,whichwasthenonlytwoyearsahead.

*

Late inMay, Christopherwrote to Forster, telling him that Heinz and he hadmadefriendswithsomeoftheyoungislanders:

Theysitoutunderthepalmtreesuntiltwoo’clockinthemorning,talkingaboutpainting,ormeetin

eachother’sroomstolistentotheKreutzerSonata,likeundergraduates.

They had alsomade friendswith a Swiss lady, Frl. Leonora Pohly,whomtheyhadfirstmet“wanderingaboutthemountainsatsunrise,withherarmsfullof flowers.”She remindedChristopher of a cocker spaniel,with her curly redhairhangingaroundherearsandherwarmeagerdoggynature.Shecametovisitthemeverydayandwasalwaysanxioustoadviseandhelpthem.OnbeingtoldasmuchasshecouldbetoldofHeinz’sdifficultiesatHarwich,shehadinsistedongoingwithhimtotheGermanconsulandexplainingthat“domesticservant”wasamisleadingdescriptionofhisprofession.Christopherwasn’tpresentattheinterviewandIcan’tnowrememberwhatwassaid,butHeinzcameawaywithhispassportalteredfromHausdienertoSprachstudent(studentoflanguages).

This was the Consul’s own extraordinary choice. He might as well have written “Archdeacon.”However,nowthatHeinzisalanguagestudent,hehasdecidedtolearnlanguages,anylanguages,the more the better. He stops the guests in the corridor and says, beaming all over his face, inSpanish: “My friend is very ill.” This is so far his only Spanish sentence. It gives rise tomisunderstandings,asyoumayimagine.

*

OnMay23,Christophertoldhisdiary:“Iamstuck.Ican’twriteTheLost.”TheLosthadbecomeChristopher’stitleforthenovelaboutBerlinonwhich

hekepttryingtowork.HehadoriginallythoughtofthistitleinGerman,lovingthesolemnrollingsoundofDieVerlorenen.Heapplied it tohissubjectmatterwithat least threeseparatemeanings. Itmeant“thosewhohave lost theirownway”—thatmassofGermanswhowerenowbeingherdedblindlyintothefutureby their Nazi shepherds. It meant “the doomed”—those who, like BernhardLandauer,werealreadymarkeddownasHitler’svictims.And,inalighter,ironicsense, itmeant “thosewhom respectableSociety regards asmoral outcasts”—SallyBowlesthe“lost”girl,OttoNowakthe“lost”boy,andMr.Norris,whohascommittedtheunpardonablecrimeofhavingbeenfoundout.

Confronted by all his characters and their stories, Christopherwas like anofficial who is called upon to deal with a crowd of immigrants and their

belongings.Theywait,absolutelypassive,tobetoldwheretheyaretoliveandwhattheirjobswillbe.Theofficialregardsthemwithgrowingdismay.Hehadimagined that he could cope with them all, somehow or other. Now he isbeginningtorealizethathecan’t.

Christopherhadalreadymadeoneplanforaccommodatinghisimmigrants—itwasasfollows:

PeterWilkinson,newlyarrivedinGermany,hasbeeninvitedtoapartyattheWannseevillaof theLandauers,whomhehasnevermet.Hearrivesearlyandhastokilltimebywanderingalongthebeachofthelake.HereheispickedupbyOttoNowak,whotakeshimintothewoodsandseduceshim.Hethengoestothe party and meets the Landauers, Sally Bowles, her boy friend Klaus, andBaron von Pregnitz, a homosexual official in the German government. SallyfindsPeter sympathetic anddecides to rentoneof the rooms inhis landlady’sflat.BernhardLandauerfallsinlovewithSallyand/orKlaus—whichmeansthathewillsoonbeneedingPeterasago-between.TheBaronissnobbishlydrawnto Peter because he is a young Englishman of good family. (The favorableimpression Peter makes upon everybody at the party is chiefly due to hisextraordinarystateofelation,causedbyhisadventurewithOtto.Usuallyheistaciturnandinhibited;nowheseemswitty,charming,evensexuallyattractive.)

PeterhasmadeanappointmenttomeetOttolaterthatevening,atthebrothelrunbyOlga.WhilewaitingforOtto,PetergetsacquaintedwithMr.Norris,whohascometheretoreceiveoneofhiseroticwhippings.Norristakesnoparticularinterest in Peter until Peter happens to mention that he knows Baron vonPregnitz. Norris has been trying for some time to get an introduction to theBaron, whom he hopes to interest in selling German military secrets to theFrench. So now his attitude to Peter becomes suddenly cordial … Thus,Christopherhadcontrivedtopackallhischaractersintoonestructure.Buttherewerefar toomanyofthemandthepackingwastootight.Theycouldn’tmovewithoutgettingineachother’sway.

Christopherneverworkedout indetailwhat theactionof thisnovelwouldbe.AllIhaveishisdescriptionofitsprojectedending:

PeterhasreturnedtoEnglandafterarowwithOtto.Heismiserable.Oneevening,heisaskedouttodinnerat thehouseofsomeaunts.Theirchatterdriveshim tosuchapointofdesperation thathefeels hemust get in touchwithOtto at once. There is only one placewhere he can ring up—atOlga’s.Heslipsoffintoanotherroom,carefullyclosesthedoor,andgivesthenumber.

Meanwhile, atOlga’s, adrunkenparty isgoingon.Ottohasalreadygoneout. (He is, in fact,goingtohisdeath—forheismurderedthatnightbyhisenemiesinanotherstreetgang.)Adrunkenboypicksupthereceiverand,halfasajoke,halfthroughstupidity,holdsaconversationwithPeter,sayingthatheisOtto.Finally,whenPeterrealizesthatheisn’t,theboyhangsupthereceiver.ThebookendswithOttolyingdeadinthesnowunderthegirdersoftheoverheadrailway.

*

ThereisoneothernoteaboutTheLostinChristopher’sdiary:

Thelinkwhichbindsallthechiefcharacterstogetheristhatinsomewayorothereachoneofthemisconsciousof themental,economic,andideologicalbankruptcyof theworld inwhichtheylive.Andallthismustechoandreechotherefrain:Itcan’tgoonlikethis.I’mtheLost,we’retheLost.

Thissoundslikea“method”stagedirectorinstructinghisleadinglady,SallyBowles, to be aware of the world’s mental, economic, and ideologicalbankruptcy as she lights her cigarette.Christopheroftenwrote suchmemos tohimself—halfserious,half satirical—whenhewas trying toarriveata literarydecision;theyhelpedhimmakeuphismind.Hereheispokingfunathisownloveofconcepts.Inthenovelashehasbeenplanningit,thechiefcharactersarereallyprototypescreatedtodemonstratehisconceptoftheLost.However,youcan’tdemonstratealltheaspectsofaconceptifyouhaven’tenoughprototypes;andChristopherwasnowbeing forced to admit that he couldn’t get all of hisprototypesintoonenovel.Hewasthereforeforcedtoaskhimself:“HowcanIcallmynovelTheLostifIdon’tfullyexplainwhatImeanby‘lost’?”Towhichtheshockinglysimpleanswerwas:“Youcan’t.”

ButChristopherwouldn’tat firstaccept thisanswer.Hewasstillunder thespellofhissonorousconceptual title.Hewenton thinkingofhisnovelasTheLost even after hehaddecided tomake it exclusively the storyofMr.Norris,casting out Sally Bowles, the Landauers, the Nowaks, and many minorcharacters.

It has been my experience that the embryos of novels tend to start their

growthasinterlockedSiamesetwinsortriplets,whichcanonlybeseparatedbythemostdelicatesurgery.IrememberalongmorningduringwhichChristopherpaced the hotel roof, back and forth, back and forth, performing this surgeryinside his head and freeing Norris from the stranglehold of his brothers andsisters.Havingdoneso,hequicklysketchedoutafirstchapter.

Then, at thebeginningof June,he andHeinz tookabus into thehills andspent threedaysexploring themon foot.From thebottomofanextinctcrater,now fertile farmland, they scrambled slowlyup to its rimandmade theirwayalongdizzyridgestothepedestalofasheerandsinister-lookingrockcalledElNublo,TheCloudyOne.Seeminglyunclimbable,ithadlatelybeenclimbedbyapartyofNazi tourists,whohadplanted their swastika flagon its top.The flaghadbeenblownawayalready,buttheflagpoleremained.

Onsuchoccasions,HeinzwasathismostlovableandhismostGerman—notthe German Boy but the German Child; a child out of Grimm’s fairy tales,setting forth innocently into theunknown.Hewasastoundedbyeverythinghesaw. He laughed delightedly. He sang. His favorite wander song can betranslatedasfollows:

MyjourneyI’mmakin’WithfivepennyworthoffatbaconWhichIlovetochewonAndnooneain’ttakin’.

AndwhodoesthatI’llbashhimonhishatBashhimonhissmellerTillit’sflat.

AnotherofHeinz’ssongswasaboutafightbetweenCommunistworkersandthepolice,intheearly1920’s.Twocomradestakepartinthisfightandoneofthemiskilled.Sotheotherwritesaletter,“withtremblinghands,”tohisdeadfriend’smother.ThefightactuallytookplaceatatowncalledLeuna.ButHeinzfounditamusing,whensingingthissong,tochangeLeunatoLeihhaus,thusmakingtheletterannounce:

Thecopsshotyourson.Nowhe’slyingInthepawnshopandwillnotreturn.

Although suffering from spasms of vertigo and blisters on his feet,ChristopherwasserenelyhappyinthecompanyoftheGermanChildandinhisnewlyfoundconfidencethathewouldnowbeabletowritehisnovel.

Next day, they plodded downhill through seemingly endless ravineswhichbroughtthematlasttothesouthernmostpointoftheisland,Maspalomas.Atallslender lighthouse stood inwhat looked likea tinypatchof theSaharadesert,transplantedfromacrossthewater.Thatnight theyslept inaroomwithaholeinsteadofawindow.Thebedcontainedone—butonlyone—crablouse.Itwasbeautiful,goldenwithaspotofblackonit;quitedifferentfromthedrabverminwhich Christopher had sometimes hosted in Berlin.When they started off tocatch theirbusback toLasPalmasnextmorning,he leftsomething in thebedwhichwasevenmoreexotic than the louse, aBritishhundred-poundnote.Hehadbeen carrying itwith him throughout this journey—“for emergencies,” hevaguely,evasivelytoldhimself.Onthispoint,IlosepsychologicalcontactwiththeChristopherof thosedays.This refusal to relyexclusivelyonhis traveler’schecks,thisclingingto“real”money,musthavebeenareflectionofKathleen’sinsular attitude when she and her parents toured Europe at the end of thenineteenthcentury…Herememberedthenoteafterhehadwalkedonlyafewyardsandrushedbacktoretrieveitfromunderthepillow.

*

OnJune6,theyleftGranCanariafortheislandofTenerife.Christopherfeltthathewouldbeabletoworkbetterthere,withfewerdistractions.Also,hewantedto“have”hisnovel—asawomanmightwishtogivebirthtoherchild—undertheauspicesofacelebratedromanticplacename. (Heevenconsideredputting“Tenerife,1934”atthebottomofthelastpage.But,bythetimethenovelwasfinished,somethinghaddecidedhimnot to.Maybe itwas thefact thatForsterhad put anti-romantic “Weybridge” at the end of two of his novels. Wasn’t“Tenerife”atriflevulgar?)

They settled into a pension called the Pavillon Troika, near the village ofOrotava.Itwasthrillingtoknowthatyouwerelivingontheslopesofavolcano,twelvethousandfeethigh.TheyhadseenitfromtherockpedestalofElNublo,toweringaboveacloudpedestalfaroutontheocean.But,here,itwastoocloseto be visible. Here, you were merely an atom of Gran Canaria’s magnificentview. From the Pavillon Troika, all you could see, most of the time, wereglimpsesthroughwarmrollingseafogoffarmsonthelowermountainsideandofthewavesbeneaththem.

Thepensionwasrunbyamiddle-agedEnglishmanwhodyedhishairaverydead black.Hewarmly approved of the relationship betweenChristopher andHeinz,butnotofChristopher’soccupation: “After all, oldboy, Imean to say,willitmatterahundredyearsfromnowifyouwrotethatyarnornot?”Hekepturging Christopher to make better use of his youth, while he still had it, byspendingmoretimedownatthebeach,swimming.Butthebeachwasdirtyandtoo distant, and the Englishman’s advice wasn’t disinterested. He had agramophone with a powerful loudspeaker which he would have liked to playfrommorningtillmidnight.Christopherhadprotestedthathecouldn’tpossiblyworkwhilethisnoisewasgoingon,andhadthreatenedtomoveout.Soitwasagreedthatthemusicshouldn’tstartuntilfourintheafternoon.TheEnglishmanhopedthatitwouldthenlurecustomersintoenjoythecocktailhour.Itseldomdid,fortherewerefewpotentialcustomers.

Christopher wrote always in the garden. Beneath the spotted leaves of arubbertree,withbananaplantsandhibiscusaroundhim,hebangedawayathislittleCorona.(Ababytypewriter itwouldseemtoday—theskeletonofababy,foryoucouldlookrightthroughit,betweenthethinribsofitskeyboard.Butitwasastonishinglysturdy.Hewouldbeusingitforanotherfourteenyears.)

Thiswasaperiodofcontentedabsorption,measuredinchapters,notweeks.The solvingof a literaryproblembecameamajor event, but the excitement itcaused himwas introverted, since therewas no one he could run to and readaloudajust-completedpassage.Christopherwasn’tabouttoexposehisarttothephilistine judgment of the Englishman; andHeinzwould hardly havemade aperceptivecritic,evenifChristopherhadbeenwritinginGerman.

Atoddmoments,hegaveHeinzlessonsinEnglish,geography,andmodernhistory.WhileChristopherworked,Heinz kept himself occupied,writing longletterstohisfriendsandplayingwiththeEnglishman’spuppyandthemanycats.Withhisgeniusforcommunication,hesomehowmadethegardener’sboyandtheoldwomanwhocookedthemealsunderstandamixtureofGerman,English,and Greek, laced with occasional words of Spanish. His head was nowtoothbrush-bristly all over. Christopher had cropped Heinz’s hair at his ownrequest.TheEnglishmanhadtoldhimthatthiswouldpromotehairgrowthandChristopherhadencouragedHeinztobelieveitbecausehefoundbristlessexy.

After supper, theyoftengotmildlydrunkandcaperedon the smallmarbledancefloor in thepatio.TheEnglishmantold themwild talesofhis life in theUnitedStates.Hehad jumped shipwhileworking as a steward andhad spentseveral yearswandering around the country, lovemaking.He strongly advisedChristopherandHeinztogoanddolikewise.

*

OnJuly9,Christopherbegana two-dayholidayfromhisnovel.HeandHeinzsetouttoclimbthevolcano,thePicodeTeide.Theyhadhiredaguide,andtwomulestocarryfoodandblankets.Someonemusthavetalkedthemintomakingtheexpeditionsoelaborate; itwasstillquitecheapbut itwasn’t theirstyle.Atthe lastmoment, they impulsively invitedayoungGerman, a schoolmasteronholiday,tocomewiththem.Heseemedpleasantenough.Thebackofhisneckhad an ugly Prussian look, itwas red and stiff; and his facewas prematurelylined,wooden,rathersilly.Buthehadniceblueeyes.

They spent thenight in a rest hut on the lavaplateauwhich surrounds theconeof thePico.Aftersunset, the temperaturedroppedsharply.Thehuthadafireplace but no chimney; it filledwith smokewhen they started a fire. Theironlylightwasfromapairofbicyclelamps.

Christopher was acutely aware of the altitude; it made him feel tense,apprehensive, slightly crazy. It seemed to affect the schoolmaster too, butdifferently.Hebecamedogmatic and talked in slogans fromNazipropaganda:“Apeoplemusthaveanationalambition.Itisnaturalforonepeopletowishto

imposeitscultureuponallothers.”WhenChristopherchallengedhimtodefinewhathemeantbyGermanculture,hewasunabletoandshruggedthequestionoff as irrelevant. None of this was really surprising. But Christopher, in hispresent state of mind, saw the schoolmaster as supernaturally sinister,transformedbeforehisveryeyesintoademonwhothreatenedHeinz’sexistence.No—itwasevenworsethanthat.ForHeinzevidentlycouldn’tseethedemonicaspect of the schoolmaster, regarding him as an ordinary human Nazi whosepoliticalopinionsshouldbeignored,ratherthanspoiltheenjoymentofthistrip.Whichmeant thatHeinz, beingGerman, hadwithin him a peculiarlyGermantoleranceofNazi ideas—a tolerancewhichcouldbetrayhim into thedemon’spower.NotonlyHeinz’sexistencewasthreatenedbuthissoul.

Nextmorning,pantinginthethinair,theyfollowedafairlyeasypathuptothetopofthecone.Hotsulphurfumedthroughgreenishholesinitssides.Whentheguideheldalightedmatchtooneofthem,alltheotherholesbegantofumemore violently. And therewas a placewhere you could hear a noise like theroaringofsubterraneanfire.Asthesunrose, theystoodsilent intheenormousemptiness,lookingoutoverfleecycloudfieldstowheretheguidehadtoldthemthe coast of Africa lay. Then Heinz let out a great joyful yell and, using hiswalking stick for a brake, glissaded down the cone in a swirl of pumice dust.Without a smile or a word, his soul’s enemy took off in pursuit of him.Christopherdescendedmoresedately,sulking.Sincewakingupthatmorning,hehadavoidedspeakingtotheschoolmasterandhadurgedHeinznot tospeaktohimeither.Heinzhadgoneondoingso,greatlytoChristopher’sannoyance.TheschoolmasterseemedanyhowquiteunawareofChristopher’shostility.

Then followed the long downhill trail, onwhichChristopher felt glad thatthey had hired themules, because he could ride one of them and thus isolatehimself from Heinz and the schoolmaster. However, the decreasing altituderestoredhimgraduallytosanity.BythetimetheyreachedtheTroika,hehadhadto admit to himself that the demon was a human being after all, hateful butrelativelypowerless.

*

WhileChristopherwasstrugglingtowritehishugenovelabouttheprototypesoftheLost,hehaddecidedthatitmustbenarratedinthethirdperson,objectively,camera-wise.Thecamerawouldrecordonlyoutwardappearances,actions,andspoken words—no thoughts, no feelings, nothing subjective. In this kind ofstorytelling,theauthorisplayingagamewiththereader.Theauthorgiveshimall thenecessaryobjectivedata,challenginghim to interpret itandguesswhatwillhappennext.Themoreoftenthereadermisinterpretsandguesseswrongly,thegreateristheauthor’ssuccess.Thisisthetechniqueoftheclassicdetectivestory.

ButnowChristopherwasattemptinganaltogetherdifferentkindofnovel,inwhichMr.Norriswasn’taprototype,wasn’tdesignedtodemonstrateaconcept.Here, hewas a character in the simplest sense.Meeting himmust be its ownreward.

Christopherwanted tomake the readerexperienceArthurNorris just ashehimself had experienced Gerald Hamilton. He could only do this by writingsubjectively, in the first person, describing his own reactions to and feelingsaboutHamilton; otherwise, his portrait ofMr.Norriswouldn’t be lifelike.Hecould,however,permithimself to inventasmuchdialogue,asmanysituationsandadditionalcharactersasheneeded.Onedoesthatevenwhenoneistellingastorytoone’sfriendswhichisallegedlytrue.

But the narration problemwasn’t to be so easily solved.Was ChristopherclaimingthattheNarratorofthisnovelwas,ineveryrespect,himself?No.Mostimportantly, he wasn’t prepared to admit that the Narrator was homosexual.Becausehewasafraidto?Yes,thatwasonereason.Althoughhisownlifeasahomosexual was lived fairly openly, he feared to create a scandal. He evenhesitated to embarrass Kathleen. And there was Uncle Henry—if he weresufficientlyshocked,hemightcutoffChristopher’sallowance.

Therewasasecondreason,aliteraryone.Christopherdoesn’tmentionitinhisdiariesor lettersof that period.But I think that, subconsciously at least, itmusthaveinfluencedhisdecisions.

Christopher wanted to keep the reader’s attention concentrated on Norris;therefore,theNarratorhadtobeasunobtrusiveaspossible.Thereaderhadtobe

encouraged to put himself in theNarrator’s shoes—to seewith theNarrator’seyes,toexperiencehisexperiences,toidentifywithhiminallhisreactions.Forexample,theNarratorisataBeethovenconcert,heseesandsmellsajuicysteakinarestaurant,hewakesinthenighttofeelhischeekbeinglickedbythetongueof a non-venomous snake. The ordinary reader, being convinced of theNarrator’sordinariness,willtakeitforgrantedthatheisfeelingpleasureinthefirst instance, appetite in the second, and terror and disgust in the third. Thereaderwillsharethesefeelings.

ButsupposethattheNarratorshowsnopleasureinthemusic?Supposethathe showsdisguston seeingand smelling themeat?Suppose thathe showsnofear of the snake and even starts to pet it? Suppose, in other words, that heproveshimselftobeatone-deaf,vegetarianherpetologist?Theordinaryreadermaybe repelledby,or sympathetic to, suchaNarrator’s reactions,buthewillnever identifywith him.Hewill always remain aware that theNarrator is anindividualwhoisverydifferentfromhimself.

ThisiswhatwouldhavehappenedifChristopherhadmadehisNarratoranavowedhomosexual,withahomosexual’sfantasies,preferences,andprejudices.The Narrator would have become so odd, perhaps so interesting, that hispresence would have thrown the novel out of perspective. It could no longerhave been exclusively a portrait ofMr.Norris. TheNarratorwould have keptupstagingNorris’sperformanceasthestar.

Christopher dared not make the Narrator homosexual. But he scorned tomakehimheterosexual.That, toChristopher,wouldhavebeenas shameful aspretending to be heterosexual himself. Therefore, the Narrator could have noexplicitsexexperiencesinthestory.(“Thissexlessnitwit,”onereviewerwastocallhim.)Theunluckycreatureis,indeed,nomorethanademi-character.ItisasifChristopherhas toldhim: “Don’t call anyunnecessaryattention toyourself;don’tgetmore involvedwithanybodythanyouabsolutelyhave to.”TherearemomentsinthenovelatwhichsomeoftheothercharactersseemactuallyawareoftheNarrator’sdemi-nature.When,forexample,HelenPrattcallshim“anicelittle chap,” it is with a strange contemptuous tolerance. She knowswhat sheknows.ButChristopherwon’tallowhertosaymore.

Thus Christopher both acknowledged and disowned his kinship with theNarrator.InMr.Norris,heexpressed theambivalenceofhisattitudebygivingtheNarrator his two superfluousmiddle names,WilliamBradshaw. They hadalwaysembarrassedhimand,lately,hehadgrowntohatethembecause,joinedtoChristopherandIsherwood,theyformedatediousprocessionoftensyllableswhichwouldn’t fit into the allotted space on anyof the official documents hewas required to sign during his travels. InGoodbye to Berlin, and two laternovels, he changed the Narrator’s name to Christopher Isherwood, saying tohimselfthatWilliamBradshawwasafoolishevasion.ButtheevasivenessisintheNarrator’snature,notinhisname.

*

Christopher set out towritewhat he called a “dynamicportrait.”Heused thisterm to describe a novelwhose interest dependson the gradual revealingof acharacter, rather than on action, crisis, and confrontation.What the action ofsuchanoveldoesistoremovelayerafterlayerofthe“skin”ofouterappearance—thus taking the reader inward from his first superficial impressions and toohastily formed judgments until he is face to face, at last, with the “real”individual.(Thisonlymeans,ofcourse,thataspectoftheindividualwhichtheauthorhasarbitrarilydecidedistheessentialone.)

Inthosedays,Christopherwasfondofsayingthatwhatmostinterestedhiminwritingfictionwastopresent thebizarreasthoughitwerehumdrumandtoshow events which are generally regarded as extraordinary forming the dailyroutineofsomebody’slife.HehadchosenNorrisforhisfirstsubjectbecause,ofallhisBerlincharacters,Norriswasthemostbizarre.

However,intheprocessofwritingthenovel,Christopherwasseducedawayfrom his original intention. Toward the end of it, he abandonsNorris and hisportrait for a whole chapter, while he takes the Narrator and some minorcharacters toSwitzerlandandinvolves theminanespionage intrigue.Here thebizarreismerelybizarre.

(InowrealizethatwhatseducedChristopherwashisrecentexperiencewiththe screenplay of Little Friend. This had shown him that he could invent

situationsinareasoflifewhichwerequiteunknowntohim;inventthemwithoutshame,althoughpartofhimselfregardedthisnewlydiscoveredfacultyasbeingakindofbetrayal.Henceforth,fromtimetotime,hewouldbeunabletoresistusingit.Itwassomuchfun.)

InhistwonovelsaboutBerlin,Christophertriedtomakenotonlythebizarreseemhumdrumbutthehumdrumseembizarre—thatis,exciting.Hewantedhisreaders to find excitement in Berlin’s drab streets and shabby crowds, in thepoverty and dullness of the overgrown Prussian provincial town which hadbecome Germany’s pseudo-capital. Forty years later, I can claim that thatexcitementhasbeencreated—largelybyallthoseotherswhohavereinterpretedChristopher’smaterial: actresses and actors, directors andwriters. Christopherwassaying,ineffect:“Readaboutusandmarvel!Youdidnotliveinourtime—besorry!”Andnowthereareyoungpeoplewhoagreewithhim.“HowIwishIcouldhavebeenwithyouthere!”theywrite.Thisisflatteringbutalsoironic;formostof themcouldnomorehavesharedChristopher’s life inBerlin thantheycould have lived with a hermit in the desert. Not because of any austeritiesChristopherendured.Becauseoftheboredom.

*

ChristopherfinishedthenovelonAugust12.Irememberthathehadtohurrytoget his last page typed before the Englishman started the music. Christopherwroteinhisdiary:

ThegramophonekeepsreiteratingastatementaboutLifewithwhichIdonotagree.

WhenhemailedthemanuscripttotheHogarthPress,itwasstillcalledTheLost.But,notlongbeforeitspublicationin1935,hedecidedtoalteritstitletoMr.NorrisChangesTrains.This,too,wasatitlewhichhehadoriginallythoughtof inGerman:HerrNorrisSteigtUm. Itwas intendedbyChristopher tomeannotonly thatMr.Norriskeepschanging trains—that is tosay,keepshaving tochangecountriesinahurry,toescapehiscreditorsandthepolice—butalsothathekeepschangingalliesandpoliticalaffiliations,jumpingfromonebandwagon

ontoanother.WhenStephenSpenderheardofthenewtitle,heprotestedinaletter:

TheLost isanexcellent title.Theother isarty.Anythingwouldsurelybebetterand lessHogarthPressy.Itgivesoneasenseofearrings.

Istillcan’tagreewithStephen.AndIenormouslyregretthatChristopherlethimselfbepersuadedtomakeachangeinthetitleoftheAmericaneditionofthenovel.Somebody in theofficeofWilliamMorrow,hisU.S.publisher, assuredhim that Americans always said “transfer” and therefore wouldn’t understandwhat “changes trains” meant. Christopher knew nothing at that time aboutAmerican idioms, so he took this extremely dubious statement for fact andoffered an alternative, The Last of Mr. Norris. He thereby created the falseimpressionthatthesearetwodifferentnovels,onethesequeltotheother.Whichhas led to much wearisome correspondence with readers, setting the recordstraight.

*

On August 15, Christopher and Heinz began a week’s tour of the threewesternmost Canary Islands: La Palma, Gomera, and Hierro. This was sheertravel snobbery; the islands had little to offer but their remoteness and LaPalma’sclaimtopossessthelargestextinctcraterintheworld.Thelengthofthetourwasmadenecessarybytheintervalsbetweenvisitsofthecoastalsteamer.Still, theykilled timehappily, clamberingupcinder cones,playingbilliards infondas, or lying in bed.Heinzwas a good person to be boredwith; he neverblamed Christopher for his boredom. And they did meet two fascinatingcharacters—touristbeggarsofcontrastingtypes—aboutwhomChristopherlaterwroteastorycalled“TheTurnroundtheWorld.”

Then, on September 6, they left the islands for the Spanish mainland.Landing at Cádiz, they took a bus to Algeciras, visited Gibraltar, and latercrossedbysteamertoCeuta,inwhatwasthenSpanishMorocco.AsChristophercameashoredownthegangplank,thehundred-poundnotewaspickedfromhis

pocket. There was nothing effective to be done about this, so he relieved hisfeelings by making a token fuss at the British consulate. The vice consulnaturallythoughtitinsanetocarrysuchasumofmoneyaround.Notbeingalsoapsychologist,hedidn’tfindChristopher’sinsanityeventheleastbitinteresting.

After this, there is a gap in Christopher’s diary and a blank in my mind.Memory refuses to attach itself to the snapshots they took in Tetuán and inXauen—then still thought to be dangerous because of the recent fightingbetweentheMoorsandtheSpanish.IgazeattheseglimpsesofwindingalleysandmuffledfiguresandcanrememberonlyavisittoTangiertwentyyearslater,whichwasmadeunforgettablymelodramaticbyaninitiationintohashishtaking.

HavingleftAfrica,theytravelednorththroughSpainbywayofGranadaandMadrid. I forget what the reasons were which decided them to settle inCopenhagen, early in October. I suppose that, for the moment, there seemednowhereelseforthemtogo.

ThusendedChristopher’sgrand journeyofhome rejectionanddefianceofNearlyEverybody.Whatfollowedthiswasnolongerdefiant; justasuccessionofmovesonachessboard,compelledbyastrongeropponent.Infact,aretreat.

ELEVEN

WritingtoStephenSpenderfromCopenhagenonOctober9,1934,Christopherreports that he andHeinz havemet Stephen’s elder brother,Michael, and hiswife,Erica,bychanceonthestreetandthatEricahasbeenmostkindtothem.Shehasfoundthemaflat in thesameblockas theSpenders’,atClassensgade65,andhashelpedthembuyafewpiecesoffurnitureandmoveintoit.

Onehas towait threeor fourmonths, asa foreigner,beforeapplying forpermission to remain inDenmark at all; and the authorities refuse to say in advance whether permission is likely to begranted. This rather disinclinesme to buy anything for the flat which isn’t absolutely necessary.HeinzismakingmeatballsinthekitchenandIamtypingthisinavery“dictator”room;quitebareexceptforaventilator,atable,andamapofEurope.

Compared with his brothers,Michael appeared rugged and masculine andaltogether less sensitive, but he had his share of the Spender good looks.ChristopherhadmethimbrieflybeforethisandhadthenbeeninclinedtoacceptStephen’sviewofhim.Stephen,thehyper-subjective,hadmadefunofMichaelfor having claimed that he had never in his life held a subjective opinion.Michaelcertainlywasapragmatictypeofscientistwhomadeacultofefficiencyand despised the lack of it in others.However, hewas also aware of his ownlimitations and more modest than Stephen would admit. Christopher foundMichael’sconversationfascinatingpreciselybecauseitwasfreeofthesubjectiveexaggerations in which he himself was so apt to indulge. It was a welcomechange to listen toMichael’s strictly objective stories ofGreenland,which hehadrecentlyvisitedonsomescientificmission.

OnestoryIstillrememberbecauseitissuchanaptparable,applicabletoanyfailureinunderstandingbetweentwocultures:

An Eskimo, on being shown a photograph of Copenhagen harbor full ofships,wasunimpressedandpuzzled.Heasked:“Buthowcanpeopleliveinyourtown?Theymustallbestarving.Iseenofishingcanoes.”

On the whole, Michael approved of Christopher, finding him less

subjectivelyminded thanmost of Stephen’s friends. Thiswas because he hadreadTheMemorialandhadbeenimpressedbyitsdisplayofobjectivedetails—suchasthenamesofmusicalpiecesperformedatMaryScriven’sconcerts, thetechnical gossip of Maurice’s friends about cars and motorbikes, the obscureplaces visited by Edward Blake in Asia Minor, the description by Eric of abankruptminingtowninSouthWales.Michael,withendearinginnocence,tookit for granted that Christopher knew what he was talking about; that he hadproduced these facts out of a vast store of knowledge.Christopher, likemanyotherwriters,was shockingly ignorant of the objectiveworld, exceptwhere ittouched his own experience. When he had to hide his ignorance beneath aveneer, he simply consulted someone who could supply him with theinformation he needed. Nevertheless, he accepted Michael’s complimentsgracefully.

EricaSpenderwasaGermangirlwithasomewhatboyishattractiveness.Shewasfulloftemperament,fun,andaggressionandmadetactlesslyfrankremarks.She regarded theChristopher–Heinz relationshipwith an amusedhorror.Onceshe said toChristopher: “When I see the two of youwalking down the streettogether,buttonedup inyourovercoats, I think:MyGod, theymustboreeachothertodeath,howcantheybearit?”Hedidn’ttakeoffense,forherinterestinthemwasatleastgenuine.Thethreeofthembecamefriends.

*

WhenChristopherwasachild,hehadthoughtofCopenhagenasthecapitalofHans Andersen Land. As an adult, he was still under Andersen’s spell. (Inconversation, he even maintained, more than half seriously, that “The LittleMermaid” isamoreprofoundand true-to-life tragedy thanMadameBovaryorAnnaKarenina.)But,nowthathewasactuallyinCopenhagen,hesawitmerelyas the capital of Denmark. Its connection with Andersen seemed to be onlythrough relics and historical landmarks.Maybe if Christopher had been aloneandhadhada loveaffairwithayoungDane,hewouldhave rediscovered theAndersen magic, sparkling somewhere deep down in the modern boy’scollectiveunconscious.

Fromapractical point of view,Copenhagenwas a goodplace for them tolive.Germanwasasecondlanguagethere;alleducatedpeoplespokeittosomeextent,soHeinzwaslessofaforeigner.Thefoodstuffs—butter,milk,eggs,fish,and meat—were extraordinarily appetizing, and now Christopher and Heinzcould cook for themselves. The city was clean, and bright with blondScandinavian heads. That particular winter happened to be mild; there weremanydaysofsunshine.ItwasonlywhenicyrainorsnowgustsdrovedowntheClassensgadethatChristopherfelttheawfulmelancholiaoftheNorth.

AtthebeginningofNovember,AudensentChristopherthemanuscriptofaplaycalledTheChase.Hehaddevelopeditfromanearlierplaywrittenbythetwo of them, The Enemies of a Bishop. Auden asked for suggestions andChristopher was eager tomake them, especially sinceTheChase was almostcertainly going to be produced byRupertDoone’sGroupTheatre. TheGroupTheatrehadalreadyproducedAuden’sTheDanceofDeath inFebruaryofthatyear,withDoonehimselfintheleadingrole.

Duringtheweeksthatfollowed,Christopher’scorrespondencewithWystanabout the play became a collaboration.Christopher outlined some new scenesandsomerevisionsofexistingscenes.Afewhewrotehimself,othersheaskedWystan to write. Wystan always enjoyed being set such tasks; they were achallengetohisimmensecreativepowers.Ican’trememberthatheeverrefusedoreverfailedtoproducewhathadbeenaskedfor.

Christopher’sdiary,November24:

EverydayIgoouttobuythemilk,sneakingroundthecornertolookattheposters.KrigsFare(WarDanger)andsoforth.TheDanishpaperstakeasadisticdelightinexaggeratingeverynewalarmingreport.

Why am I in such an awful funk? Partly of course because I don’t want to die.MuchmorebecauseIdreadtheArmyitself—likegoingbacktoschoolagain—andIdreadleavingHeinz.Butitisthewaitingwhichissoawful.ThelittlemoneyIhavewouldstopifwarweredeclared.Weshouldneverbeallowedtostayhere.Intheend,Iknow,IshouldhavetoreturntoEngland.

Heinz said tome thismorning, “You seem tohaveno interest for anything anymore.You’remakingmeasmiserableasyouareyourself.Ifwarcomes,it’llcome.”

There was, in fact, no major political crisis in Europe just then. But

Christopher and all his fellow worriers in that war-doomed period were likepatientswithaterminaldisease—apttobecomeacutelyawareoftheirconditionfromtimetotime,eveniftherewerenosymptomsofittoremindthem.

Hisdiaryentrycontinues:

Ihave failed todomyduty.Myplace is inEnglandwith theCommunists. I amadeserter andapotentialtraitor.

AletterfromEdwardUpward,earlierthatyear,revealsthatChristopherhaswrittentoOliveMangeotinthesametone:

Olive showedmeyour letter inwhichyou said somethingaboutbeing silently judged.Ofcoursethat’salltrash,because—thoughMarxmaynothavesaidit—eachofushelpstherevolutionbestbyusinghisownweapons.Andyourbestweaponisobviouslywriting.It’smymisfortunethatIhavetofightasafifth-rateteacher.

Areligiousdevoteesometimescultivatesmoralscruplesandtellsthemtohisfather confessor, who dismisses them as a form of self-regard which isessentially hypocritical. Christopher seems to have been cultivating politicalscruplesinthesamemanner.Edward,likeawiseconfessor,callsthem“trash.”Ithink that Christopher was merely homesick for his friends in England, bothCommunist and non-Communist. Much more candid and revealing is hisstatementthatheisapotentialtraitor—inotherwords,thathesuspectshimselfofnotbelongingtotheCommunistsideaswholeheartedlyashepretendsto.

*

OnNovember30,ChristopherwentovertoMalmö,wherehehadbeeninvitedtogivealectureon“MyExperiencesinanEnglishFilmStudio.”WhentheferryfromDenmarkdocked,ChristopherwasgreetedbyapartyofhospitableSwedeswhoatoncebegansympathizingwithhim.Howmiserable itmustbeforhim,theysaid,toliveinCopenhagen.Doubtlesshehadn’thadasquaremealorarealdrinksincehisarrivalthere;theDanesunderstoodnothingaboutpleasure.Theyrushed him into a restaurant and stuffed himwithSwedish delicacies,washeddownbyfull-strengthSwedishpunch.Findinghimselfatlengthstandingdazed

andunsteadyonaplatform,hewasatfirstscared;neverbeforehadhetriedtolecturewhendrunk.Thenherealizedthatmostoftheaudiencewasdrunk,too.Helaughedatthem.Theylaughedbackathim,andapplauded.Thelecturewasasuccess.Afterwards, theypaidhimtheirhighestcompliment, tellinghimthathewasn’tliketheordinaryEnglishman.

*

Theyear 1935 came in darkwith newworries.Christopher had found that hewould have to pay Danish income tax. Also, the Danish police suspectedChristopherofbeinga“political”writer—refusing,however,tosayexactlywhattheymeantby“political.”ItseemedclearthatheandHeinzwouldn’tbeallowedtostayinthecountryindefinitely,eveniftheyshouldwanttodoso.

Butthen,onJanuary10,Audenarrived—byairplane.HehadgotFaberandFaber,hispublishers,toadvancethemoneyforhisticketonthegroundthatthiswastobeabusinessdiscussion.Wonderful,unpredictableWystan!Christopherwas hugely impressed. Flying still seemed an act of daring to him.He didn’tventuretotryithimselfforanothertwoyears.

Together,theyworkedthroughtheplay,makingminoralterations.TheyhadnowagreedtocallitWhereIsFrancis?Itsfinaltitle,TheDogbeneaththeSkin,wassuggestedlater,byRupertDoone.

WystanwasthebestpossiblecureforChristopher’sdepression.Hispresencedemanded entertainment and intellectual response. By entertaining him,Christopher automatically became a better version of himself; he cheeredhimselfup.ThismusthavemadepoorHeinz’slifemorecheerfultoo.

*

OnFebruary7,ChristophersentKathleenapostcard,askinghertogetintouchwithhispress-cuttingsagencyandwarnthemtobeonthelookoutforreviewsofMr.NorrisChangesTrains,whichtheHogarthPresswouldbepublishingsoon.

Christopher had askedKathleen to do him other such favors from time totime. But this was something much more; it was the inauguration of a newrelationship between them. Henceforward, Kathleen, with Richard as her

assistant, would be Christopher’s London representative. During the next fewyears,shewouldbecontinuallywritinglettersandmakingphonecallstoeditorsandpublishers.Shewouldalsobadgerthosewhohadfailedtokeeppromisesorfollow up leads—including, quite often, Christopher’s official literary agent.Christopher rewarded her occasionally by telling her that she was worth tenagentsputtogether.Hisexcusetohimselfforloadingherwithallthisworkwasthatsheenjoyedit.Probablyshedid,forshewasthusabletohaveashareinhislife.

*

ChristophertoKathleen,February11:

Hereweskatebutaresad.Verysoon,compulsorymilitaryservicewillbereintroducedinGermany.What isHeinz todo? Ifhegoesback,hebecomespartof themachineandwon’tbeallowedoutagainforthenextfiveyears,perhapslonger.Ifhedoesn’t,heisanexilefortherestofHitler’sstayandthatmaymeanalifetime.Heishorrifiedatthethoughtofgoing.InGermanyhehasonlyhisoldgrandmother,whowill soon die, twomarried aunts, and his father,who didn’t bring himup andwhomheneversees.

Ifhestayswithmehemustmakesomekindoflifeforhimself.Hewantstoliveinthecountryandkeepanimals.Butwhere?

In1938,hispassportwillexpire.Hewillhavetogetanothernationalitysomehow,Isuppose,butthisisfearfullydifficultandtakesagreatdealoftime.

ChristophertoKathleen,February26:

Lately, Ihavebeenseriously thinkingofemigrating toSouthAfrica!SouthAfrica isundoubtedlythebestdominionforGermans.AndHeinzmightgraduallyturnintoaBoerandfromaBoerintoaBriton.Also,ifwehadacoupleofacresoflandthereandacottage,itcouldbeinhisnameandgivehimakindofstatus.

Evenhisfathernowfranklyadviseshimnottoreturn,sohisconscienceisbecomingeasieronthesubject.

StephenSpendertoChristopher,March7:

YouwillknowbynowthatyournovelishighlypraisedintheTelegraphandtheStatesmanandtheSpectator. I also saw theWoolfs last night and Leonard toldme that he had just arranged for asecondprinting.

IamterriblysorryforyouandHeinzaboutthisGermanconscription.Leonardsaysnowthatawarisinevitable,astheworldhasgotintotheviciousrearmamentcircleof1912.MorganForsteralsohasgivenuphopeoftherebeingpeace.

Whydon’tyougo toAmerica?I thinkIwouldemigratenow, if I thoughtIcouldwriteaboutanythingifIwereawayfromEurope.Isomehowfeelthatyouwouldbeabletowritethere,perhapsevenbetterthaninEngland.

Ithinkallawritercando,theonlycompletelyrevolutionaryattitudeforhimtoday,istotryandcreatestandardswhicharereallycivilized.

ChristophertoKathleen,March12:

Mr.NorrisiscertainlygettingmoreappreciationthanTheMemorial,thoughIcan’tsaythatIfindanyofthecriticsparticularlyintelligentintheirremarks.Iammuchshockedatthecallousnesswithwhichtheyallcompletelyignorethetragedyattheend.TheyseemtofindGermanpoliticsjustonelonglaugh.

HowcuriousofUncleHenrynot to like thebook. I’d felt certain that itwas just theDickensaspect ofMr.Norriswhichwould have appealed to him. Indeed, I feel thatMr.Norris, far frombeingmoderninconception,isalmosttoofaithfultotheEnglishComicTraditionthatonegetssosickofhearingabout.ThisisobviouslywhatpleasedComptonMackenzie.

(What Henry had chiefly objected to was Christopher’s use of the nameBradshaw for his Narrator. According to Henry’s social mystique, Isherwoodwasameretradesman’snamewhileBradshawepitomizedthefamily’sclaimtoaristocratic status and historical importance. Therefore, Christopher hadcommittedsacrilegebydraggingWilliamBradshawdownintothecompanyofcriminalsandproletarians.Nodoubt,Henryalsodeploredthecoarsenessofthenovel’s humor—not because it shocked him personally, but because it mightshockthetitledladieswhosefriendshiphesogreatlyvalued.)

AnotherpsychologicalsurpriseistheattitudeofMr.Norrishimself.Nowthatthebookisout,hehasforgottenallfeelingsofinjury.Heeagerlysearchesthepressforreviewsandnotessuccesseswithproprietarypride:“WegotaverygoodnoticeintheTelegraph,”etc!

YesterdayIgotthefollowingtelegram:“VerygladindeedtomeetfascinatingMr.Norris.Sincerecongratulations.Viertel.”

Christopher’snext letter toKathleen—his last fromCopenhagen—refers toHitler’sofficialdeclarationofMarch16denouncingtheclausesoftheVersaillesTreaty which agreed to German disarmament and proclaiming the immediate

introductionofconscription:

AssoonasHeinzhasbeenformallycalledupandhasformallyrefusedtoreturntothatmadhouse,hebecomes,ofcourse,fromtheNazipointofview,acriminal.Sohemustgetanothernationality,eitherbyadoptionorbysettlinginsomeforeigncountry.Adoptionwouldprobablybetheeasier,ifonecouldfindtherightsortofpeopletoundertakeit.Failingthat,somenationalitywhichcanbeboughtoutright.

This isChristopher’sfirstmention toKathleenof thepossibility thatHeinzmightchangehisnationalitybypurchase.GeraldHamiltonmusthavesuggestedit.

Gerald was then in Brussels, and it was to Brussels that Christopher andHeinzwentfirst,afterleavingDenmarkonApril13.

ChristophertoStephen,from44AvenueLongchamps,April19:

BrusselsseemsverylivelyafterCopenhagen.Itisraffishandshabby,withdarkmonkeyisherrandboysandgreatslowFlamandswithfaceslikebitsofrawmeat.AndtherearekiosksandqueerdivesandtheHostiscarriedtothedyingthroughthestreetswithpeoplekneelingasitgoesby.AlsothereistheManneken-Pis,thestonepissingfountainofwhichyou’llhaveseenphotos.Youcanbuybrassreproductionsofitinallshops,witharubbertubeandbulbattached,tosquirtwateratyourfriends.Allthisrathergoestoone’sheadaftertheendlesstwilightwinterinourattractivebutterribleflat.Ifeeldeliveredfromallkindsofvaguesuffocatingapprehensions.

Also,ofcourse,thereisGerald,inthepinkofhealthandpartedforeverfromhiswig.Hehasn’tchangedintheleast.

AboutHeinzandconscription. Ihave thought thewhole thingover, allways, forweeks.But,lookhere,surelythefactthatoneistakingonresponsibilityisn’tinitselfanargumentonewayortheother?Therewouldbejustasmuchresponsibility(ormore)insendinghimbacktoGermany.Supposethewarcamebeforehe’dfinishedservingandsupposehewaskilled;who’dberesponsiblethen?And,lookingatitfromthemoralstandpoint,isn’titmuchlessdefensibletogoandlicktheirbootsnow,whenyou’veevery intentionofdeserting themlater?Myplansare to leaveEuropeassoonaspossibleforacountrywhereHeinzcansettledownandwork.And,inthemeanwhile,ifheis called up, to do everything possible to avoid giving a direct No, employing dummy medicalreportsandsimilardevices.Thisallsoundsratherdesperate,perhaps.ButIdon’tfeelthatwayaboutit;atleast,notjustnow.Ibelieve,inmyplace,you’ddomuchthesame.

(This sounds as if Stephenmust havewritten to Christopher, pointing outthat, by encouragingHeinz not to return toGermany, hewasmaking himselfresponsible forHeinz’swhole future.This letter ofStephen’s has been lost, if

indeed it ever existed. Anyhow, the above can also be read as part of acontinuingdialoguewhichChristopherwashavingwithhisownconscience.)

*

AttheendofApril,ChristophervisitedLondon,leavingHeinzinBrussels.HereturnedonMay12.Nextday, theycrossed thefrontier toRotterdam,becauseHeinz’s permit to stay in Belgium had to be renewed by a Belgian consulateabroad. The Belgians refused to grant the permit. Germans were not popularwith them,especiallywhentheyhadnoveryconvincingreasonforwanting tolive in Belgium. Christopher and Heinz weren’t unduly dismayed, however.TheyagreedthattheywouldjustassoonliveinHolland.

OnMay20,ChristopherwrotetoKathleenfromAmsterdam,tellingherthatthey had taken a room at Emmastraat 24. This was where Heinz had stayedwhileChristopherwas finishingworkonLittleFriend. They got onwellwiththeirlandlady,aGermanwhohadmarriedaDutchman.

ChristopherfeltverymuchathomeinAmsterdam.Itwasaplaceofcomfortfor a worrier, because it created a snug, smug atmosphere of security—nevermindhowfalse.AbitterlyhumorousrefugeelatertoldhimthattheDutchwereconvincedtheywouldneverbeinvadedbecause,astheysaid,“Wecanfloodthewholecountry”and“Aqueenisonthethrone.”

Whatdoes“Amsterdam”evokeformenow?Thestaircaseofaseventeenth-centuryhouse,sosteepthatyoucantouchthestepsaboveyouwithyourchin,whileclimbing;thesmellofcanalwaterinthesummersun,gamybutpleasing;the crowds of wind-reddened cyclists, Christopher and Heinz amongst them,pedalingacrosstheflatland,belowtheleveloftheseatheyaregoingtoswiminandthedunesofZandvoortwheretheywillmakelove.WhatIcan’trecallisthetasteofmilkchocolateeatenbetweengulpsofbeer.Christopherwasfondofthecombination in those days, especially when drunk. Now I can’t even bringmyselftotryit.

*

Joe Ackerley, whomChristophermust havemet by this time, had just begun

editingtheartandbookpagesofTheListener.HeinvitedChristophertobecomeoneofhis reviewers.Christophergladlyaccepted,notonlybecauseheneededthe extra money but because this was another challenge, like film writing.Between1935and1937,hereviewedabout thirty-fivebooks.HeaskedJoe tosend him, whenever possible, contemporary autobiographies by people whoweren’t celebrities—a horse trainer, for example, or a prison doctor, or anordinary seaman. These required no special knowledge and no research; youjudgedthempurelyon thebasisof theircontents.Suchabookisprobably theonlybookwhichitsauthororauthoresswilleverwrite.Itisthus,inasense,amasterpiece, the definitive statement about an individual life. It will, nearlyalways, have something in it which can be sincerely praised—a moment ofartless frankness, a warmth of innocent joy, an anecdote so incredible that itcouldneverhavebeeninvented.

When, however, Christopher was obliged to write about the work of hisliterary colleagues, he found himself becoming either overpolite or demurelybitchy.Histonealwaysrangalittlefalse.

*

ForstertoChristopher,May11:

HavenowreadMr.Norristwiceandhavemuchadmirationandenjoyment.Ilikeditlessthefirsttime because it is not altogether my sort of book—dwells on the contradictions rather than thecomplexitiesofcharacter,andseems to revealpeople facetbyfacetwhereasTheMemorial ifmymemoryservestackledstrata.However,Igotoverthatandmanagedtoreadwhatyou’vewritten,Ithink.

TheconstructionisfineandMargotwasacompletesurprisetome.It’smarvelloustoothewayyou’vemaintainedstandardsofrightandwrongandyetleftNorrisanendearingperson.Andyou’vemadehimbothsillyandwitty,likeacharacterinCongreve.He’sawfullygood.

The necessity of combining knowingness and honesty in William renders him more of aproblem,forinarttheseareuneasybedfellows.However,youbringhimthroughprettywell.IwasalittleworriedinSwitzerlandtowhatextenthewaspayinghisemployer’swaywiththeBaron.Didhegothewholehogorturnapig-skincheek?Idon’ttheleastmind,butfeelthatinthefirstcasehewouldviolatethefastidiousnessandinthesecondtheintegrityofhischaracter.

Actually,thenovelmakesitclearthat,bythetimetheystartforSwitzerland,

theBaronnolongerfindsWilliamsexuallyattractive.Sothereisnoquestionoftheirgoingtobedtogether,evenifWilliamwouldhaveagreedtoit.Forstermustsurelyhaverealizedthis.ItnowseemstomethattheconcernheexpressesaboutWilliam’sintegrityisreallyaconcernaboutChristopher’sowncharacter.Seeingcertain weaknesses in it, Forster administers an oblique, affectionately gentle,butneverthelessearnestwarning.

*

AttheendofMay,ChristopherwentalonetoBrusselsfortheweekend,astheguest of Gerald Hamilton. Gerald wanted Christopher to help him revise themanuscript of an autobiographywhich he hadwritten. It was to be calledAsYoung as Sophocles—a title taken from a passage inWilliam Johnson Cory’spoem,“Academus”:

I’llborrowlife,andnotgrowold,

AndnightingalesandtreesShallkeepme,thoughtheveinsbecold,AsyoungasSophocles.AndwhenImaynolongerliveThey’llsay,whoknowthetruth,Hegavewhate’erhehadtogiveTofreedomandtoyouth.

ItwascharacteristicofGerald’speculiarkindofvanitythathewasable, inallseriousness,toapplythelastfouroftheselinestohimself.

Duringthatweekend,hetookChristophertolunchwithamillionaire,oneofhisprospectiveclient-victims.Beinginthepresenceofgreatwealthwenttohishead like alcohol.He sparkledwith epigrams.Although themillionaire spokequite fluent English, Gerald insisted on talking French, his favorite language.Referringtothecapitalistsystem,hesaidgaily,“Jeprotestemaisj’enprofite.”

BecauseofHeinz,Christopherwasnowmoredeeply involvedwithGeraldthaneverbefore.GeraldwastheonlypersonheknewwhocouldgetthepermitsHeinz needed and perhaps help him change his nationality. Gerald was then“workingon”(asheput it)Heinz’spermit to live inBelgium,butheadmittedthatitmighttakeseveralmoremonthsofnegotiationwiththepolice.ThiswasChristopher’sincentivetohelpGeraldwithhisautobiography.

Christopherwasn’t irked or humiliated by their involvement, for he reallylikedGerald.Withhim,youneverhadtopretend.GeraldinhabitedaworldintowhichChristopherhadbarelypeeped;onemightcallit“real,”foritwaswithouthypocrisy, its ends andmeanswere frankly criminal. Itwas aworld inwhichappalling things could happen to you as amatter of course; ruin, prison, evenmurder,wereitsoccupationalaccidents.Geraldhadsufferedsomeofthesebuthewasstilldeterminedtoremaininitandsurvive.Christopherwassometimesshocked and repelled by the glimpses he got of this world. Nevertheless,Gerald’sexampleencouragedhimtolivehisownlifemoreboldly.

*

ItmusthavebeeninMaythatErika,ThomasMann’seldestdaughter,arrivedinAmsterdamwithhercabaretcompany,DiePfeffermuehle(ThePeppermill).Its

sketches were mostly satirical and anti-Nazi. It had already performed withsuccess in other countries bordering on Germany where German wasunderstood. Through Klaus Mann, who was also in Amsterdam at that time,ChristophermetErika,aslimdark-eyedhandsomewomanofabouthisownage.On the stage, she had the air of a political leader rather than of a performer,confrontingtheFascistfoewithscornfulhumorandbeautifulpoiseandcourage.Also in the company was the unforgettable actress Therese Giehse.Mymostvividmemoryofherisinasceneinwhichshenursedtheglobeoftheworldonherlaplikeasickchildandcroonedweirdlyoverit.

One day, Erika said to Christopher with an embarrassed laugh: “I havesomethingratherpersonaltoaskyou—willyoumarryme?”Shehadbeentoldthat theNaziswereabout to takeawayherGermancitizenship, since shewasnowapublicenemyoftheThirdReich.BymarryinganEnglishman,shecouldbecomeaBritishsubjectinstantaneously.

Christopher felt honored, excited, amused—and reluctantly said no. Thereason, ashevaguelyphrased it toErika,was that “itwouldcausedifficultieswithmyfamily.”Thiswastrue,inasense.Kathleen,whostillobstinatelyhopedfor grandchildren produced in wedlock, would have been horrified by such amarriageofconvenience.IfChristopherhadbeenfeelingaggressivetowardherjustthen,itmighthavepleasedhimtocrossher.Buthewasn’t,andanyhowhehadstrongermotivesforrefusingErika.Oneofthesewasthathewasafraidofcompromising Heinz, who might well have been exposed to the ensuingpublicityandbrandedbytheNazisastheminionofthehusbandoftheirenemy.Idon’tthinkChristopherwasmistaken,here.

Hisothermotivewasfarlessreasonablebutasstrong—hisrootedhorrorofmarriage.Tohim,itwasthesacramentoftheOthers;thesupremeaffirmationoftheirdictatorship.Evenwhenhisheterosexualfriendsgotmarried,Christopherfoundtheiractionslightlydistasteful.Whenhisbasicallyhomosexualfriendsgotmarried—declaringthattheywerereallybisexual,orthattheywantedchildren,or that their wife was “someone who understands”—Christopher expressedsympathybutfeltdisgust.Later,manyofthesewouldstarthavingsexwithmenon the side,while stillmaintaining thatmarriage alone ismeaningful and that

homosexuality is immature—i.e., disreputable, dangerous, and illegal …However,ImustadmitthatChristopherhimselfwasbehavingimmaturelywhenheshrankfrommarryingErikalestsomebody,somewhere,mightsuspecthimoftryingtopassasaheterosexual.

Christopher suggested thathe shouldwrite toAuden, explain the situation,andaskifhewaswilling.Erikaagreed.Audenwiredback:“Delighted.”Whenthe telegramarrived,Christopher felt a little envious.SirWystanhadwon thegloryofaknight-errantwhorescuestheladyfromthemonster.Nevertheless,heneverseriouslyregrettedhisowndecision.

Notimewaswasted.ErikawentovertoEnglandandwasmarriedtoWystanatLedbury,Herefordshire,becauseitwasneartheDownsSchool,wherehewasthen teaching. On June 15, the very day of thewedding, Goebbels—unawarethat the joke was on him—solemnly announced that Erika was no longer aGerman.

(In 1939, not long after their arrival in the United States, Wystan andChristophervisitedThomasandKatiaMann,whowerethenlivingatPrincetonwithErika,Klaus,andsomeoftheirotherchildren.AphotographerfromTimehappened to be present. Thomas askedWystan and Christopher to pose withthem for a group portrait. “I know Mr. Auden’s your son-in-law,” said thephotographer, “but Mr. Isherwood—what’s his relation to your family?”Thomas’spromptreplymadeeverybodylaughbutthephotographer,whodidn’tunderstandGerman:“Familypimp.”)

*

InalettertoKathleen,June21,Christophertellsherthathehasstartedanovel,thedaybefore:

Ihopeit’sgoingtobereallygood.NotsosuperficialasNorrisandyet,initsownway,funnier.ItsheroisasortofvanderLubbe,anembodimentofthemadnessandhysteriaofourtime.Heisthetypeofidealliarwhonolongerhastheleastnotionthatheisn’ttellingthetruth.IthinkIcanmakehimratherheroic.

Christopherhadbeenplanningthisnovelforsometime.Hehaddecidedto

callitPaulIsAlone.Hereisanoutlineof itsaction,put togetherfromvariousnotesinhisdiary:

Part One: Ambrose [Francis] is living on the island of St. Nicholas. One night, Paul makes adramaticappearancetherebyswimmingacrossfromthemainland.Heisinastateofnear-collapsefromhunger.Ambrosehashimfedandgivenaplacetosleep.

Paul proves to be an efficient cook. He takes charge of the kitchen, bosses the Greek boysaround,andservesexcellentmeals.He tries to impressAmbrosebyplaying themysteryman.Headmits that he has no money but won’t say how he got to Greece. He calls himself Paul vonHartmannandclaimstobeaGermanbaron.HementionsseveralEnglishmenoftitledfamiliesasbeinghisfriends.Fromhisdescriptionsofthem,Ambroserealizesthathemustindeedknowthem.ButAmbroseismorepuzzledthanimpressed,becausePaulspeaksEnglishlikeanativeandwithaslightCockneyaccent.AmbroselaterfindsthatPaul’sGermanisalsothatofanative,buteducated,upper-class.

Withinafewdays,acharming,good-natured,unaffectedyoungGermanturnsup.HisnameisFritz.HetellsAmbrose thathehasbeenwanderingaroundGreece,afterescapingfromGermany,wherehewasarrestedby theNazisasaCommunist.At first,Paul tries tobecomeFritz’s specialfriend.ButsoonFritzissopopularwithAmbroseandtheGreeksthatPaulgetsjealousofhim.PaulstealsaringbelongingtoAmbroseandmakesitappearthatFritzstoleit.SoAmbrosesendsFritzaway.

ThenanEnglishfriendofAmbrosearrivestostay.HeatoncerecognizesPaulasawaiterfromaclubtowhichhebelongsinLondon.Paulwasdismissedfromtheclubfortheft.TheEnglishmenhehasclaimedashisfriendswere,infact,membersoftheclub;Paulonlyknewthembywaitingonthem. He has come to Greece as a steward on a tourist-liner and jumped ship. Paul is utterlyhumiliatedwhentheEnglishmantellsthistoAmbrose.Heleavestheislandatonce.

Part Two: Paul is back in London, down and out. An Austrian film-director named Bergmann[Viertel]meetsPaulwhilehe isstrolling thestreetsatnight, isamusedbyhis talkandconcernedabout his half-starved condition and therefore brings him home. Bergmann’s wife MagdaimmediatelytakesastronginterestinPaulwhich,atfirst,ismotherly.

Paulplaysuptobothofthembybecomingwhathesensestheywanthimtobe—athiefandaliarwho isnevertheless romantically innocent.He tells them thathe isBritish,ofAnglo-Germanparentage; thathehasposedas aGermanbaron (hisGermanmotherwasmerelyupper-class andunhappilymarriedtoaworking-classEnglishman);thathehasbeenawaiter;thathehasstolenfromhisemployersandfromAmbrose.Heimpliesthatheisunabletostopstealingorlying;heneedstheBergmanns’help.

BergmannandMagda,whoaretherealinnocentsinthissituation,areeagertohelphim.SincePaul speaksGerman and is also efficient and quick to learn,Bergmann hires him as a secretary-assistant. Sometimes Paul goes with him to the studio where Bergmann is directing his film;sometimesPaulworksforMagdaattheirapartment.

Magdafanciesherselfasapsychologist.ShebelievesthatshecancurePaulofhiskleptomaniaby showing him love and trust. She begins giving him jobswhich involve him in handling their

money.Atfirst,heprovesworthyofhertrust;healsorespondstoherlove,aslongasitismotherly.But,whenshe tries toseducehim,he is repelledandembarrassed—all themoresobecausehe ishomosexual.Herunsaway,takingalargesumofmoneywithhim.

PartThree:PaulisstayingatahotelintheCanaryIslands.ThankstotheBergmanns’money,heiswell-dressedandtemporarilywell-off.Heposesasafilm-actorwhowillshortlyappearinhisfirststarringrole—underanewnamewhichheisn’tatlibertytotelluntilthestudioisreadytostartitspublicity-campaignforhim.HemakesthissoundconvincingbyhisdescriptionsoflifeinthestudioashehasseenitwhileworkingwithBergmann.

Meanwhile, stressing theGermansideofhisancestry,hemakes friendswithseveralGermanswhoarelivingintheislands.Oneofthese,ayoungschoolmaster,istheleaderofaNazigroup.Paulfallsinlovewithhimandbecomeshisdisciple—althoughhehasexpressedviolentanti-NaziviewswhilelivingwiththeJewishBergmanns.

The schoolmaster and Paul climb the Pico on Tenerife. That night, at the rest hut, theschoolmasterpreachesHitlerismtohimwithNordicruthlessness.Thissceneendsinasex-act.PaulisnowsoinfatuatedthatheagreestospyononeoftheGermanresidentswhoisaprofessedNazibutwhomtheschoolmastersuspectsofbeingatraitor.

Paulcultivatesthefriendshipofthismanuntilheistrustedbyhim.WhennewscomesthatHitlerhaskilledRoehm,themansaysdelightedlythatthiswillmeanthedownfalloftheNaziregime.PaulreportshiswordstotheschoolmasterandtherestoftheNazigroup.Theygototheman’shouseandbeathimupsobadlythatheisn’texpectedtolive.Paul,terrified,leavesbythenextship.IthappenstobegoingtoDenmark.

PartFour:InCopenhagen,PaulmarriesaGerman-Jewishgirlwhosepassportisabouttoexpire,inordertogiveherBritishnationality.SheisaCommunistandthisearnshimtherespectandtrustoftheotherCommunistsinthecity.Hegoestolivewiththegirlandherlover,whoisalsoaGermanCommunist.

PaulpretendstohaveworkedwiththeCommunistsinGermanyatthetimeofHitler’scomingtopower.He tells,ashisownadventures, thestoriesFritz toldhimonSt.Nicholas.SinceFritzwasfromMunichandthegirlandherloverarefromBerlin,Paulrunsverylittleriskofbeingfoundout.

ThenthelovergoesbacktoGermanyonamissiontotheCommunistunderground.Timepasses.Hedoesn’treturn.Itisnearlycertainthathehasbeencaught.

AndnowPaulbecomesthevictimofhisownfantasiesandlies.Hecan’tresistmakingthegrandgesture—volunteeringtogointoGermanyhimselfandfindoutwhathashappenedtothelover.TheotherCommunistsagreetothis,believingthatPaulisanexperiencedactivistandthathehasasgoodachanceofsurvivingasanyofthem,ifnotabetter.Whereas,ofcourse,hehasalmostnochance;hehasneverevenbeeninGermanybefore.

Paulcrossesthefrontierandthatisthelasttheyeverhearofhim.Induecourse,theybegintohonorhimasoneof theirmartyreddead.But the reader,knowingPaulmuchbetter than theydo,mayhavecertaindoubts.

(Paulwasn’taportraitofanyparticular individual.Thegeneral ideaof thecharacter was based on an Englishman whom Christopher had known briefly

duringhisearlydaysinBerlin.Thisyoungmanwasakleptomaniac—orperhapsheposed asone tomakehimself seemmore interesting.ChristopherpreachedHomerLanetohimandproposedacureintheclassicLanetradition—theyoungmanwastogoonstealingbuthewasalsotokeepaledgerinwhichheenteredtheestimatedvalueofeverythinghestole,asthoughhewererunningabusiness.Thiswastomaketheftunromantic.Thecuredidn’twork.ButChristopherlaterpretended,toStephenandothers,thatitdid.)

LikeTheLost,PaulIsAlonewasanattemptbyChristophertopackasectionof his past life into a plot structure—in this instance, his experiences sinceleaving Berlin, up to and including the Auden–Mann marriage. When hedescribedthenovelinoutline—muchmoresensationallythanIhavedonehere—toUpward,Auden,Spender,andLehmann,theywereallenthusiastic.Onlyhehimself was full of misgivings. Again and again, by talking about it to hisfriends,hetalkedhimselfintocontinuing;againandagain,helostfaithinit.Hetinkeredwith it, on and off, for at least a year, but produced nomore than acoupleofchapters.

Finallyherealizedthathesimplywantedtodescribehislifeashehadlivedit. What inspired him was the commentary he would make on it, not themelodrama he could make out of it. Certainly, he would fictionalize manyepisodesinordertosimplifythemandthusrevealtheiressence;achange-overfromfacttofictionoftenbeginswiththeweedingoutofsuperfluousdetails.Buthecouldtellhisownlies;hedidn’tneedaPaultotellthemforhim.Thatwouldmerelyputhisfictionatadoubleremovefromfact.

*

OnJuly7,JohnLehmanncametoAmsterdamtotalktoChristopheraboutNewWriting, the magazine he was planning to edit and publish next spring.Christopherwould soon owe a great debt to John.His continuing demand formaterialforcedChristophertodowhathewasstupidlyunwillingtodo—publishtherestofhisBerlinwritingsasdisconnectedfragments,suitable in lengthforthemagazine,insteadoftryingtofitthemintoastodgy,plot-riddenstory.ThusJohnbecameresponsiblefortheinformalformofGoodbyetoBerlin.

ManyoftheirdiscussionsduringthatvisitwereheldwhilewalkingthroughtheAmsterdamstreets.Afavoritewalktookthemalongtheedgeofanathleticfield full of teenage boys. Among these were a few types of exotic beauty,products ofHolland’s colonial presence in theEast Indies—Nordic blond hairandpeachskin,withIndonesiancheekbonesandliquidblackequatorialeyes.Atone corner of the field was a boxing ring. The boys didn’t fight, they onlysparred,withasportsmanlikerestraintwhichvergedabsurdlyonpoliteness.Butitwasjustthecaressingsoftnesswithwhichtheirbigleatherglovespattedeachother’s naked bodies that Christopher found distractingly erotic. His attentionwouldstrayfarfromliterature,andhisvoice,thoughcontinuingtotalkaboutit,musthavesoundedlikeaprogrammedrobot’s:“Ohyes,indeed—Idoagree—Ithinkhe’squitedefinitelythebestwriterinthatgenre,absolutely—”

*

InalettertoKathleen,July30,ChristopherreportsthatGeraldHamiltonkeepssendingpostcards,eachunderadifferentname,tooneoftheDutchpublishers,urginghimtopublishatranslationofMr.Norris inDutch;hehassentfortyofthese cards already. (The publisher, nevertheless, refused the book, giving theodd-sounding reason that it was “too topical.” Perhaps by “topical” hemeantanti-Nazi,andwasthushintingthathefeareditspublicationmightexposehimtoreprisalsbyNazisympathizersinHolland.)

*

EarlyinAugust,Kathleenpaidthemashortvisit.Shewentsightseeingwithherusualenergy,althoughDutchculturewasalittletooGermanictosuithertaste.Oneevening,whiletheywereoutforastroll,Christopherunintentionallyledheronto theZeedijk,where ladies in negligee sat at thewindows of invitingly litparlors. Kathleen behaved as though this were a street on which picturesquenativecraftsmenweresellingtheirartifacts.Sheasked,inwould-beappreciativetouristtones:“Oh,isthiswhattheycallthered-lightdistrict?”

*

On August 24, Forster and his friend, Bob Buckingham, arrived; also BrianHowardandhisfriend,Toni.(SinceIhavejustusedtheword“friend”twiceinonesentence,thisisagoodplacetocommentonit.Admittedly,itisambiguous.In Christopher’s case, for example, it had to cover his relationships withUpward, Forster,Auden, andHeinz—each one ofwhich differed greatly fromthe others in character. Nevertheless, when a male friendship includes sexuallove, I dislike referring to either of the friends as a “lover” or a “boyfriend.”Exceptintheplural,“lover”suggeststomeaone-sidedattachment;“boyfriend”alwayssoundscondescendingandoftenridiculouslyunsuitable.SoIshallgoonusing“friend”andtrytoshowwhatthewordmeanswhenappliedtoanygivenpairofpeople.)

OnAugust27,ForsterandBob,BrianandToni,StephenSpender(whohadappeared unexpectedly the day before),KlausMann, andGeraldHamilton allwentwithChristopher andHeinz toTheHague,whereGeraldhad arrangedabirthday lunch in a restaurant forChristopher. (Christopher’s birthdaywas thetwenty-sixthbuthehadbecomeaccustomedinchildhoodtocelebratingonedaylater, because the twenty-seventh was the birthday of his Grandfather John.)Soon after their arrival, a rainstorm forced them to take shelter in the nearestpublic building. It happened to be theGevangenpoort prison, now amuseum.Thiswas an emergencywhichdemanded allGerald’s art as a host.Hehad toentertain his guests without benefit of alcohol or even chairs, amidst adepressingdisplayofantiquetortureinstruments.

Thisall-malepartywasoddlyassorted.Geraldhimselfsparkledwithjokestowhichhewasn’tquiteattending;hehadanairofnervouslyexpectingthepolicetoappear.Stephensimmeredwithslygiggles,awareoftheJokebehindthejokesyetalsobasicallyinattentive,perhapsbecausehewascomposingapoem.KlausMann, charming and civilized, with his quick eager speech, talkedpessimistically but cheerfully about the times they were living in. (He haddescribedhis latest book,Flucht indenNorden, toChristopherwith a grin as“oh, another prewar novel.”) Brian Howard’s dark, heavy-lidded, keenlysearching and testing eyes missed no nuance of the situation but were maderestlessbyhisneedforadrinkandhisanxiety lestTonishouldsaysomething

gauche.HandsomeBavarianblondToni,illateaseinhisexpensiveclothes,wasonlyanxiousnottooffend,alsoinneedofadrink,andenjoyinghimselfleastofanyonepresent.Forster,beamingthroughhisspectacles,wasprobablyenjoyinghimself most, since Bob Buckingham was with him. They kept exchangingglances full of fun and affection. Bob’s thick-featured broad face was madebeautiful by its strength and good nature. Heinz had felt drawn to himimmediatelyanditseemedtoChristopherthattheyhadakindofresemblance,duetotheirworking-classkinship.Hehimselfwasfeelingunusuallyhappy.

AfterhisreturntoEngland,Forsterwrote:

As forAmsterdam,my only objection to it is that I had no time therewhatever alonewith you.TherewasnothingIwantedtoimbibeorimpart,stillitwouldhavebeenanadditionalenjoyment.Afterall,wearebothofuswriters,andgoodones.

IthinkyoudidrealizehowmuchwebothlikedHeinz.

Thiswas the first of Forster’s letterswhich began “DearChristopher” andwhichwassigned“Morgan.”

*

Gerald, theeverpunctual,everpolite,used to say thatBrianHowardhad“themannersofaverygreatgenius”—bywhichhemeantthatBrianwasunreliable,unpunctual, noisy, and quarrelsome in public, apt to get drunk or doped—andthat he didn’t have the talentwhichwould have excused suchbehavior.Here,Gerald—whohadn’tmuchliterarytaste—waswrong.Briandidhavetalentasapoet.Whatwasinexcusablewasthatheuseditsoseldom.Hisself-indulgencewas babyish; hewas one of themost fascinating and dangerous babies of hisgeneration. If you flattered yourself that you could wean him away frombabyhood,hewasdelightedtoletyoutry,foraslongasyourpatienceheldout.But you couldn’t complain later that he hadn’t warned you you’d fail—andmaybe end by acquiring his vices, into the bargain. Indeed, he warnedChristopher,thatwould-behealer:“Whatyoumustrealize,mydear,isthatyoucanneverunderstandsomeonelikeme—someonewho’sdevotedhisentire lifetopleasure.”Briancontrivedtopronouncetheword“pleasure”inatonewhich

broughtachilltoChristopher’sspineandsuggestedthegrimmestausteritiesofthemedievalmonks.

ChristopherhadenoughsensenottogettooinvolvedwithBrianpersonally,butforawhileitseemedthatcircumstancesmightthrowhimandHeinztogetherwithBrianandToniasafoursome.TonihadbeenrefusedpermissiontoliveinEngland—on the ground that he had associated with a drug addict during apreviousvisit—sonowheandBrian,likeChristopherandHeinz,werelookingforacountrywheretheycouldsettle.

September1.DinnerwithBrianandToni.TheyhavenowheardfromIrelandanditseemsdoubtfulwhetherit’sworthgoingthere,asthereisanexchangeofalienlistswithEngland.BrianwantstogotoPortugal, buy a ruinedpalace, andkeephens andgoats andgroworanges.Toni keepsmakingobjectionsandwarnsBrian inadvance thathewon’tclean the shitoff thegoats.Briangotangrywith him and alarmed that his lack of enthusiasmwould put us off.Actually, I don’twant to gounlesswecangetGeraldorStephentocomewithus.

September6.LastnightwewentoutwithBrianandToniandsat inthecafebytheConcertHall.The boys played billiards. Brian discussed the various fittings of the cafe, piece by piece—thelamps, the vases, the ornaments—and described the artistic pedigree of each: sham Louis XIV,bastardOrientalmixedwith Second Empire, pre-war arty German (balls on strings) etc, etc.Heknowsagooddealaboutthehistoryofbadtasteandwasveryamusing.

Christopher’s diary also describes a teatime scene in the lounge of a hotelwhereChristopherandBrianaresittingtogether.Brianproducesfromhispocketatwistofpapercontainingsomewhitepowder.“Doyouknowwhatthisis,mydear?”hesaysaggressivelyandveryloudly,toembarrassbothChristopherandtheotherguests.“Takeagood lookatit—no,it isn’tsalt,mydear,andit isn’tsugar,mydear,it’scocaine,mydear,COCAINE!”Hesniffsostentatiouslyatthepowderasheexplains that this isn’tgoodcocaine,however. “Goodcocaine issparklingwhite, so dazzling that you can’t look at it.”Continuing to sniff, hetellsChristopherthatcocaine“gathersinaknotinthechestandislikeozone,”thathashish“isliketoffee,itmakesyoufeellikethegatewaytoHell,”andthatheroin“spreadslikeastoneflowerfromthestomachtothelegsandthearms.”Christopher asks him to describe his sensations at this moment. He answers:“ImagineyourselfpartlyawonderfulcalmVenetianpalaceinthesunshineand

partlyJoanofArc.”Andthentherewasanothereveningonwhichtheyhadallbeenouttogether.

Having saidgoodnight toBrianandToni,Christopher andHeinzwalkedat aleisurelypacedownthestreettowardtheirlodgings.Meanwhile,Brianrandownaparallelstreet,waitedforthematthenextcorner,andjumpedoutatthem,withhisblackfurrygreatcoatoverhishead.Theyscreamed,firstwithsurprise,thenwithlaughter,ashechasedthem…Inretrospect,thisseemedtoChristophertohavebeen abeautifully imaginative act of affection. “Howmanyother peopleweknow,”heaskedhimself,“wouldhavecaredforusenoughtodothat?”

(BrianandTonididgotoPortugal, inOctoberof thatyear.Buttheydidn’tstay long. Christopher and Heinz saw little of them when they, too, came toPortugallater.)

*

On September 12, Christopher and Heinz went to the Belgian consulate inRotterdamandmadeanotherattempttogetHeinzapermittostayinBelgium.Again theywere refused;GeraldHamilton had, in fact, accomplished nothingforthem.ReturningdisgustedanddepressedtoAmsterdam,theyfoundaletterfrom a friend suggesting that they should try for the permit at the Belgianconsulate in Luxembourg. One could get into Luxembourg without anyformalities.

OnSeptember14, theyenteredLuxembourg,went totheBelgianconsulatethere, andwere given a thirty-day permit forHeinzwithin fiveminutes.Nextday,theytookabustripthroughwhatiscalledtheLuxembourgSwitzerland,ahillyregionofforests,whichChristopher imaginedas lookinglike thecountryofRuritania inThePrisoner of Zenda. At Echternach, the busmade a detouracross the frontier intoGermany and back. Their driver assured them that theGermanofficialswouldn’taskforpassports.Somepassengerswerenervousandpreferred to remain behind and be picked up on the return journey, butChristopher and Heinz couldn’t resist the adventure. At a café just insideGermany,theywereallowedtogetoutofthebusandspendaquarterofanhourdrinkingbeer andwritingpostcards.Ayoungman inS.S. uniformwas sitting

there,butheseemedasunrealand theatricalas theJew-Hateplacardnailed tothe wall. They mailed a postcard to Gerald but the shock which they hadintendedittogivehimwasneutralized,becausetheyarrivedinBrusselsbeforethecarddid.

September19.Wemovedinhereyesterdayevening,asecond-floorflatoverlookingtheBoulevardAdolpheMax (number 22). The living-room has fish-net curtains, huge sideboards coveredwithsilvercake-dishesandfancyashtrays,apairofsofadolls,twotablelampswhosesilkshadesaretheskirtsofballerinas—thekindusedinbrothels—sixlargeandsmallphotosofClarkGableandsixofRamonNovarro,aminiatureaeroplanepropellorsupportingawholebunchofsnaps,good-lookingyoung airmenmostly (one of them signed: “pourClaire, 1’audacieuse”), and a grandfather clock(whose chime I have had stopped) with weights like small artillery shells. The bedroom has ahandsomewhite bath, a dangerous gas-heater for thewater, and a big painting of Ledawith herswan.

Ourlandlady(“Clairel’audacieuse”)isgaytalkativehaggardlychicwithwavedgreyishhairanddarkenedeyelids,inasleevelesswhitesatinblouse.Sheisamazinglygenerous,getsbreakfastandcleansourroomsfornothingandisnowwashingallourclothes,forwhichsheasksonlythepriceofthesoap.

Claire was a tragic figure. I think she must have been on the verge ofstarvation. For a while at least, she had nowhere to live and Christopher andHeinzdiscoveredthatshewassleepinginthekitchenoftheflatwithouttellingthem.Thiswasanintolerablesituation;theyhadabsolutelynoprivacy.Atlast,thoughfeelingterriblyguilty,theysomehowgothertoleave.

By themiddle ofOctober, the Ethiopian crisiswas at its height. Italy hadinvaded the country and theLeagueAssemblyhadvoted to impose sanctions.Meanwhile,Heinzhadbeenrefusedasix-monthpermittostayinBelgiumandhis thirty-day permit had expired. Gerald arranged for his expulsion to bedelayedfromweektoweek,butitwasobviousthatamovemustbemadesoon.Stephenwas inBrusselswith theyoungmanwho iscalledJimmyYounger inWorldwithinWorld,andthetwoofthemhadagreedtocomewithChristopherand Heinz to Portugal. But they couldn’t leave for at least another month—Iforgetwhy.

October 19.Heinz has got spectacles, now.The oculist said tome: “Hisworld is not ourworld,Monsieur.Allhis life,vertical lineshavebeenpractically invisible tohim,whilehorizontalshave

appeared abnormally distinct.When he looks at a circle, he sees it as an oval but, since he haslearnedbyexperiencethatitiscircular,heretransformsitintoacirclewithinhisbrain.”

Theotherday,forthefirsttimeinhislife,hewenttobedwithawhore.Shehadnobreastsandwantedahundredfrancs.Itwasnotasuccess.

DuringNovember,Christopher finishedwritingTheNowaks and sent it toJohnLehmann,whowasgoingtopublishitinhisfirstissueofNewWriting,thefollowingspring.ItwouldthusbecomethefirstfragmentofGoodbyetoBerlintoappearinprint.

On December 10, Stephen, Jimmy, Christopher, and Heinz sailed fromAntwerponaBrazilianboatwhichwouldtakethemtoLisbononitswaytoRio.

TWELVE

At the timeofsailing,Christopher felt lightheadedwith relief.Thisvoyage,atleast, was going to be a holiday from worry about Heinz’s permits. And thecompanyofStephenandofJimmyYoungerofferedreliefofanotherkind;theywouldhelphimdecidewhatwastobedone,whentheyhadlandedinPortugaland facednewproblems.DuringChristopher’swanderingswithHeinz,hehadmadeallthedecisionsalone—grumblingtohimselfthatthiswasaheavyburdenhehadtobear.HewouldhavedonebettertorealizethatHeinzwasnolongeraboyandneededresponsibility.

JimmyYoungerwas ready to run theirwhole expedition, if theywould lethim.Hehad served in theArmyandbelieved ingetting thingsorganized.Hisappearancewas attractive: curly red-brown hair, sparkling yellow-brown eyes,bigsmilingteeth.HewouldcallStephen“yersillything!”andtellhim,“Don’tbe sodaft!”withaWelsh (Cardiff) accent.Hewas fullof funand the loveofargument—left-wing political or just argument for its own sake. He used thejargonofaleft-wingintellectual,buthisownkindofintelligencewasintuitiveandemotional.HehadaWelshearforthemusicofpoetryandcouldgenuinelyappreciate the work of Spender, Auden, and their fellow poets. TellingChristopherabouthis firstmeetingwithStephen,hesaid:“Thatwaswhen thecurtainwentup,forme.”

I remember thevoyage in termsofopera,with thefourof themrelating toeachothereitherasquartets,trios,orduets.Asaquartet,theirperformancewasdirectedtowardtheotherpassengers.Takingitforgrantedthatnobodyonboardcould possibly guess what they were really like, they amused themselves bybehaving with deliberate oddness—exchanging private-joke signals, grimaces,andasidesinfullviewandhearingoftheiraudience.

ThetriowasbetweenStephen,Christopher,andJimmy.Itnowseemstomethat itwas performed for Jimmy’s benefit, tomake him feel that Stephen andChristopher regarded him as one of themselves. They didn’t, altogether, andJimmymusthavebeenawarethattheydidn’t.But,perhaps,forthetimebeing,it

satisfiedJimmy’spridethattheyevenmadetheefforttopretend.Christopher’sduetwithHeinzwasmoreintimatethanithadbeenforsome

time;beingwithStephenandJimmymadethemveryconsciousofthemselvesasa couple. This didn’t mean, however, that they had yet begun to criticize theothertwo.Heinz,whocouldnowspeakahesitantbasicEnglish,alsohadaduetwithJimmy—ofnecessity,sincetheyoftenfoundthemselvesalonetogether.TheduetbetweenStephenandChristopherwaslong-establishedandhadacontinuitywhichbridged theirseparations; theydiscussedbooksandpoliticsandabstractideasandotherauthors,butveryseldomthepeopletheyhappenedtobelivingwith.TherewasnoduetbetweenStephenandHeinzorbetweenChristopherandJimmy, perhaps because both Stephen and Christopher were afraid of beingdrawn into relationshipswhichmight havemade them disloyal to each other.ChristopherdideventuallyhaveaduetwithJimmy,butthatwasmuchlaterandunderalteredcircumstances.

*

Thequartet’sconsciousefforttoenjoyitselfproducedatraveldiary.Itsentrieswerewrittenina toneofshipboardhumorandweremeant tobereadaloudatonce,beforetheycouldgostale.Hereareafewexcerpts:

Thursday, December 12, 1935. [Written by Stephen]: On Tuesday, when we left Brussels forAntwerp,Geraldcametosaygoodbye tous,wearingahugefur-linedcoatwithaskunkcollar inwhichhischinless,thick-lipped,flat-nosedfacenestled.Hewaswearingnojewelry,buttherewassuchasmellofscentintheroomafterhehadcomeinthatIsaid,“Whatladyhasbeenherewithscent?”“I’mstillhere,”heanswered,bridlingalittle.Weallkissedhimgoodbye.

Thisboat isveryoldandgoesveryslowly.Thereare two lounges,oneadrawing-room,verydecorative,withayellow-keyedgrandpiano,theotheranOldeTudorlounge,clawedoverbyfiveenormouselectricfans,hangingfromtheceilinglikevampires.Herewereadorwrite.Intheotherroom,JimmystrumsonthepianoandHeinzsings.

Thereisafatwoman,fromNorthernIrelandbuthalfBelgian,whospeaksseverallanguagesandisverytakenbyJimmy.

21.00hours.Sameday. [WrittenbyChristopher]:Weare standingoffLeHavre.ThedayhasbeendominatedbytheIrish-Belgianlady.“Oh,butyou’dlikeRio—youshouldseeut.Ifyou’vegotanartistic’eart—thatis,heart—well,artandheart,Imeanboth—naturemustspeaktoyouthere.”ButshewasshockedwhenJimmysaidhedidn’tliketheRoyalFamily;sheorderedhimofftothegymnasium:“Awaywithyouandshakeupyourliver!”

Later,Jimmyplayedthepiano:“Andthecaresthathangaroundmethroughtheweek—seemtovanishlikeagambler’sluckystreak.”

IsherwoodthenaskedSpenderwhathewasthinking.

Spender:“Iwasthinkingabouttheluckystreak.IfI’dwrittenthat,Ithought,Ishouldhavemadeitsomehow terrible and terrific. And how boring, I thought tomyself, that I can onlywrite aboutthingsterrifically.”

AtsometimeduringthecrossingoftheBayofBiscay(December14–15)—calm at first, then rough; but not rough enough tomake any of them actuallyseasick—theIrish-Belgianladyreadtheirpalmsandtoldthemtheircharacters.Christopherreportsthis:

Stephenisself-willed,violentlypursueshisideasandchangesthemfrequently,listenstoadviceandhas a nature of gold. Heinz is conceited, ambitious, and will succeed. Jimmy is Welsh—andthereforeconceited—strong-willedandmadongirls.AndI—ah,IamthekindofboyMadamehasadoredallherlife:whereverItravel,whateverIdo,I’llalwaysremainrealhundredpercentEnglish—justashy,modest,charmingboy.Thedoctorthenofferedhispalm,disclosingatoothpickwhichhehadbeengrippingallthroughthemeallikeadagger.Sherefusedtosaywhatshesawinit—itwouldshockus.

(The quartetmade a joke out of pretending towonderwhether this doctorwasreallyadoctoratall—becausePortugueseDoctor,notsimplyDoctor,wasprinted above his cabin door. Might not this phrase have some quite othersignificance,as“Dutchwife,”“Frenchletter,”and“Spanishfly”do?)

HeinzwantedtoborrowaGermanbookfromthelibraryandthisledtothediscoverythatthereisonlyonetobehad—andthatmuchmutilated.WethenappliedtotheGermans,whotoldusthatthisboatwasoriginallyaGermanboatandthattheBraziliangovernmentseizeditduringthewar.Theguiltyconsciencesof theBrazilianscaused them,according to thewhite-hairedGerman, to throwoverboard all theGermanbooks in the library.Thewhite-hairedGerman is discreetly bitter—thethin-haired younger German less bitter and less discreet and his wife an idiotically sincerechatterbox who protests, very loudly in the lounge, that Germany Wants Peace—by which shemeans,asStephensays,thatGermanywantstograbeverythingwithouthavingtofightforit.

Since his college days,Christopher had associated portwith solemn toastsproposed and tedious anecdotes told by the elderlyOthers in curtained dining

rooms.ButatOporto,wheretheylandedforafewhoursonthesixteenth,portowas simply a local wine which they drank out of doors in the midday sun;sickly-sweet, too warm, and too strong. Christopher boozily scribbled on apostcardtoKathleen:“Theshiphasaholeinherside.”Stephenfoundsomevastmetaphysicalhumorinthis(true)statementandlaughedtill thetearsrandownhis cheeks. Heinz laughed at Stephen’s laughter, with equal violence. Jimmynursemaidedthembackonboard.

That evening, a party of silly Brazilian girls declared brightly, in Heinz’spresence,thattheyhatedallGermans.Christophergotupandwalkedoutofthelounge. He enjoyed making such gestures of righteous indignation but didn’tpausetoconsiderhowmuchHeinzmustbeembarrassedbythem.

*

OnthemorningofDecember17,theirshipenteredtheestuaryoftheTagus.Bythat evening, they had settled into the Hotel Nunes at Sintra, fifteen milesoutside Lisbon. Here are Christopher’s first impressions, gathered during thenextfewdays:

Sintraisalargevillagecomposedchieflyofpalaces,ruinousandtolet.Theoverhangingcliffsaresproutingwithfern-shapedtreesandsubtropicalplants,likeanenormousrock-garden.Inthewoods,onecomesuponlockedgateways,extravagantlysculptured,leadingnowhere,andrococosummer-houseswhere an eighteenth century poetmight find inspiration for the dullest of all tragedies inheroiccouplets,withaprologue,epilogue,andfourteenacts.

ThecastleofPenaiseasilythemostbeautifulbuildinganyofushaveeverseen.Infact,ithasthe immediatestaggeringappealofsomethingwhich issham, faked,andarchitecturallywrong. Itcould hardly bemore effective if it had been erected overnight by a film company for a super-productionabout theMiddleAges.Clampedonto thehighestspikeofrockonour localrangeofhills, its Moorish-Gothic-Renaissance towers and ramparts command a view of all this part ofPortugal…Insidethecastlearethetouchinglyshabbyroyalapartments,withtheirrailway-carriageupholsteryanduncomfortablebeds.CopiesofCountryLifeandotherEnglishSocietymagazineslieaboutonthetables,fadedyellowanddated1910.(TheyearthelastkingofPortugalwasdeposed.)Inthebilliard-roomisahorse-racinggameofthekindstillfoundonseasidepiers.

Upherethereismistandthinrain.Theskyhasbeengloomyeversinceourarrival;stillwehavebeenbusyandhaven’tfeltundulydepressed.Alreadywehavefoundahouse—notthehousewhichwestillhopeonedaytodiscover,butquiteanicecottagewithasitting-room,adining-room,andfivesmallbedrooms, furnishedbrightlybutwithacertainnoteofdespair, as if for spinsters.ThehouseiscalledAlecrimdoNorte(whichisthenameofakindofevergreenbush)andit isinSan

Pedro,asuburbofSintra,higherupthehillside.Ithasawonderfulview,rightdownthevalleytothesea.

Theymoved into the cottageonDecember21.Their landladywas a gray-haired,vigorous, tweedyEnglishwomanwholivednearby.ShehadspentmostofherlifeinPortugalandcouldtellthemeverythingtheyneededtoknowaboutlocalmerchants and foodprices.Asamatterofprinciple, shewasdeterminedthattheyshouldn’tbecheated.Theyundoubtedlywerecheated,quiteoften;butPortuguese prices were so much lower than English that it hardly mattered.Indeed, it seemed to them that itwas theywhowere doing the cheating. Thelandlady found them a cook and amaid—for tiny wages, which, she assuredthem,werewellabovestandard.Theyhadbadconsciencesabout this—Jimmyespecially—butneverthelessresignedthemselvestobeingexploiters.

By the beginning of 1936, they had all of them settled down to dailyoccupations.Stephenwasworkingonabook(ForwardfromLiberalism)andaplay (The Trial of a Judge). Jimmy was acting as his secretary, keeping thehouseholdaccountsandsupervisingtheservants.(Theircookcookedfairlywellbutfatalistically;whenJimmyfoundcauseforcomplaint,shefrustratedhimbyagreeing that themealhad turnedoutbadly.)Heinznowhadanassortmentofcreaturestolookafter—ablackandwhitemongrelpuppy,namedTeddy,whichmademesses;sixhensandarooster;andsomerabbits.Healsokeptthegardentidy.ChristopherwastryingtowritePaulIsAlone.Hewas the leastcontentedmember of the household because his work wasn’t going well. So he wastedtimeindulginginanxiety,hischronicvice.Asalways,hehadanexcuse:Heinz’ssituationinPortugalwasfarfromsecure.TheGermanconsulateinLisbonknewthewhereaboutsofallGermans.Soonerorlater,itwouldsendHeinzanordertocome and register for conscription.When he failed to do this, itwould reporthim to thePortuguesepoliceasaGermanwhosecitizenshipmightperhapsbetaken away fromhim.SinceHeinz didn’t even have the status of a Jewish orpolitical refugee, the police might well decide to regard him as an ordinarycriminal and expel him from the country … Christopher’s anxiety, howeverwell-founded,didn’thelpHeinz;itinfectedhimandweakenedhiscourage.

Meanwhile, their group diary kept up a lively patter, recording domesticevents and encounters with the local inhabitants. Teddy had been cured of atapewormandgot fatbutcontinued towet thecarpet.Heinz,onbeingofferedoysters at a Lisbon restaurant, insisted, with a curious Prussian pedantry, thattherewasacorrectwayofeatingthemwhichhemustbeshownbeforehecouldstart. They all tried to show him, including the waiter, but Heinz wasunimpressed.Therewas a correctway, he repeated, thoughobviously noneofthemknewit.Sohisoystersremaineduneaten.

Asnewcomers, theywereobjectsofcuriosityandgot invited topartiesbytheir neighbors. In Holland and in Belgium, Christopher andHeinz had livedsurrounded by the tribe of the Emigration and had felt themselves part of it.(“We’veelectedyouanhonoraryJew,”arefugeehadoncetoldChristopher,asajokingcompliment.)Whenrefugeesgathered together, therewasmuchwitbutnojoy.Hitleralwaysseemedinvisiblypresent, justoutofearshot; itwasmorelikeaconspiracythanaparty.HereinPortugal,theirhostsweremostlyEnglish,Scots,or Irish—refugees fromnothingexcept theNorthEuropeanclimateandthehighercostoflivingelsewhere.Theywereagossipy,inquisitive,hospitablebunch of individualists, always on the lookout for new ears into which towhispertheirelderlyscandals.

SeveralofthemwerepreoccupiedwithwhatChristopherdismissivelycalled“magic.”Oneladypaintedspiritportraitsandgavereadingsfromthetarotcards.Anotherhadpreparedalarge-scalemapofFairyland.Anotherhadwrittendownheradventuresinapreviouslife,asaSyrianlad,duringtheRomanEmpire.

Stephendescribesameetingwithmembersofthispsychicfringe:

IheardsomeratheroddfragmentsofconversationfromthesofaonwhichMissH.andMrs.J.weresitting.MissH. said in hermatter-of-fact voice: “I really think itwas very inconsiderate of him,especiallywhenyoupreparedhimaspecialhighmass.”“Ohwell,”saidMrs.J.,“wecan’texpecthimtobehaveotherwise.Theotherday,whenhewashere,Ihadthemostterribletwohoursofmylife. I had to think ahead of his thoughts all the time. Itwas very stiff going, particularly at thecorners.”

Meanwhile,JimmywashavingaconversationwithMissW.Hesaidhethoughttherewasgoingtobeawar.“No,”shesaid,“notunlesstheetherisreactionary.”JimmytookhertobereferringtotheBritishBroadcastingCorporation,soheassuredherthatourfriendMr.AckerleyofTheListener

isquiteadvancedpolitically,thoughnotasmaterialisticasonecouldwish.

Some weeks later, Miss W. did a spirit portrait of Stephen. (Christopherthought it looked much more like his own brother Richard, whom Stephenanyhowslightlyresembled.)ShealsogaveStephenareadingofthetarotcards.Thiswassodiscouragingthatshebecameincreasinglyapologetic.TheKingofCupswas crossed by theFallingTower, and then theDevil himself appeared,and then a heart pierced by three swords…When she had finished, Stephen,wantingtoreassureherthathewasagoodsportandnotdiscouraged,askedinatone of mock-innocence: “Could we have a second game?” Miss W. wincedslightlyatthewordbutdidn’tseemoffended.Latersheassuredhimthathewasdestinedtobeoneoftheleadersofthenewage,oneofthetrulygreat,andthatshe was proud to be the first person to tell him this. She was obviously lessimpressedbyChristopher.ButhegotgoodmarksforknowingGeraldHeard.Tohissurprise,shespokeofHeardwithawe,asamasteroftheoccult.

*

OnJanuary18,ChristopherwrotetoKathleen,thankingherforsendinghimtheprogramofTheDogbeneaththeSkin.ShehadseenthefirstperformanceofitbytheGroupTheatreCompanyattheWestminsterTheatreonJanuary12.(Theregular run of the play began on January 30.) Auden had worked with itsdirector,RupertDoone,tocutandrevisethescript,duringrehearsals.Theyhadaltered the ending—rightly, I now think—and taken out the DestructiveDesmond episode—wrongly, I still think. At that time, Christopher grumbledoverallthealterations,merelybecausehehadn’tbeenconsultedinadvance.Buthemusthaveunderstood,eventhen,thatthiswouldhavebeenimpossible.Therewas no time for an exchange of letters and the Group Theatre couldn’t haveaffordedlong-distancetelephonecallstoPortugal.

In the same letter, Christopher told Kathleen he had just heard from BobBuckingham that Forster had had a bladder operation and that hewould soonhave to have another, much more serious. Before leaving for Portugal,Christopher had visited England from November 30 to December 5 and had

spentadaywithForster.HenowrealizedthatForstermusthavealreadyknownthenthatthisordealwasaheadofhimandthattherisk,inhisowncase,was(asthe surgeon put it) above normal. Yet he had said nothing about this toChristopher, hadn’t even hinted at it, and had indeed appeared to be his usuallighthearted, amusing self. Later, after Christopher had written to him, hereplied:

Yes, I never told you Iwasn’twellwhenweparted.There seemed somuch to say and Iwas sohappyseeingyou.

Christopherwastremendouslymoved.This,tohim,wastheauthentictoneoftheanti-heroichero.

*

DuringJanuary,theyhadtwovisitors,HumphreySpenderandGeraldHamilton.Humphreywaswiththem,onandoff,forseveralweeks,makingatriptoSpainandthenreturning.Hewasworriedaboutlosinghishairandfinallyconsentedtoundergo Heinz’s treatment; Heinz shaved him completely bald. Thereafter,Humphreyworeaberetwhenstrangerswerepresent,evenindoors.

Gerald stayed for a few days only, at a hotel in Sintra. (No doubt he hadsinister businesswith some Portuguese government official.)Gerald’s code ofcleanliness demanded the use of a bidet whenever he had been on the toilet.Therewasnobidet inhishotel room,soheunwiselyhoistedhimselfonto thewashbasin. Itwasunequal tohisweight.Theentirefixturewas tornoutof thewall and the bowl shattered, wounding him embarrassingly in the buttocks.GeraldleftforTangiertonursethemandalsohishurtdignity—fornobodycouldhelplaughingatthisunkindaccident.

OnFebruary4,Stephen,Humphrey, Jimmy,Heinz, andChristopherpaidalong-projectedvisittothecasinoatEstoril,whichChristophercalls“thatalmostlegendaryhauntofvice,”inthegroupdiary:

Ofcourseitallseemedveryharmless:twolargemodernroomscrowdedwithpinkEnglishtouristsindinner jacketsandwomen ineveningdress.Soonwewereplayingaccording toour respective

natures:Stephen,withbulgingblueeyesandangrylobstercheeks,playedatthehighesttablemadlybutcarefully,andwonnearlyfourhundredescudos.Humphreysneakedabout,withhisslydiffidentsmile,bettingatallthetablesandworkinguphisunobtrusivegentlemanlylittlepile,twoandahalfescudos at a time. Jimmy, slightlymore recklessbutverydomestic,was seatedwithhis countersarrangedbeforehimprimly,likeknitting.Heinz,studiousandbespectacled,playedawayinacorner,crossly,allbyhimself,bettingonlyonnumbersandincompleteignoranceoftherules—herefusedutterlytotellanybodywhetherhewaswinningorlosing—keepinghiscountersclenchedfiercelyinhis very hot hand. As for me, I prowled around the tables, imagining myself like Dostoevsky,Tolstoy,LordByron,oranyofthecharactersinthenovelsofBalzacorDisraeli,pausedtocountmymoney,triedtothinkofsystems,gotrattled,apologized,andhopedthatnobodyelsewaswinning,either.Bytheendoftheevening,wehadalllostexceptHumphrey,whoadmittedcoylytoseventyescudos.Weleftsoonaftermidnight.

Nextday, theywokeupburningwithgambling fever and certain that theywould win. Too impatient to wait for the evening, they arrived at the casinowhenitopenedat3:30.Theafternooncasino,withitsblindsdrawntoshutoutthesunlight,wasanaltogetherdifferentworldfromtheharmless-seemingtouristresortofthepreviousnight.

Onlyonetablewasbeingusedandthiswasalreadyfullup.NotasingleEnglishtourist—theirplacewastakenbyasinistercliqueofprofessionalgamblers—afathairyunshavedmanwearinggreasyclothespowderedroundthecollarwithscurf,apig-jowledbrutewithagoldbracelet,ahorribleoldwomanwith long lank gray hair,who kept dipping for counters in a shabbymidwife’s bag. Theroomwasquitesilent,exceptforthecroupier’svoice;theplaywasrapidandunderhanded.Severaltimes, our winnings were simply grabbed. And when Stephen protested—his face like a scarletindignantpoppy,accusinghistoryforallwarsandwrongs—hewassnarledatorbrutallysnubbed.Inthisatmosphere,werapidlylostourmoney.Athalfpastsix,threeverywoebegonewould-bebank-breakers crept into their taxi; the boys,more obstinate, stayed on to risk some last shillings andreturnedanhourlater,gigglingnervously,havinglostall.

ChristophertoKathleen,March1:

Ithinkthelifeweareleadingatpresentisfarmoresatisfactorythananythingwehavetriedbefore.Thegreatthingistobeinvolvedinone’ssurroundingsandweareinvolvedalready,evenifonlyasbogusEnglishcolonists.Thewordhasgoneroundthatwearesuchniceboys;andniceboysareararityinthiscolonyofladies.

However,Christopher,writingonedaylaterinhisownprivatediary,revealsthatStephenandJimmyhavealreadydecidedtoleaveSintrainthemiddleofthe

month,forSpain,Greece,andAustria:

It’s all very friendly and we are perfectly pleasant about it, but of course we all know that ourattemptatlivingheretogetherhasbeenacompleteflop.Theschemesoftakinganotherandlargerhousehavebeentacitlydropped.

There had been some domestic friction—chiefly on account of Teddy, thepuppy.TeddywasexclusivelyHeinz’sdog,buttheothersalsohadtolivewiththemesseshemade.AndHeinzhadhisownpeculiarwayofhandlingapet;ifTeddybithim,hewouldbiteTeddyback,quitehard,so thatheutterednerve-jarring squeals. Christopher chose to regard Heinz’s behavior as admirablynatural; hewas simply treatingTeddy as his equal.WhenStephen and JimmycalledHeinzcruel,Christophercalledthemsentimentalhypocrites.However,helaterhadtoadmitthat

Stephen and Jimmyhave honestly done their best to get alongwithHeinz,who certainly can bemaddeningwhenhesulks.Althoughsharingtheexpensesfortheanimals,theynowhardlydarelookatthem,forfearofprecipitatinganotherrow.

ItnowseemsastonishingtomethatChristophershouldeverhavesupposedStephen would stay at Sintra for long, Heinz or no Heinz. He wastemperamentally restless and needed frequent changes of scene—they wereprobably helpful to his work. Christopher, in Stephen’s place, might havewanderedabout,too.TieddownbyHeinz’spermitproblems,hewasinclinedtoenvyStephenandthereforeaccusehimofdesertion.

March4.Yesterday,StephenandJimmysneakedofftoEstoril.Theylost,betweenthem,nearlyfivepounds.

TodayGeraldHamiltonhaswritten,verypessimisticaboutthechancesforHeinz’sfuture.Ifeelawfullydepressed,but it’snousemoping—Imustfindsomeonein thiscountrywhocanhelpus.Dogskinwasadvertised lastSundayasbeing in its lastweeks.And theplagueamongst thehens,whichwethoughtwasover,hasbrokenoutagain.Anotherdiedtoday.Heinzisgoingoffgloomilyto gamble at Estoril. Still this cold miserable rainy and windy weather. Snow in the mountains.Floodseverywhere.

Aftersupper,fornoparticularreason,myspiritsrose.ReadaloudtoStephenandJimmyoutofLaurenceBinyon’sTheYoungKing,imitatingvariousstylesofhackShakespearianacting.Stephendid the footsteps off, clank of armour, etc.We all laughed a lot. Itwas an evening of the kind I

haven’tspentmorethanhalfadozentimessinceCambridge,whenEdwardUpwardandIdidthissortofthingnearlyeverynight.TheotherswenttobedbutIsatup,quitecheerful,readingAbingerHarvest and feeling,without the least cause, thatquiteprobablyeverythingwill turnout all rightsomehow,intheend.

ThenHeinzcamein.Hehadwonathousandescudos.Hewasveryuncertainwhethertotelltheothersornot.Ifhedoes,hesays,hemustinvitethemtoacelebrationlunch,andhedoesn’twanttobecausehehasneverreallyforgiventhemfortheTeddyrow.Isaidhemustdoashelikes.

March5.Heinzdidtellthem,atbreakfast.Withhisendlesslongingtobeapprovedofandliked,hehad planned his announcement and invitation as an important peace-gesture. But what actuallyhappenedwasthatStephenasked“Howmuchdidyouwinlastnight?”“Athousand.”“Did you?”Stephen’s tonewas cold and disapproving.Hewas instantly afraid that this successwouldmakeJimmyanxioustovisitEstorilagain.“Perhaps,”saidHeinz,“onedaysoon,I’llinviteyou.”Stephennot unnaturally took this tomean thatHeinzwould invite him and Jimmy to go gambling at theCasino.“Well,we’renotgoingto,”heansweredatonce,rathercrossly—beforeJimmyshouldhaveachancetosayanything.

Heinz,somewhatdashed,explainedwhathereallymeant;but themischiefwasdone.Stephencouldn’twarmupagainsoquickly.“Oh—”wasallhesaid.“That’llbeverynice.”Perhapshedidn’ttaketheinvitationveryseriously—atanyrate,histoneimpliedthathedidn’t.HeandJimmybegantalkingofsomethingelse.AndHeinzretired,chilledandhurt,tofeedthehens.

March8.Yesterday,HitlerdenouncedtheTreatyofLocarnoandsenttroopsintotheRhineZone.WewenttotheCasinoandgambledforacoupleofhours.Heinzstayedonthere,“waitingfora

numbertocomeup.”Intheevening,ourlandladyinvitedusintohearthenews.Thisiswhatthelastthreeyearshave

been,I thought—goingintostrangehouses tohear thewirelessannounceadisaster.Hitler’sshrillmadvoicewasrelayedfromagramophonerecord.Onehadthefeelingthathewasdancingupanddownonthetipsofhistoes.

Heinzcameinathalfpastthree,havinglosteverything.Today it is pouringwith rain. I haven’t been out.A letter fromBobBuckingham to say that

Morganhashadtheoperationandisveryweak.WorkedontheAbingerHarvestreview.

OnMarch10,ChristopherwrotetoKathleenenclosingapolitelymenacingnotefromLeonardWoolf:

Iheara rumour thatMethuensarepublishingabookbyyou. Ipresume that thismustbeamererumourinviewofthefactthatyouhaveagreedtogiveusthefirstofferofyournextnovel,andthatyoutoldmethatyouwouldprobablybesendingittoustoconsiderintheautumn?

Christopheradded:

Clearly,it’snousegoingonhedgingwithhim;wouldyoupleaseringupCurtisBrownandtellthem

Idefinitelywishthemnowtoexplainthewholesituationtohim?IamalsowritingtoWoolfmyself.

“The whole situation” was that Christopher was suffering from pique.AlthoughMr.Norrishadbeenwellreviewedandhadsoldwell,VirginiaWoolfhadn’tinvitedhimtomeether.Therefore,whenotherpublishersapproachedhimwithoffers,hehadenteredintoaninformalagreementwithMethuen,thehighestbidder.ItwasunderstoodthattheyweretobecomehispublishersassoonashecouldgetfreefromtheHogarthPress.

Nodoubt,VirginiaWoolf’speculiarmentalconditionmadehershrinkfromconfronting Christopher, whom she may well have pictured to herself as amember of an aggressive, uncouth, hostile younger generation. Withoutquestion, Christopher behaved unprofessionally, childishly. Nevertheless, Isympathizewithhishurtfeelings.

As things turned out, the Hogarth Press published three more ofChristopher’s books.Meanwhile, hemet Virginia several times andwas evenmore fascinated by her than he had expected to be. Itwasn’t until 1945, fouryears after her death, that he published his first book with Methuen, PraterViolet.

March15.Litvinovhassaidthatwarisinevitable.GeraldwritesalarminglyfromBrussels:Germansarebeingsentoutofthecountryeveryday.Heinzisinnocentlybusywiththerabbits.Wherewillhebeinamonthfromnow?

StephenandJimmyleftyesterdaymorningforSpain,wherechurchesarebeingburntandright-wingnewspaperofficessacked.Intheafternoon,Iwentdowntotherailwaystationtotrytogetaneveningpaper.AsIpassedtheprison,agreatdealofshoutingandlaughterwasgoingoninside—itsoundedmorelikeaschoolduringthelunch-interval.Adarkjolly-lookingunshavenmanlookedoutofoneofthesmallbarredwindowsandaskedme,inverygoodFrench,foracigarette.ItoldhimIhadn’tgotone—Iwassorry.“Justgoingforawalk?”heasked.“That’sright,”Isaid.“Well,enjoyyourself.”“Thankyou.”Wewavedtoeachotherpolitely.Noguardsweretobeseen.

OnMarch16,AudenarrivedtobeginworkingwithChristopherontheirnextplay,The Ascent of F6. Since the near-success or, at any rate, non-failure of“Dogskin,” Rupert Doone and his friend, the artist Robert Medley (who haddesignedthemasksforTheDog),hadbeenurging themtoproducesomethingelsewhichcouldbestagedbytheGroupTheatre.ButWystanandChristopher

would have continued playwriting together in any case; it had now become afunctionoftheirfriendship.

ConsideringthatF6waswritten,revised,andtypedoutwithinonemonth,Iassume that the twoof themmusthavepre-planned it tosomeextentduringaprevious meeting which I can’t recall. But Wystan was anyhow anextraordinarilyfastworker.Christopher,whowasmerelywritingprosedialogue,haddifficultyinkeepingupwiththepaceofhisverseproduction.Wystan’sfirstdraftswereusuallyclosetothefinalversion.Christopher’swerecrudebeyondbelief. (I remember how astonishedWystan was when he found one of themlyingaroundand,toChristopher’sdismay,readit.)ForChristopherwasafflicted—asInowamtoafargreaterdegree—byaspeciesoflazinesswhichmadehimhavetoforcehimselftowritedownsomething,anything,inorderto“breaktheground.” The resulting nonsense would then shame him into asking himselfseriouslywhatitwasthathewantedtosay.

Somememoriesofthevisit:Wystanwritingindoorswiththecurtainsdrawn;Christopher writing out in the garden, with his shirt off in the sunshine …Wystan insisting on scrambling up a steep part of the Sintra hills, saying thattheymustget themselves into themoodof themountaineers in theirplay; thiswas accompanied by laughter, lost footings, slitherings, and screams …ChristopherandHeinztakingWystantoseethehorribleoldafternoongamblersat Estoril, thus inspiring him to write “Casino” (“Only their hands are living—”)…WystanandChristophersittingsidebysideonasofa,posingforHeinz’scamera, asWystan murmured a quotation from Yeats: “Both beautiful, one agazelle.”

It was then that Ernst Toller, the dramatist, poet, and revolutionary, camewithhiswifetostayatSintraforafewdays.

Toller I liked extremely; he remindsme verymuch of Viertel.Whenwe talked about Hitler, hesimplycouldn’tbringhimself toutter thewordsMeinKampf. First he said, “MeinKrampf,” andthen,“Hisbook.”

ThusTollermetWystan,who,onlythreeyearslater,wouldwritehisepitaph.

April17.Wystanleftbytraintoday,takingwithhimthemanuscriptofournewplay.Ihavereallyenjoyedhisvisitverymuch,andthismonth,becausehehasbeenhereandwehaveworkedmoreorlesscontinuously,hasseemedmuchbrighterthanthelast.

Wystanhasn’tchangedintheleast.Hisclothesarestilloutattheelbows,hisstubbynail-bittenfingersstilldirtyandstickywithnicotine;hestilldrinksadozencupsofteaaday,hastohaveahotbatheverynight,pileshisbedwithblankets,overcoats,carpets,andrugs;hestilleatsravenously—though not asmuch as he once did—and nearly sheds tears if the food isn’t to his taste; he stillsmokeslikeafactorychimneyandpocketsallthematchesinthehouse.ButalthoughIfoundmyselfglancingnervouslywheneverhepickedupabook,fiddledwiththeelectriclightcord,orshovelledfoodintohismouthwhilereadingatmeals;althoughIwasoftenverymuchannoyedbyhisfussingandbythemesshemade—stillIneverforonemomentwasmorethanannoyed.Ineverfeltopposedtohiminmydeepestbeing—asIsometimesfeelopposedtoalmosteveryoneIknow.Weare,afterall,ofthesamesort.

Thisexplainswhythecollaborationwassuchasuccess.Ican’t imaginebeingabletoworksoeasilywith any ofmy other friends. Fundamentally,Wystan and I are exceedingly polite to eachother.

Ourrespectiveworkonthisplaywasfairlysharplydefined.Wystandidactone,sceneone;thedialoguebetweenRansomandhismotherinactone,scenethree;thedialoguebetweenRansomandtheAbbotinacttwo,sceneone;Ransom’smonologueinacttwo,scenetwo;thewholeofacttwo,scene four; all songs and choruses, the speeches by theA.’s, and all other speeches between thescenes. We interfered very little with each other’s work. The only scene on which we reallycollaborated was the last. It was understood, throughout, that Wystan’s specialty was to be the“woozy”andminethe“straight”bits.

“Woozy,”intheirprivatejargon,meantgrandiloquent,lackinginsubstance,obscureforobscurity’ssake.Itdescribedthestyleofthekindofverseplaystheydespised.When Christopher uses the word here, however, he isn’t suggestinganycriticismofWystan.Certainly,Wystanlovedgrandiloquence,butheusedittosaysomethingsubstantial.Anardentsolverofpuzzles,hefounditamusingtobeobscure;butheinsistedthathealwaysprovidedcluestohismeaningwhichthereadercouldfindifhelookedcarefullyenough.

Actually,nopartofTheDogorF6canproperlybedescribedas“straight,”i.e., realistic. The prose scenes which Christopher wrote are full of surrealparody,satire,andpastiche;thecharactersarelikefiguresincartoons.Eventhesubtitling of F6 as “a tragedy” implies that its authors are mocking theestablishedtheatricalvalues.

Much of what Christopher called Wystan’s wooziness was essentiallyreligious in content. Wystan’s mother was a deeply devout Christian—unlike

Christopher’sKathleen,whoseChristianitywaschiefly inspiredbyherurge toconformsocially—andWystanwas stillunderhismother’s influence.Henowoutwardly supported Marxism, or at any rate didn’t protest when it waspreached,but thiswashalfheartedand largely tohumorChristopherandafewother friends.ChristopherwasofcourseawareofWystan’sChristian leanings.Hemadefunofthem,inordernottohavetotakethemseriously,whichmighthaveledtoaquarrel.“Whenwecollaborate,”hewrote,“Ihavetokeepasharpeyeonhim—ordownflopthecharactersontheirknees;anotherconstantdangeristhatofchoralinterruptionsbyangel-voices.”

*

ChristophertoForster,May12andMay23:

IlovePortugal.Thepeoplearecharming.Theyleanoverthewallwhenwearehavingmealsinthegardenandwishusagoodappetite.Buthowtheydosing!Thetwomaidssinginharmony,veryoldfolk-songswithhundredsofverses,untilIhavetoaskthemtostopasIcan’thearmyselfwrite.Andthefarmer,ploughingwithoxenjustbeyondthegardenwall,singsasongtotheoxenwhichlastsallday.

TheAscentofF6isaboutanexpeditionupamountainandattemptstoexplainwhypeopleclimbthem…WhichbringsmetoT.E.Lawrence.Iamawfullygladyouareeditinghislettersandhopeyou’llwritealongintroduction.Pleasedon’texpectourF6tocastadazzlinglightonthesubject.Ionly say the play’s about him for shorthand-descriptive purposes. The whole conflict is entirelydifferentandmuchclumsier,asitseemstohavetobeonthestage.It’sonlyaboutLawrenceinsofarastheproblemofpersonalambitionversusthecontemplativelifeisconcerned.

Heinzisverywell.Havingfinishedthebighousefortheducksandchickens,heisnowbuildingaskyscraperforrabbits.Itisveryhighindeedandwefearitmayfalloverinagale.Meanwhile,Istudy thePortuguese irregularverbsandoccasionallygoover and takeapeep into thewardrobe,groan,andhastilyshutthedooragain.ThereasonIgroanisbecausetherearethirteenbooksintherewaitingtobereviewedforTheListener.(Youneedn’ttellJoethis.)

Wehaveanewfriend,averyniceLisbonadvocatenamedDr.Olavo.WevisithimonSundays.Scramblingintohischair,herestshischinsonhischest,hischestonhisstomach,andhisstomachonhis thighs; thenhedangleshis little legshighabove theground,orderswhiskeyandsoda,andregardsmewith anticipation, waiting forme to compose a sentence in French about Liberty, ofwhichwebothapprove.Thesentenceisneverforthcoming,butitdoesn’tmattermuch.Thewhiskeyisfollowedbytea,whichisfollowedbyMadeiracognacandlightport.AFrenchpoetarrivesandtalksaboutVerlaine.Theladiescomein.ThensuddenlyHeinz,whomeverybodyhasforgotten,saysverycarefullyandslowly:Voulez-vousunecigarette,Monsieur?Andwealllaughandapplaudforseveralminutes.

Christopher urged Forster to come out to Sintra and convalesce there, butForsterdidn’tfeelstrongenoughtomakethejourney.ThenUncleHenrywrotesuggesting that Christopher should take him on a tour of Portugal in August.Christopher begged Kathleen to dissuade Henry from this plan, and sheevidentlydid.IthadnowbeenarrangedthatKathleenherselfwouldvisitthemattheendofJune.

May29.Today,on thewaydownstairs to lunch,comes thedazzling, irrevocabledecision—not towritePaulIsAloneatall.Itisquiteclear;allI’dplannedwasadaydream.Iknewnothingaboutanyofthecharacters.

NowI’mgoingtogetonwithmybookofautobiographicalfragments—entitledperhapsScenesfromanEducation.

Contents,provisionally,asfollows:ThreeYearsattheBay.IntheDayNursery.Medical.BerlinDiary,autumn1930.SallyBowles.PensionSeeadler.TheNowaks.BerlinDiary,winter1932–33.OntheIsland.O.K.forSound.

Christopher was thus proposing to take nearly all of his Berlin material(“PensionSeeadler”becameOnRuegenIsland)andaddtoit“O.K.forSound”(Prater Violet), “On the Island” (Ambrose), and three fragments whichwouldultimatelyappear inLionsandShadows.Heprobablydidn’t realize howhugethisbookwouldhavebeen.

ThefinaldraftofSallyBowleswasfinishedonJune21.Christopheratfirstreferredtoitslightinglyinhisletterstofriends,sayingthathedoubtedifastoryas “trivial” as Sally’s belonged among his otherBerlin pieces,whichwere allfundamentallyserious.Sallymightwellhaveretorted thatatworstshewasnomoretrivial thanOttoNowak.(TheNowakshadnowappeared inNewWritingandhadbeenpraisedbysomeseriousleft-wingcritics.)ButChristopherwouldhave replied thatOttowas a victimof the politico-economic conditions underwhichhewaslivingandthatvictimscanneverberegardedastrivial,especiallywhentheyareproletarian;whereasSallywasn’tavictim,wasn’tproletarian,wasamereself-indulgentupper-middle-classforeigntouristwhocouldescapefromBerlinwhenever she chose. Christopher’s scruples now seem absurd tome; atouch of triviality was exactly what the book needed. But in those days hisattitude to his own writings was complicated by the left-wing standards he

imposedonthem.Sally Bowles faced another obstacle to its publication. When Christopher

askedJean’spermission,shehesitated;shewasafraidthattheabortionepisode—whichwasn’tfictitious—wouldshockherfamily,withwhomshewasnowongood terms. Christopher had to consider if it could be cut out of the story. Itcouldn’t,hedecided, for theabortion is themomentof truthwhich testsSallyandprovesthatnomisfortune,howeverdrastic,canshockheroutofherfantasyworld…However,Jeanendedbygivingherpermission,unconditionally.SinceSallyBowleswastoolongforNewWriting,JohnLehmanngottheHogarthPressto publish it, as a small separate volume, in 1937. Its instant popularitymadeChristopherrealizethatitwouldalsohavetobepartofGoodbyetoBerlin.

June26.Yesterday,atlast,ithappened.ComingbackfromalunchpartyinEstoril,wefoundtheenvelopefromtheGermanConsulate

onthehalltable.Heinzistoreportsometimeinthenearfuturetogethisordersformilitaryservice.Atpresent,myonlyreactionisafiercewarmsickfeeling.Mythoughtsscamperroundinsidemy

headlikescaredhens.What on earth shall we do? To go to the Consulate means, most likely, getting the passport

confiscated.Toboltseemsequallyfutile.CanGeraldhelpus?Idoubtit.

June29.WewenttoseeDr.B.S.,thefamousLisbonlawyer.Alargeround-facedman,withroundglasses and round, cold, not unkindly eyes.No, he said, hewas sorry—itwas all quite hopeless:Heinzcouldn’tpossiblybenaturalizedwithoutdoinghismilitary service first. “Thebestadvice IcangivehimistoreturntoGermany.”

Icameoutintothestreetfeelingstunned.Itwasabsurd,ofcourse,tobesoupset.WhatelsehadI expected? But, of course, secretly, I’d been hoping. Back to lunch at the T.’s. Mrs. T. wasextremelykind;Mr.T.abituncomfortable—whyshouldn’tHeinzgoback?Everythingseemedtobeslipping away down into a bottomless black drain. It is an awful moment when the absoluteconfidenceofchildhood—“Nanny’dnever let thathappen tome”—isshaken. Iwasprobably inahigh fever.Soabsolutelydoomeddid I feel,wanderingupanddown thehot sunlit streets, that itevenseemedstrangethatwewerestillallowedatliberty.Goingintothepost-office,ItriedtosendatelegramtoGerald,butnowordswouldcome.Weorderedgingerbeerbutcouldn’tdrinkit.Laterwedidtelegraph.

Thatevening,weinterviewedOlavo,whowasveryelasticandbright.Hewavedthedifficultyaside.Hewouldmake all enquiries, be responsible for everything.Wewere not toworry.Heinzcouldn’tbeextradited.He,Olavo,wouldpreventit.Wereturnedhomesoothed.

Thenextday,Kathleen’sshipdockedatLisbon.Thisisfromherdiary:

Christophercameonboardandallwaswellashemanagedallthegettingthroughthecustomsandthetippingandhadataxiwaiting.Itwasallwindingroadswithtreesthroughgreatwidestretchesofcountryand thecastleat the topofSintradominating theview…And then theVillaAlecrimdoNorte. It seemedall rather Italian.And the twoPortuguesemaidsdid too…Steps fromthe frontdoordescendtothecheerfullittlecolour-washedsitting-room.Awayandawaymilesandmilesofwild open undulating country, away to blue hills, changing lights, a train winding across thecountry…otherwise,thebeesbuzzingovertheflowersandperfectstillness(butforthemaids,whochatteranddonotworkmuch).

PoorChristopher.Oneoftheusualupheavalshasjustarisenagain,reHeinzandthepossibilityofconscription…C,aftersupper, to telephonetoHamiltoninBrussels,whoit issupposedcouldassistoverchangingHeinz’snationality…Myroomallwhiteandgreen,andthatmarvellousopenview,likeoneusedtogetatWyberslegh.Itisallmostattractive.

The diary continues with descriptions of sightseeing tours taken withChristopher and of meetings between Kathleen and members of the BritishcolonyinLisbon.Kathleenwaswelcomedwarmlybythem,asanelderlyladyofdistinction. Her presence at Alecrim do Norte made the Christopher–Heinzrelationship suddenly respectable, as Christopher had foreseen that it would.Thereare,however,veryfewreferencestoHeinzinKathleen’sdiary.Hereistheonlyextensiveone:

July4.A lovelyday again, enjoyed sitting in thepretty little sitting-room,openingon to thegaylittle garden and the wide ever-changing view. Heinz in and out with the chickens. Anna inattendancewithfood,andChristophertoo.Itisreallythemostdomesticlifetheyhavehadandnowitisallthreatened…FairlyencouragingbutnecessarilyexpensivenewsfromGeraldHamilton…Heinzjoinedusfortea.Hedoesnotspeakunlessspokento.Insomewaydifficulttoexplainhoworwhy,hetonesinwithChristopher’slifewonderfullywell.TheydivideeverythingandeveryeveningHeinzmakesup“ouraccounts”andasksCjustwhathehasspentduringtheday;andtheirpersonaland household expenditure is all entered. If only there wasn’t this constant worry, on Heinz’saccount,overtheirplans.

Meanwhile,inhisdiary,ChristopherwaswritingaboutKathleen:

Itisamazing—thebarrier,evennow,betweenus.Mostlyofshyness.But,ingettingolder,sheseemstohavegotheavierandharder.I’dimaginedmyselffallingonherneck,appealingtohertoforgetand forgive the past, to regard Heinz as her son—but all that, in her presence, seems merelyridiculous.She is infinitelymorebroadminded,more reasonable, than shewas in theolddays—Iliketalkingtoher,infactItalktoherbetterandmoreamusinglythantoanyoneelse;buttheiceisneverreallybroken.ToHeinzsheispleasant,gracious,chatty.Shetreatshim—inaperfectlynice

way—likeoneoftheservants.

*

Kathleen leftPortugal on July10, forEngland.That sameday,Heinzwent tostay briefly with an English couple who were relatives of the landlady. Thismove had been arranged byChristopher in amood of panic.By now, he hadalmostpersuadedhimselfthattheNazisattheconsulatewouldtakethetroubleto kidnapHeinz and put him on board aGerman ship. He hadwritten in hisdiary:“Everytimethedoorbellrings,wejumpoutofourskins.”Meanwhile,asthe neglected chickens ran about the garden in confusion, telegrams andtelephone calls darted back and forth between Christopher and Gerald,producing nothing but promises that Heinz would somehow get his problemssolvedbeforetoolong.

However, a few days later, sanity reappeared in the person of WilliamRobson-Scott.HewastouringPortugalandpaidavisittoChristopher,whomhehad known since the Berlin days. There was something toughly resilient inWilliam’smakeup.Hecouldbendbeforestormswithoutbreaking.Hishairwasshort and vigorous, like grass clinging to the edge of a cliff.He laughedwithnervous violence, turning red in the face and pressing his hands between hisknees. Temperamentally mild and polite, he stated his opinions almostapologetically, but with fearless frankness. When the occasion demanded, hewouldbecome imperious inanold-fashionedBritishway,brushingdifficultiesasidelikeinsects.(ChristopherborrowedsomeofWilliam’smannerismsforthecharactercalledPeterWilkinson,OttoNowak’slover,inGoodbyetoBerlin. Inreallife,WilliamandOttoneverevenmet.)

WhentheNaziscameintopower,WilliamwasteachingattheUniversityofBerlin. The daily confrontation between him and his studentsmust have beenironicallycomic.HerewasaroomfulofyoungGermansbeinglecturedtobyaseemingly typical representative of the ruling class of England—Germany’snaturalally,according toMeinKampf. Itwas tobepresumed thathe regardedhimselfasbelongingtoamasterraceborntorulethe“lesserbreedswithouttheLaw.” Hitler admired this attitude and taught his followers to imitate it.

However,William’s students soonbecame aware that their professor, far frombeing an ally, regardedNaziGermans as the very lowest of the lesser breeds.Williammade this clear to them, inhisnonchalant style, over andover again.Some of the students were outraged and walked out of the classroom.Complaintsweremadetotheuniversityauthorities.Thesereachedtheearsofanolder Englishman, a colleague of William’s in the English department. ThisEnglishmanwasajoker.WhentoldthatWilliamoughttobedismissed,hesaid:“Iwouldn’tdo that, if Iwereyou.Mightcreate international tension.Yousee,thefactis,thefellow’sacousinoftheKingofEngland.”Incrediblyenough,theGermans believed this. William suddenly found himself being treated withmysterious respect. Later, he discovered the joke. So did the Germans. Theywerenotamused.Williamhadtoresign.

WilliamcouldofferChristophernopractical advice, buthismerepresencewas immensely reassuring. Christopher simply couldn’t picture kidnappersarrivingtocarryoffHeinz,nowthatWilliamwasonthepremises.And,iftheydidcome,Williamwouldrefusetoacknowledgetheirexistence.“Nonsense!”hewouldsnort,andtheywoulddisappearlikeadiseasewhichhasbeenun-thoughtbyaChristianSciencepractitioner.

ThroughWilliam,ChristophermethisfriendsJamesSternthewriterandhiswife,Tania.TheSternswantedtorentahouseandspendseveralmonthsintheneighborhood.Christopherwas immediatelydrawn tobothof themand itwasagreedthattheyshouldshareAlecrimdoNortewithhimandHeinz.

ChristopherfoundJimmySternsympatheticbecausehewasahypochondriaclike himself (though with far more reason); because he grumbled and washumorousandskinnyand Irish;becausehisbrainyworried facewasstrangelyappealing; because he had been a steeplechase rider in Ireland, a bartender inGermany, and a cattle farmer on the South African veldt; because he wasterrifiedofsnakesandhadbeenbittenbyone(he implied that ithadfollowedhimaroundpatientlyuntilhisattentionwasdistractedbywatchingararebird);because he had written a book of extraordinary short stories, called TheHeartlessLand.

AsforTania,shewasoneofthemostunaffected,straightforward,sensible,

andwarmheartedwomenChristopherhadeverencountered.Shewasalsooneofthemostbeautiful:small,dark-haired,dark-eyed,andwithabodyasbeautifulasher face. She was a physical-culture expert and taught a system of exercisesinventedbyherself.Whenshelookedatyou,sheseemedawareofallthefaultsofposturewhichbetrayedyourinnertensions;butyouneverfeltthatshefoundthemrepulsiveorevenabsurd.Shewasreadytohelpyoucorrect them,ifyouwantedherto.

TaniawasaGermanwhohadlivedforsometimeinParisbeforeshemarriedJimmy. She had two brothers who were Communists and who had barelymanaged to escape fromNaziGermany. She herself had no fear of theNaziswhen they were no longer on their home ground. She suggested going withHeinztotheirconsulateanddemandingtoknowexactlywhatwouldhappentohimifherefused toobeytheirconscriptionorder.Shewassure that therewasnothing they could do, except threaten. “But what if they take his passportaway?”Christopher asked. “Wewon’t bring itwith us,” said Tania, laughing.Her plan seemed outrageously daring and yet practical.Christopherwas threequartersconvincedbyherassurance.Besides,hisanxietyachedforthereliefofa showdown—to know something, anything, definite after all these months.Heinz,whoadoredTania,wouldhavegonewithherfearlessly.However,Jimmy,quiterightlyIthink,refusedtoallowhertogetherselfinvolved.

Christopheraskedhimself:Whyshouldn’tIgowithHeinztotheconsulate?He had to answer: I am afraid. Not of those officials, but of how he wouldbehave. Hewas afraid of being questioned about his relationswith Heinz, oflosinghisnerve,ofbeingreducedtoimpotentrage,ofbeingunabletoplaythescenethroughtoafinish.ThatwaswhyhehadletFrl.PohlygowithHeinztothe consulate at Las Palmas for him. He couldn’t forget that confrontation atHarwich.

Sometimes, Jimmywould shut himself up in his room for awhole day ormore, seeing nobody but Tania. But his sensitive nerves and spells ofmelancholycreatednotensioninthehousehold.Christopherwroteinhisdiary:“Jimmy’s jumpiness is quitewithout venom towards the outsideworld. He ismuchtoobusyhatinghisfathertohaveanymaliceleftoverforus.”AndTania

tookeverythinginherstride.ShedevotedherselftoJimmyyetfoundsufficienttime to bewith Christopher andHeinz and also very efficientlymanaged thehousekeeping. This seemed—in the short run at least—a perfectly workablearrangement and I believe that—had the run been long—they might all havelivedtogetherinharmonyformonthsorevenyears.

*

OnJuly18,FrancostartedtherevoltinMoroccowhichspreadatoncetoSpainitselfandbecametheCivilWar.

July28.HereIam,onthegraniteverandahofDr.Olavo’shouseintheBeiraAlta,lookingoutoverthe vines and olive woods of the Mondego Valley. Behind those mountains, across the Spanishfrontier,theyarefighting.

We have sat up each night until past two o’clock listening to thewireless—and although thenewswasbetteryesterday,itdoesn’tseematallcertainyetthattheFascistswillbebeaten.

NotthatDr.Olavodoubtsthisforaninstant.Hestabsanaccusingfinger,swallowshisMadeira,springstohisfeet:“Nevershalltheywin!Never!Iunderstandthementalityofthesegenerals.Ah,these butchers, these monsters, these analphabetics—they would dare to assault the noble great-heartedgenerousSpiritofDemocracy—verywell,Idefythem!”

Certainly he defies them. He is astonishingly incautious. From this house you can see thepropertyofhisbrother,theformerministerofwar,whowasmurderedduringtheputschwhichputthepresentregimeintopower.AndyetOlavoisnotmerelyfree,hisopinionsaretolerated;heevenhasanimportantpostintheciviladministration.AsItoldhim,he’sluckynottobelivinginItalyorGermany.

ForstertoChristopher,July30:

IamrattledbythenewsfromSpainthiseveningandfeelIamsayingfarewell toyouandHeinz.Youknowthosefeelingsandcandiscountthem:thelastpartingisneverwhenorasonesupposes.IhadbeenplanningtocometoPortugalintheautumn.Nowallseemsimpossible.

Thisnightmarethateverythingalmostwentright!IknowthatyouhaveitovertheCommunistfailureinGermany.Asamatteroffact,one’sactivities(andinactivities)musthavebeendoomedformanyyears.I’dthrowinmyhandifallthesemetaphorsweren’tnonsense:there’snowheretothrowone’shandto.

Dearme,Amsterdamwasgood.Weoftentalkofit.Ican’tbelieveitwasonlylastyear—twobigwarssince,twooperationsonmyself,andsoon,placeitonanotherplanet.

ChristophertoStephen,August11:

AboutSpain,youcanimaginehowIfeel;iftheywinthistime,it’stheend.Theend,even,oftheBritishEmpire,you’dthink;andyetthemajorityoftheBritishcolonyherearescreamingagainsttheSpanishgovernmentandprayingfortherebels.

Theotherevening,wehadapicnicwithMr.andMrs.T.andMrs.Y.andareallyviolentandembarrassingargumentstarted,Mrs.T.pro-govtandMrs.Y.pro-reb.Mrs.Y.keptexclaiming,“ButItellyou,they’rejustalotofdirtyCommunistsandtheymurderwomenandburnchurches;andtheothersareoursort,Imean,Ican’targue,butonefeelsthey’recleanandthey’vekindofbeentoasortofdecentschool,ifyouknowwhatImean.”

I likebothof themverymuchaswomenand they’vebothbeendecent toHeinzsinceall thiswretchedbusinesswiththeConsulate,butallthesameIfindIavoidgoingtoseeMrs.Y.now.Thepapersherearehundredpercentpro-reb,sowegetnoreliablenews.Ifeelawfullydepressed.

THIRTEEN

Kathleen’s diary reference to “necessarily expensive news” from GeraldHamilton suggests that Christopher had prepared her, while she was still inPortugal,forafinancialshock.Christopherlaterjokedtohisfriendsthathehaddonethisbygradualstages,inthemannerofaVictorianannouncingsomeone’sdeathtoarelative:“There’sbeenanaccident.Yes,he’shurt.Ratherbadly,I’mafraid. No, he’s in no pain. Not now … You must try to be brave.” WhatKathleenhadtotrytobebraveaboutwasthatHeinz’schangeofnationalitywasgoingtocost,approximately,onethousandpounds.

ItispossiblethatChristopherhadbeentootactfulinbreakingthisnewsandthatKathleenhadreturnedtoEnglandsupposingthathehadexaggeratedorthatthe crisiswasn’t immediate.But nowcame theoutbreakofwar inSpain.Themails from Portugal were held up. Instead of vaguely worded letters fromChristopher, Kathleen got a peremptory cable in which he told her to writedirectly toHamilton’s lawyer inBrussels and arrange to send him themoney.ThelawyeransweredKathleeninatonewhichshedescribesas“prettycool,”bywhichshemeansinsolentlycasual.HewouldacceptHeinzasaclientonreceiptofthemoney.Butherefusedtoguaranteethatanynaturalizationpaperscouldbeobtainedwithitorthatsuchpapers,ifobtained,wouldprovetobevalid.

Kathleen turned for help to her cousin and adviser, Sir William GrahamGreene. “CousinGraham” held an important post at theAdmiralty.Hewas afriendofWinstonChurchillandanuncleofGrahamGreenethenovelist.

Throughthecleareyeglassesofthishonorableworldly-wiseman,Kathleenbegantoseethesituationinanevenmoresinisterlight:

Ifeelmoreandmorethatthereissomethingveryshadybehinditall.Thelawyermightevenintheenddouble-crossus.

Thisgangsterishexpressionsoundscomic,comingfromKathleen.Shemusthavefeltthatshealreadyhadonefootintheunderworld.

August 13. A cable came fromChristopher who, followingmy suggestion, is coming back. It isimpossibletogetanythingsettledatthisdistance,speciallywiththepoststakingsolong.

August18.Letter fromChristopher.Theyhave leftPortugalandarenow inBelgium,atOstende.I’msorry,asChristopherwillnowseeGeraldHamiltonbeforecominghome.Ialsohavesuspicionsaboutthelawyer.

August 21. Christopher arrived in time for lunch, having spent last night at Dover withWilliamPlomer;hehadalsoseenE.M.Forster,whoisdowntherewithhismother.Intheafternoon,CousinGrahamcametotalkovertheBelgium,Ecuador,BrazilpossibilitieswithChristopher.

I have forgotten the technicalities involved in becoming a citizen of thesecountries,butIamfairlysurethat,inHeinz’scase,certaindocumentscouldonlybe obtained by bribery. For example, you might have to have a certificatedeclaringthatyouhadbeenaresidentofthecountryforalargenumberofyears,or that you had served in its armed forces—when, in fact, you hadn’t. Suchcertificates could of course be proved false if a hostile official chose toinvestigateyourpast,atanytimeinthefuture.

Belgiumwas too near Nazi Germany. In the event of a German invasion,HeinzmightfindhimselfinworsedangerwithaBelgianpassportthanwithoutone. Under the new Nazi laws, the penalty for attempting to change yournationality was a long term of imprisonment; it could even be death. SoChristopher was now making up his mind to emigrate with Heinz to somecountry inLatinAmerica.From there, he said to himself, theywouldperhapslaterbeabletomakeasecondemigration—totheUnitedStates.

During these conferences with Kathleen and Cousin Graham, Christopherhad mixed feelings. He was suspicious of Gerald, on this as on so manyoccasions,andofthelawyeralsobecausehewasGerald’sally.Yet,afterall,itwas the lawyerwhowas taking the risks. How could he be expected to sendwritten guarantees which might one day be used as evidence against him?Christopherdidn’twantKathleentobeswindled;buthefeltoutofplacesidingwithheragainstGeraldandthelawyer.If theywerelawbreakers,well,sowashe.He liked and respectedCousinGraham.But,wheneverHeinz’s namewasmentioned, Christopher was all too aware of Graham’s self-restraint. He wasmaking an effort not to show his disapproval of this imprudent and costly

relationshipinwhichChristopherhadgothimselfinvolved.AsforKathleen,herexaggeratedconcernaboutthemoneyasmoneyirritatedChristopher.Whateverhappened,hefullyintendedtopayitbacktoher.So,ifhewaspreparedtorisklosing it fornothing,what righthadshe tomakesucha fuss?Deepdown,hisattitude toward her was sadistic. Let her suffer a bit of anxiety andembarrassment,asapunishmentforhercondescendingattitudetoHeinz.

ChristopherfinallyprevaileduponKathleentosendthemoneytoabankinBrussels,throughwhichitcouldbepaidtothelawyer.Havingdonethis,helefttorejoinHeinzatOstende.EarlyinSeptember,hewrotetotellKathleenthatthelawyer had now established connections with some officials at the MexicanlegationinBrussels.GettingMexicannationalityforHeinzthroughthemwouldbe“absolutelylegal, foolproof,andaboveboard”anditcouldbedoneinabouttwo and a half months. (Christopher was merely repeating the lawyer’sassurances.Heknewnothingatfirsthand.)

In the middle of September, Christopher and Heinz moved from OstendebacktoBrussels.Attheendofthemonth,ChristopherwentovertoEnglandforsixdays.Richardsuppliesaglimpseofhimatthestationashewasleavingagainfor Belgium, giving a performance as a left-wing prig—probably to entertainRichard:

YouaskedtheyoungmanatthebookstallifhehadacopyoftheDailyWorker.Hesaiddecidedly,No,hedidn’tstockit.Yousaid,Youshould,you’reaworker.Towhichherepliedvirtuously, It’speoplewhodon’tlikeworkwhoreadthatpaper.

Christopherhadnowreturnedtoworkonanearlierprojectofhis:thestoryofhislifefromtheendofhisschooldaystohisdepartureforBerlin.Atthattimehe planned to call itTheNorthwestPassage—a titlewhich is explained in itsfifthchapter:

Thetrulystrongman,calm,balanced,awareofhisstrength,sitsdrinkingquietlyinthebar;itisnotnecessaryforhimtotryandprovetohimselfthatheisnotafraid,byjoiningtheForeignLegion…leavinghiscomfortablehomeinasnowstormtoclimbtheimpossibleglacier…[He]travelsstraightacrossthebroadAmericaofnormallife.But“America”isjustwhatthetrulyweakman,theneurotichero, dreads. And so … he prefers to attempt the huge northern circuit, the laborious terrible

northwestpassage…

FromChristopher’s andWystan’s point of view, theTrulyWeakManwasrepresented by Lawrence of Arabia, and hence by their character MichaelRansominF6.

In 1937, the American author Kenneth Roberts published a best-sellingadventurenovel,NorthwestPassage.SoChristopherhad tocallhisbookbyadifferentname,anddecidedonLionsandShadows.

*

At the end of October, Christopher reports to Kathleen that an official of theMexican legation in Brussels has left for Mexico City, taking with him thenecessarydocumentsonHeinz’scaseandsevenhundredpounds,forwhichthelawyerhasareceipt.Heinzwillreceivehisnaturalizationpapersbeforetheendof November, at the Mexican consulate in Antwerp. “In the meantime,”Christopheradds,“wearetakingstepstogetanactualletterfromtheLegation,acknowledging the whole transaction officially and promising specific time-limits.”(Thisletterwasneverforthcoming.)

On November 8, Christopher writes that the lawyer has told him that theofficialhasarrivedinMexicoCityandisattendingtotheirbusiness;atelegramcan be expected in five or six days, confirming this. Then the naturalizationpapers will be sent by airmail. The lawyer now promises that the total cost,includinghisexpenses,willbeunderonethousand.Meanwhile,agentlemanhasbeenintroducedbythelawyertoChristopherasarepresentativeoftheMexicanlegation—theonlyonehehasmet(orwouldevermeet).Thisgentlemanhasadistinguished appearance and speaks fluent American English with a slightSpanishaccent.HeassuresChristopherthattheirbusinessisgoingwellandwillsoon be terminated satisfactorily. Christopher finds him charming. (Theirmeetingdidn’ttakeplaceatthelegation.)

*

Heinz must have spent a depressing autumn. In Brussels he had no daily

occupation.HemissedhisdogTeddyandhischickensandrabbits.Moreover,hehad had so much trouble with his nose and throat that the doctor hadrecommendedtwooperations:removalofhistonsilsandrepairofhissquashednose. Having had the first of these, he dreaded the second. It was postponedagainandagainandnotperformeduntilDecember7.Christopherwasshockedbythesightofhimafterit:“Justamouthwideopengroaning,surroundedwithbandages.” When the scars had healed, everybody agreed that Heinz lookedmuchhandsomer.HisperfectprofileevenremindedChristopherofthebeautifulPharaohAkhnaton’s.ButChristopherstillprivatelyregrettedtheoldone.

*

LateinNovember,StephenwrotetotellChristopherthathewasgoingtomarrya girl named Inez Pearn,whom he had only recentlymet, at anAid to Spainmeeting. Stephen attempted to win Christopher’s sympathy for what he haddone.HepointedoutthatheandJimmyYoungerwerealreadylivingapartandindependentofeachotheratthetimeofhisengagementbutadmittedthatJimmywas nevertheless verymuch upset. Referring to his feelings for Inez, Stephencontinued:

Iamsureyouwillunderstandthisnecessityforapermanentandestablishedrelationship,becauseIknowthatyouhavealwaysfeltitsostronglyyourself.

This was clever pleading but it didn’t placate the implacable Christopher.However,hegaveStephennohintofhisreactions—untilmuchlater—andonlyshowed themby an increasedwarmth toward Jimmy.Stephen and JimmyhadplannedtocometoBrusselsforChristmas.NowStephenwouldn’tbecoming.ChristopherwrotetoJimmy,urginghimtocomeanyway.ThispleasedStephen,who was worried that Jimmy might begin losing contact with their mutualfriends.

*

OnDecember10,whileHitler andMussoliniwere threateningEurope’speace

byinterveningopenlyintheSpanishwar,EdwardVIIIperformedtherelativelyminor drama of his abdication. Christopher listened to the abdication speechwithJohnLehmann,whowasbrieflyvisitingBrussels.JohnandhewereinabarandtheyinsistedonhavingtheradioonandtherecordplayeroffuntilEdwardhad finished, despite the protests of non-English-speaking customers. IrememberthestrangenessofhearingEdward’svoicefor thefirst time,withitsunkinglytwang.

Later,ChristopherwrotetoKathleen:

It is generally believed on the Continent that Edward was really kicked out because of Naziinfluenceinhisentourage;inthatcase,whycan’ttheslimyoldhypocritehavethecouragetosayso,insteadoftryingtomakeitamoralissue?

Aside from feeling mildly sentimental about Edward as a faded but oncegreat beauty, Christopher took little interest in him. Nevertheless, he hadnegativelysupportedEdward’scauseduringthecrisisbydetestinghisenemiesandquarrelingwithKathleenabouthimwhentheyhadlastmet.By“theslimyold hypocrite” Christopher meant Cosmo Gordon Lang, the Archbishop ofCanterbury,whohadopposedEdward’s intendedmarriagetoMrs.Simpsononthegrounds thatshewasadivorcedwoman.Christopherwasutterlyunable tobelieveinmoralattitudesotherthanhisown;herefusedtoadmitthattheOtherssincerely hated adultery, homosexuality, or any of the sins they denounced.Kathleen he regarded as a mere snob. If Mrs. Simpson had been royal likeMarina, he said, instead of being an American commoner, her previous lifewould never have been held against her. Kathleen, who enjoyed baitingChristopher,thoughshewasquiteunawarethatshedid,hadwrittentohimthatoneofherfriendshadbeenmuchmovedbytheArchbishop’sstatement.HenceChristopher’sout-burst.

*

Ataboutthistime,ChristopherheardarumorthatAudenwasplanningtogotoSpain. Then came a letter fromOliveMangeotwhichmight be interpreted ashintingatthesamenews.Rightlyorwrongly,Olivenowbelievedthatshewasa

targetofpoliceinformers,telephonetappers,steamers-openofletters,andotheragentsofFascism;she therefore tendedtousephrasessocryptic thatevenherfriendscouldn’tunderstandthem.Therumorwassoonconfirmed,however,byWystanhimself:

I’mgoingtoSpaininearlyJanuary,eitherambulance-drivingorfighting.Ihopetheformer.IsthereanychanceofseeingyouinParisonmywaythrough?Incaseofaccidents,rememberthatyouandEdwardareexecutors.

Meanwhile, Stephen wrote that Jimmy had enlisted in the InternationalBrigade.HewasstillcomingtoBrusselsforChristmasbuthewouldbeonhiswaytoSpain,andanotherenlistee,GilesRomilly,wouldbewithhim.Gileshadleft Oxford in the middle of term to join the Brigade, in which his brotherEsmondwasalreadyfighting.TheywerenephewsofWinstonChurchill.

ChristopherandHeinzdidtheirbesttogiveJimmyandGilesanappropriate,ungloomysend-off.Theyatesomememorablemeals,underGeraldHamilton’sguidance. The bestwas in a famous restaurant’s private dining roomwhere aBelgian royal personage had once entertained hismistresses.Gerald said that,after supper, thewaiter used to bring in the key of the room on a salver andpresent it to thepersonage.Theroomstillhadacouch in it.The fourof themalsofrequentedalargenoisyworking-classdancehallwherenobodymindedifmendancedtogether.

ToChristopher,during thisvisit,both JimmyandGilesappeared tragicallyvulnerable—Gilesbecausehelookedphysicallyfragile,boyishlypretty;Jimmybecause of the softness of his nature. The fact that Jimmy was an ex-soldierseemed irrelevant; thepeacetimeBritishArmycouldn’thavepreparedhim fortheBrigade incombat. Itwasnoticeable thatJimmyhadstoppedrepeatinghisrevolutionary slogans; his present predicamentwas toopersonal for dialectics.LikeGiles,hemadeabraveshowofhighspirits.

*

1937 opened with an announcement from Stephen that he, too, was going toSpain, with the writer Cuthbert Worsley. They were to find out what had

happened to thecrewofaRussianship, theKomsomol,which theItalianshadsunk in theMediterranean. Itwas suspected—correctly, aswas later proved—that the crewwas interned by the rebels. This was an assignment which anyproperlyaccreditedneutralcorrespondentmighthaveundertakenwithoutmuchrisk. But Stephen wasn’t neutral. He was a recently joined member of theCommunistPartyandalong-timepubliclydeclaredenemyofFascismwhereverit appeared. He was being sent on this investigation by the Daily Worker.Therefore, if he andCuthbert did penetrate behind the rebel lines, theywouldriskgetting arrested as spies and imprisonedor even shot.Luckily,when theytried to go fromGibraltar to Cádiz, they were turned back at the frontier byFranco’sguards.Stephen then leftSpainbutverysoon returned.This time,hesawJimmyYounger.JimmyhadbeenappalledbyhiswarexperiencesandwasdesperatetogetoutoftheBrigadeandleavethecountry.

OnJanuary11,atelegramarrivedfromWystaninLondon.HisdepartureforSpainhadbeendelayedbutnowhewasabouttostart.Nextday,ChristophermethiminParis,attheHôtelQuaiVoltaire.

TheBritishpresshadturnedWystanintobignews.Eventhoseeditorswhoobviouslyregardedhimwithcynicismorillwillhelpedtopublicizehisjourney—to his own embarrassment, for he was afraid of being prevented by theauthorities from entering Spain. To thousands of young people hewas now ahero—aByronoratleastaRupertBrooke,goingforthtowar.Byronhadwrittenthat “the land of honorable death” awaited him.Brooke had consoled himselfwith the thought that the foreign placewhere he fellwould become “for everEngland.”Wystan’s dedication to his chosen causewas certainly as sincere astheirshadbeen,buthisreactionswereabsurdlydifferent.Thepoemhehadjustfinished,latertobecalled“DanseMacabre,”wasadazzlingexplosionofironicfireworks and a send-up of the Warrior-Hero which seemed to poke fun atWystanhimself.

Christopher could never havedone alonewhatWystanwas doing.Hewastootimidtohavetakensuchastepindependently.WouldhehavegonetoSpainwithWystan,ifithadn’tbeenforHeinz?Ithinkhewould,despitehistimidity,becausehecouldhavefoundnoothergoodenoughexcuseforstayingbehind.

Asthingswere,hedidn’t feelguiltyabout this,onlyregretful forwhathewasmissing.

Christopher wasn’t seriously afraid thatWystan would be killed in battle.The government would probably insist on his making propaganda for them,ratherthanfighting.Still,ByronandBrookehaddiedbydisease,notweapons,andawarzoneisalwaysfullofpotentialaccidents.Thiswasasolemnparting,despite all their jokes. Itmade them aware how absolutely each relied on theother’scontinuingtoexist.

Their friendship was rooted in schoolboy memories and the mood of itssexualitywasadolescent.Theyhadbeengoingtobedtogether,unromanticallybutwithmuchpleasure,forthepasttenyears,wheneveranopportunityoffereditself, as it did now.They couldn’t think of themselves as lovers, yet sex hadgiven friendship an extra dimension. They were conscious of this and itembarrassed them slightly—that is to say, the sophisticated adult friendswereembarrassed by the schoolboy sex partners. Thismay be the reasonwhy theymadefun,inprivateandinprint,ofeachother’sphysicalappearance:Wystan’s“stumpy immature fingers” and “small pale yellow eyes screwed painfullytogether”; Christopher’s “squat” body and “enormous” nose and head. Theadultsweretryingtodismisstheschoolboys’sexmakingasunimportant.Itwasofprofoundimportance.Itmadetherelationshipuniqueforbothofthem.

OnJanuary13,ChristophersawWystanoffonthetrain.Wystanhadabadcoldbutwasotherwisecheerful.Hisonlyanxietywasabouthisluggage,whichhadbeensentahead,bymistake, to theFranco-Spanishfrontier.Hewasafraidthatitwaslostforever.Luckily,hewaswrong.

*

DuringJanuary,Christopherworkedon translating the lyricswhichareprintedbetweenthechaptersof theDreigroschenroman, thenovelwhichBrechtbasedonhisDreigroschenoper.Thistranslationofthenovel,byDesmondVesey,wascalledAPennyforthePoor.

I thinkChristopher’s translations are generally adequate.But hemade onemistake which is worth describing because it was deliberate and because it

illustrates a fundamental difference in outlook between the translator and hisauthor. “Polly Peachum’s Song” tells howPolly behaved to her suitors beforeshemettherightone,Macheath.Ineachverse,aboat ismentioned.Pollyandoneofthesuitorsgetintoit.Inthefirsttwoverses,theboatiscastloosefromtheshore,andPollyadds,“Butthatwasasfarasthingscouldgo.”Inthethirdandlastverse,however,theboatis“tiedtotheshore,”whenshehasgotintoitwithMacheath.

Christopherfoundthisincomprehensible,becausehetookitforgrantedthattheproperpoeticmetaphorforsexualsurrenderwouldbethecastinglooseoftheboat. So, quite arbitrarily, disregarding the meaning of the German text, hetransposedthelinesandhadtheboattiedupinthefirst twoverses,onlytobecastlooseinthelastversewhenPollyispossessedbyMacheath.

No one protested. The book appeared with Christopher’s version of thepoem.ItwasonlywhenChristophermetBrechtforthefirsttime,inCaliforniaaboutsixyearslater,thathehadhismisunderstandingcorrected.Brechttoldhimmildly,with the unemphatic bluntnesswhichwas so characteristic of him: “Aboathastobetiedupbeforeyoucanfuckinit.”

*

No news came from Mexico City. Christopher took this calmly because thelawyer himself had now announced that he was going to Mexico, on otherbusiness, at the end of the month, and would be able to find out what washappening.

Therewasalsoanother,strongerreasonforoptimism.DuringarecentvisittoLondon,thelawyerhadtalkedtosomeofficialsattheHomeOfficeandinquiredaboutHeinz’scase.Accordingtothelawyer,itwasindeedon“moral”groundsthat Heinz had been refused permission to land in England; but the officialsadmittedthattherefusalwasonlybasedonsuspicionandmightbereconsidered.The lawyerhad therefore reapplied forHeinz’s admission, insisting thatHeinzwas a respectable person with highly respectable friends, such as Mr. E. M.Forster.Forster’snamewassaid tohavemadeamost favorable impressionontheofficials.AndForsterhimselffollowedthisupbywritingthemaletter.

So, for a few days, it seemed that the Mexican passport might becomeunnecessary.Then,however,thelawyerwasinformedbytheHomeOfficethatHeinz’sapplicationhadbeenrefused.Unofficially,hewasadvisedtotryagain,later in theyear.Asaroutineprecaution, theauthoritieswouldrefuse toadmitany alien whose background was even slightly questionable, until after thecoronationofGeorgeVIinMay.

*

OnFebruary3,Christopherwent toLondon.TheAscentofF6wassoon tobeproducedattheMercuryTheatreinNottingHillGate.Wystanandhehadagreedthathe shouldwatch the rehearsals, sinceWystandidn’t expect to return fromSpainforsometime.

Asbefore,RupertDoonewas thedirector.Christophergot alongwithhimmuch better thanWystan had. Being both smallmen and both prima donnas,RupertandChristopherwerenaturalalliesas longas theydidn’tcompete;andthere was no question of their competing. Their roles were clearly defined.ChristophersincerelyadmiredRupert’stalentandwascharmedandamusedbyhisbehavior—theregalwayhecarriedhishead,theabsolutenessofhisgesturesof command, his uninhibited treatment of actors, especially when they weregiving him trouble. “He hit highC,”Rupertwould say, “but I hitD.”Rupertbehaved asChristopher imaginedhimself behaving, in his fantasies, but nevercould, in real life. In public, Christopher showed Rupert the greatest respect,never speaking to the actors about their parts exceptwhenRupert had invitedhimtodoso.

The Mercury Theatre was a tiny building. Below the auditorium was abasementinwhichtheBalletRambertrehearsed;therewasconstantrunningupand down stairs andmingling of the balletwith theF6 company. ChristopherfanciedoneoftheRambertdancersandsummonedupthecouragetoaskhimtocomeouttoanearbyteashop.Theyoungmanwasalsoactingasassistantstagemanager and found it entirely natural to be asked by anybody to do or fetchanything.Registeringonlytheword“tea,”hedartedoff,returnedwithacupofit, and vanished again beforeChristopher could even thank him.Momentarily

frustrated, Christopher consulted Rupert, who took the affair in hand withouthesitation. Stopping the youngman in the passage, he said imperiously, “Willyou please show Mr. Isherwood round the theatre?” The young man wasbewildered foramoment.Therewasalmostnothing to show.Besides,hewasawarethatChristopherhadbeencomingtotheMercuryforseveraldaysalreadyandmustknowthepremisesinsideout.Then,graspingthesituation,hegrinnedandsaid:“Well,that’sthestage—”Andthustheicewasbroken.

Oneof thebondsbetweenChristopherandRupertwasasharedadmirationforMickeyRooney,thenaworld-famousteenagerwithalewdIrishgrin.Onthedayofthedressrehearsal,theywereunabletoresistthetemptationtogoandseehiminhislatestfilm,TheDevilTakestheCount(calledTheDevilIsaSissyinthe United States). Having once sat down in the cinema, they couldn’t tearthemselvesawayfromthisoutrageousbutpotenttearjerkeruntilitended.BythetimetheyreachedtheMercury,thecasthadbeenkeptwaitingfornearlyanhour.Rupert, showing not the faintest trace of guilt and offering no explanations,startedworkimmediately.

For Christopher, the production of F6 was an even more enjoyableexperience than the shootingofLittleFriend, because itwas such an intimateaffair. Rupert, RobertMedley, BenjaminBritten, and he became united like afamily inmaking their decisions; there were no studio executives to interferewiththem.IrememberRobertaslarge,smiling,unflustered,alwaysreadywithsuggestionsforsceniceffectsandsolutionstotechnicalproblems;Benaspale,boyish,indefatigable,scribblingmusiconhislap,thenhurryingtothepianotoplay it. I can’t remember Christopher doing anything in particular, exceptlaughingagreatdeal.

On the opening night, February 26, the audiencewas as big as the theaterwouldhold.KathleenandRichardwerethereandalsoWystan’smother.Besidethissolemnintensewomanwithherausterenose,Kathleenseemedfrivolouslyfeminine.Kathleenalwayshad the impression thatMrs.Audendisapprovedofher.

IfF6didn’tquitesucceedasawhole,itatleastpleasedmanypeoplebythevariousnessof itsparts.TheduologuebetweenMr.A. andMrs.A. formedan

independentplaylet,whichnearlyeverybodyenjoyed.Ransom’srantingsandhiswoozyconversationwiththeAbbotofthemonasteryprovidednecessarytragicrelieffromtheBBCcomedians.HedliAnderson’ssingingofBritten’smusicwasa performance which needed no support—especially in the overwhelmingfuneraldirge, “Stopall theclocks.”Doonesaw to it that thechangesof sceneandmoodweremadeveryquickly.

The effect of Edward Lamp’s off-scene destruction by the avalanche wasunexpectedly convincing. It was created by setting up a microphone in thebackstagelavatoryandflushingthetoilet.Theamplifiednoisewasawesome.

(WhenF6was performed inNewYork by theDrovePlayers, in 1939, itsdirector, Forrest Thayr, Jr., created an even more powerful effect in a totallydifferentway.Theplaywasstagedinastudiowithastaircaseatoneendofit.This staircase represented themountain.The actors leanedover the rail of thestaircase, looking down toward the ledge onwhichLampwas supposed to bestanding. They began yelling to him that the avalanche was coming—but nosoundsweremadebackstagetorepresentit.Therewasapauseofdeadsilence.Then,somewhereinthebackofthebuilding,withterrificviolence,adoorwasslammed.)

*

Wystan returned from Spain on March 4, sooner than expected. He wasunwilling to talk about his experiences, but they had obviously beenunsatisfactory;hefelt thathehadn’tbeenallowedtobereallyuseful.Also,hehadreceivedcertainnegativeanddisturbingimpressionswhichIshallmentionlater.

Onthenightofhisreturn,hewentwithChristophertoseetheplay.Notlongafter thecurtainhadgoneup, thechangesinthetextmadebyChristopherandRupertbegantobeevident.Theywerenoneofthemdrastic.ButWystanturnedtoChristopherandsaid,inaloudreproachfulwhisper:“Mydear,whathaveyoudonetoit?”Mostoftheaudienceheardhimandwereamused.

Atamuchlaterperformance,theaudiencewassimilarlyamusedbyMargot,Countess of Oxford andAsquith. This formidable patricianwas greatly taken

withHedliAnderson.WhenHedlileftthestage,Margotdozedoffandwoketofindherself in themidstofa scenewhichsheneitherunderstoodnorenjoyed.She demanded indignantly: “What have they done with that charming littleDanishgirl?”

*

F6gotsomeexcellentnoticesandwasaconsiderablesuccess. InApril, itwastransferredtoabiggertheater—theLittle.Twoyearslater,itwasrevivedattheOldVic.

*

On March 17, Christopher returned to Brussels. Nothing had yet been heardfrom Mexico City, but Christopher had new plans for the immediate future.WhileinParis,seeingWystanofftoSpain,hehadvisitedtheSterns,whowerenowlivinginaflatontheQuaidel’Horloge.ChristopherhadtoldTaniaSternhowfrustratedHeinzwasfeelinginBrussels,withnothingtodo.Taniahadbeensympathetic and, as usual, practical. She suggested that Heinz should learn atrade. Here she knew a silversmith who would give him lessons. So it wasarrangedthatheandChristophershouldmovetoParisforawhile.Theyhadn’tdonethissoonerbecausethelawyerhadhadsomedifficultyingettingHeinzaFrenchvisa.Butnowthevisahadbeengranted.TheyleftBrusselsafewdaysafterChristopher’sreturnthere.

CyrilConnollywasinParisatthattimewithhisAmericanwife,Jean,andafriendoftheirs,alsoAmerican,namedTonyBower.JeanandTonywerelatertoappear, affectionately caricatured as Ruthie and Ronny, inDown There on aVisit:

Sheisabiggirlaltogether;bighips,bigbottom,biglegs.I’veseldomseenanyonelooksoplacid,sowide-open to visitors, so sleepy-slow. Her great beautiful gentle cow-eyes have sculptured lidswhichmakemethinkofanAsianbas-relief—thecarvingofsomegiantgoddess.

IlikeRonny.Hisimpudent,attractivelycomicfacekeepsbreakingintogrins,andhisroundblueeyessparklewithalit-upgaietywhichisinitsownwaycourageous,becauseheisn’tascarefreeashetriestoappear.

Tony was then in the relationship of a disciple to the Connollys. He waseagertofollowtheiradviceandimitatetheirlifestyleineveryparticular.OnthedaywhenChristopher andHeinz firstmet him, hewas scarcely aware of hissurroundings. This was because, the previous evening, he had obedientlyswallowedsomesleepingpillswhichJeanConnollyhadgivenhim.Theywerethe ones she used regularly,without any visible ill effects to herself, but theyweretriplestrength.Tonywasnotonlyamodeldisciplebutfreewithhismoney.Hehadthusgainedthereputationofbeingenormouslyrich,whichhewasn’t.Hebought theConnollys and their friends gourmetmeals at the restaurantsCyrilfavored.

ChristopherknewfewEtoniansbecausehedespisedthemonprinciple,asanarticleofhisleft-wingsnobbery.ButforCyril,asforBrianHoward,hehadtomakeanexception.CyrilwascertainlyoneofEton’smostcreditablegrowths,asBrianwasoneofitsmostmonstrous.CyrilwonChristopher’sadmirationbythebrilliantartificeofhiswitand thegenuinenessofhispassions—for landscape,architecture,classicalandRomaniclanguages,food,wine,lemurs,andliterature.Hisbigface—flatblueeyes,tinynose,anddoublechin—lookedasagelessasaBuddha’s; but he was more of a pope than a Buddha, for he spoke withconsciousauthority,implyingthatheknewyou,asawriter,betterthanyouknewyourself—knewyouhistoricallyinrelationtotheentirehierarchyofletters,pastandpresent,andcouldassignyouaplaceinit.Youmightlosethatplacelater,ofcourse. If you ever did, he would tell you so, blandly but brutally. He had aterriblephraseforsuchoutcasts:“ThosewhomtheGodhasforsaken.”

ConnollyhadpraisedTheMemorial,Mr.Norris,andTheNowaksandhewassoontorefertoChristopherinprintas“ahopeofEnglishfiction.”Thusfanned,Christopher’sambitionburnedhotlyandhedeterminedthatCyril’shopesshouldnotbedisappointed.Nevertheless,Forster’sapprovalwasstillworthfarmoretoChristopher than Connolly’s. Connolly made Christopher feel competitive,Forsterdidn’t—becausetheoneofferedfame;theother,love.ConnollyandhisGod could forsake Christopher. Forster never would, however muchChristopher’sworkmightdeteriorate.

The five of them rode bicycles around Fontainebleau and walked in the

forest. I have a photograph of Jean Connolly striking an attitude; she ispretendingtobeRansomurginghisfollowersontowardthesummitofF6.AndIrememberacoldness,onlymomentaryhowever,betweenCyrilandChristopher.CyrilhadaskedChristopher,inatonewhichChristopherfoundpatronizing,howhe felt aboutHeinz—the implication seeming tobe thatCyril couldn’tbelievethatanintelligentadultlikeChristophercouldtakesucharelationshipaltogetherseriously.To this,Christopher replied casually but nastily: “Oh, verymuch asyoufeelaboutJean,Isuppose.”Cyrilobviouslyfoundthisinsulting,toJeanandtohimself.Buthecouldn’tverywellsayso.

*

OnApril1,ChristopherwentovertoLondononsomebusiness.Hehadmeanthisvisit tobe short.But, soonafterhearrived,hebecame illwithan infectedmouth.Theinfectionflaredupsuddenlyinacavityfromwhichatoothhadbeenonly partly extracted by a clumsy dentist, a few weeks earlier, leaving anembeddedfragment.

OnhisreturnfromSpain,WystanhadleftanovercoatatKathleen’shouse.ItwasverydirtybutChristopherhadbeensleepingwithitonhisbed;itmadehimfeelanaffectionatenearnesstoWystan.NannynowdecidedthattheSpanishwargerms in the coat had infected Christopher. “It’s all that old coat,” she keptmuttering.

Christopher’sconditiongotgraduallyworse,partlybecauseKathleenrefusedtotakehisillnessseriously.Hishighfeverwashisfuryagainstherskepticism.His mouth became ulcerated and his tonsils inflamed. The doctor couldn’texactlydiagnosethenatureoftheinfectionandlateradmittedthathehadbeengravelyworried.AllhecouldsaywasthatitwouldbeunwisetoextracttherestofthetoothuntilChristopherwasbetter.

Meanwhile, therewereplentyofvisitors:TonyBower, justoverfromParis—Kathleendescribeshiminherdiaryas“atallyoungman,ratherlikeafriendlygiraffe”;Stephen,sunburnedfrombeinginSpain,withhiswife,Inez,“smallandrather ironic”—Kathleen neglects to mention that Inez was strikingly good-looking.“Stephen’sfriendJimmyhasmanagedtofalloutwiththeInternational

Brigadeandbeenput inprison”—this isKathleen’swayofsaying thathehaddeserted and been caught. Later, thanks to Stephen’s efforts, Jimmy waspardonedandallowedtoleavethecountry.

Kathleenwas critical ofWystan, because he filled the air ofChristopher’sroomwithcigarettesmokeandbangedonthepiano.EdwardUpward,whocamewith his wife, Hilda, got much better marks. Kathleen felt that his recentmarriagewas already a success—“he looks sowell and cared for.” Indeed, hewassoplumpthatKathleendidn’tatfirstrecognizehim.ShefoundWystan“amostrestlessunpeacefulperson”andEdward“justthereverse.”

*

OnApril 13,Wystan left forParis.Christopherhadhoped togowithhimbutthiswasnowoutofthequestion.Ontheseventeenth,WystanphonedtosaythatHeinzwasintrouble.TheFrenchpolicehadtoldhimthathispermittostayinFrancewouldnotberenewed.Itwasduetoexpireintwodays.

Whathadhappened?Christopherlatergotvariousreports.Thiswas,moreorless,what theyaddedupto:Heinzhadhadthebadlucktobesitting inacaféwhen an Englishwoman complained to the police that her necklace had beenstolen. The police questioned everybody present.Heinz,whowas a bit drunkand therefore aggressive, had got into an argument with them. So, withoutaccusinghimofthetheft,theyhaddetainedhimtemporarilyandcross-examinedhimfurther.Thustheydiscoveredthathehadlosthisidentitycard,ashortwhilepreviously,inastreetfight.ThentheyhadinterviewedpeopleatthehotelwhereHeinzwasstayingandhadbeentold(a)thathewasapracticingmaleprostituteand (b) that he had seduced the chambermaid, whowas deaf and dumb. Thepolicehadthereforedecidedthathewasanundesirablealien.

It so happened that Tony Bower was having tea with Christopher whenWystan’s phone call came through. Tony offered to go to Paris next day andpersonallyescortHeinztoLuxembourg.Itwastheonlymoveonthechessboardwhich Christopher could see, since Heinz had no visa for either Holland orBelgiumandcouldn’tgetoneatsuchshortnotice.

Tony was then somewhat in love with Christopher. So it was easy for

Christopher, who was well aware of this, to prompt Tony to make his offer.ChristophertoldhimselfthathewasdoingTonyafavor,makinghimhappybyletting him be helpful. Here he miscalculated. Tony’s impulsive gesture wasfollowedbyresentment,whenhebegantofeelhehadmerelybeenmadeuseof.Allthiswassoonforgotten,however,andtheyremainedfriends.

ChristopherwasinwardlyconvincedthathecouldsomehowhavepreventedHeinz’sexpulsionfromFrance,ifhehadbeeninParis.Nodoubthewaswrong,buthisconvictionmadehimfeelfrustrated.Onceagain,Englandhadbecomeaprison. He vented his spleen on Kathleen, growing increasingly difficult andimperious.Kathleenwrites:

OliveMangeotcameatfiveandstayedtillseven,andasusualChristopherwasveryaggrievedandirritableafterbeingwithher,thoughthistimeIdaresayhewasthoroughlyovertired,notbeingfitformuchtalking.ShebroughttheDailyWorker,whichalwaysmakeshimfeelhowunsympatheticwearewithhispoliticalviews.Andhewenttobedveryoffendedandvexedaswellasverytired.Ithinkwearealltiredandhedoesnotrealizewearetryingtodoourbest.

Nanny very tired and naturally rather aggrieved at the way Christopher takes everything forgranted, and hardly answers or says thank you andwe really all spend our time running up anddownstairswhileheposesasa sortof sultan,andvery impatient,expectinga seriesof teas tobecarriedupforhisfriends,andfindingfaultwiththecooking.

Oneday,whenhefelttootoxictotalkorevenread,Christopherhadtheideaof sitting for William Coldstream, whom he had met through Wystan.ColdstreamhadalreadysuggestedpaintingChristopher’sportraitandheagreedatoncetocome.Hewasattractive,amusing,andintelligent;Kathleencallshim“appreciative”—one of her highest terms of commendation. He paintedChristopheronacouch,proppedupagainstpillows,wearingastriped redandblue dressing gown given him by Uncle Henry. In this position, Christophercould doze or lie in a semi-coma of not disagreeable weakness, imagininghimselftobelazily,easilydying.

The picture was duly finished and taken to Coldstream’s dealer. Later,Coldstreammeta friend in the streetwho toldhim:“I’ve justbeen lookingatoneofyourpaintings—I’mdelightedwithit—youknow—thatcharmingportraitofanoldladylyinginbed—”

FOURTEEN

OnApril25,ChristopherwaswellenoughtogotoLuxembourg.HetraveledbywayofBelgiumandhadadinnerbetweentrainswithGeraldHamilton,whichhelaterdescribedtoForster:

Aftertheworstcrossingofmylife,averydazingnonstop-talkingdinnerwithMr.Norris:“Hereyouare,mydearboy,totheminute,Ireallymustapologizethateverythingisn’tquiteready,butthisistheverybestduckobtainable,tellmehonestly,don’tyouthinkit’sdecidedlyonthecoldside,well,well,Imustapologizebutdon’tlet’swasteourtimewemustreallytalkaboutyouraffairs,yes,yes,whatkindofjourneydidyouhave,butdostart,letmesee,asIwassaying,mygoodness,thereisn’tanymustard…”etc.etc.IcaughtthetrainonfromBrusselsbytheskinofmyteeth.

Heinz and Tony Bower were at the Hotel Gaisser, where Christopher andHeinzhadstayedin1935.ChristopherfoundTonybored,afteraweekofHeinz-sitting, and impatient to get away. Heinz was feeling deeply aggrieved. Thepolice,hesaid,hadbelievedalltheliestoldthembytwoprostituteswholivedathishotelanddidn’tlikehim.Hefirmlydeniedmostofthechargesmadeagainsthim, including an alleged statement by the silversmith that he had failed toappearforhislessons.Actually,hehadonlymissedone,andthesilversmithhadtold him that hewas a promising pupil. In proof of this, he produced a silverashtraywhichhehadmadeforChristopher.

Christopher now believed Heinz and felt ashamed, because, as he had toadmittohimself,hehadtakenitforgrantedthatHeinzhaddoneeverythinghewas accused of having done. While in London, he had unconsciously comeroundtotheattitudeofKathleenandothers,thatHeinzwasstillanirresponsibleadolescent. Instead of having faith inHeinz, Christopher hadmerely forgivenhiminadvance,beforehearingwhathehadtosayinhisowndefense.

AsfarastheFrenchauthoritieswereconcerned,thequestionofHeinz’sguiltwas academic. The very fact that they hadn’t accused him of any particularcrimemadethesituationhopeless.Hewassimplyontheirundesirablelist—andall Germans, at that time, were becoming increasingly undesirable in France.Therewasnohopethattheywouldrelentintheforeseeablefuture.However,the

lawyer assured Christopher that Heinz would have no difficulty in reenteringBelgiumassoonashehadhisMexicanpassport.ItappearedthattheMexicanshadsuddenlyannouncedthatthiswouldbeavailablealmostimmediately.

Christopheronlyhalfbelievedthispromise,buthewasn’tmuchworried.Tohim,therewassomethingsafeaboutLuxembourg,justbecauseitwassosmall.You even got an intimate, protected feeling when you looked at the publiclydisplayed photographs of its sulky-faced Grand Duchess Charlotte and herteenagesonPrinceJean,withhischarminggrin.AfterChristopher’sillnessandHeinz’stroublesinParis, theywerehappytobetogetheragain.Andnowtheirlongperiodofwaiting—waitingtobeginanewlife—seemednearlyover.Nowatlast,surely,somethingdefinitewasboundtohappen.

OnMay4,Geraldvisitedthem.ThelawyerhadtoldhimthattherewouldbenewsfromtheMexicansbytheendofthatweek.Heleftagainnextday.Theendof the week came and there was no news. Christopher continued to feeloptimistic.Perhapsitwasthespringtimewhichhadraisedhisspirits.

*

OnWednesday,May12—theday,incidentally,ofGeorgeVI’scoronation—twopoliceofficialsvisitedtheHotelGaisserwhileChristopherandHeinzwerestillinbed.TheytoldHeinzthathewasexpelledfromLuxembourgandmustleaveimmediately.

ChristopherphonedthelawyerinBrussels.Thelawyershowednosurprise;hewas calmand reassuring.Thiswasnothing serious.All that hadhappened,obviously, was that the French police had finally got around to sending theirlatestlistofundesirablestotheircolleaguesinLuxembourg.Heinz’sexpulsionwas therefore just amatter of routine.Yes, he could getHeinz an emergencyshort-term visa forBelgium.ButHeinzwould have to go back intoGermanyfirst.

Itwaslikeaverymatter-of-factnightmare.ChristopherlistenedinadazeofdismayasthelawyerexplainedthatHeinzmusttakeatraintoTrier,becausethatwas the nearestGerman city to the frontier.Hemust stay at such and such ahotel.ThelawyerwoulddrivedowntoTrierhimself,nextday,andgetthevisa

forHeinz from the Belgian consulate there. That afternoon, theywould drivebacktogethertoBrussels,whereChristopherwouldbewaitingforthem.

Partly emerging from his daze, Christopher began to ask questions. Whycouldn’tthelawyerarrangetohavethevisaissuedbytheBelgianconsulateinLuxembourg? Because, said the lawyer, that couldn’t be put through beforetomorrowandHeinzhad to leaveLuxembourg today.But couldn’t the lawyercomedownheretodayanddosomethingtodelayHeinz’sexpulsion?No,therewasnothinghecoulddo;suchthingswereimpossibletoarrangeatshortnotice.Whycouldn’tChristophergowithHeinztoTrier?Because,beingtogether,theywould call more attention to themselves. They might possibly be questioned.Heinzwouldbemuchlessconspicuousalone.ChristopherwastocomestraighttoBrussels,andhewasn’ttoworry.Ifthelawyer’sinstructionswerefollowed,everythingwouldgosmoothly.

SoChristopher andHeinz packed andwent to the station. They said verylittle. Perhaps the look in Heinz’s eyes was fatalistic, not reproachful. ButChristopherreadareproachinthem:“You’resendingmeaway.Weshallneversee each other again.” This was the final move on the chessboard, the oneChristopher had never allowed himself to contemplate. At that moment, itseemedtohavebeeninevitablefromthebeginning.

ThenChristophergotintohisowntrain.Itwashalfemptyandhewasalonein his compartment. It approached the Belgian frontier through thick woods.Passportless rabbitswerehoppingabout;visalessbirds flewhither and thither,notevenknowingwhichcountry theywere in.Theycrossed intoBelgiumandbackagain,findingthegrassandthetreesnodifferent.

The lawyer had suspected that Christopher was toying with the idea ofsmugglingHeinz intoBelgium.His lastwordshadbeenawarning:“Don’tdoanythingsilly.You’donlygetHeinzintomuchworsetroublethanhe’sinnow.”Whenthetrainstoppedat thefrontier,Christophertookouthispassport,readyfor inspection. But no one came into the compartment. The train moved onagain.Forthefirsttimeinhislife,hefoundhimselfenteringaforeigncountrywithoutofficialpermission.IfHeinzhadbeenwithhim,whatcouldthelawyerhavedonebutaccepttheaccomplishedfactandsomehowarrangeforHeinzto

remaininBelgium?

*

Nextmorning,thelawyerleftBrusselsbycarforTrier,ashehadpromised.Thatnighthereturned,alone.

He told Christopher that he had duly met Heinz at the hotel. Heinz hadassuredhimthathehadn’tbeenquestioned,hadn’tarousedanybody’scuriosity.Theyhadgonetotheconsulateandgotthevisa.Then,justastheywereabouttostartontheirreturnjourney,someGestapoagentshadappeared.TheyhadaskedtoseeHeinz’spapersandhadthentakenhimawaywiththem.Theyhadtoldthelawyer thatHeinzwasunder arrest as adraft evader.Before leavingTrier, thelawyerhadconsultedaGermanlawyerandengagedhimtodefendHeinzathisforthcomingtrial.

*

Adayortwoafterthearrest,theGermanlawyercamefromTriertoBrusselstodiscuss the tactics of Heinz’s defense. He was a Nazi Partymember in goodstanding andhad theboundless cynicismof onewho is determined to surviveunder any conceivable political conditions. Christopher, in his present hyper-emotional state, found a strange relief in talking to him, because he seemedutterlyincapableofsympathy.

Heinz was now in four kinds of potential trouble: He had attempted tochange his nationality. (This could almost certainly be concealed from theprosecution.)

Hehadconsortedwithanumberofprominentanti-Nazis,mostofthemJews.(This could probably be concealed or, at worst, excused as having beenChristopher’sfault.)

Hehadbeenguiltyofhomosexual acts. (This couldn’tbe concealed, sinceHeinz had already confessed to them, but itmight be partially excused, if thedefensewasproperlyhandled.)

HehaddisregardedthedraftcallinPortugal.(Thiscouldn’tbeconcealedorexcused.)

Before their parting in Luxembourg, Christopher had said to Heinz: “Justsuppose that somethinggoeswrongandyouget arrested,you’re toput all theblameonme.TellthemIseducedyou.Tellthemaboutourhavingsextogether.Sticktothat.Don’tshowanyinterestinpolitics,orthey’llsuspectyouofstayingaway fromGermanybecauseyou’re anti-Nazi.Make thembelieve that you’recompletely stupid.” And this was what Heinz, with considerable cunning andnerve,hadmanagedtodo.

ChristopherandtheGermanlawyerfullyagreedthatChristopher’scharactermustbeblackenedat the trial inorder towhitenHeinz’s.Christophermustberepresented to the court, in his absence, as a totally debauched creature, tooeffetetobeanti-Nazieven,whohadseducedthissillyGermanboyatanearlyage and had persuaded him to leave Germany and live abroad with him bygivinghimlargesumsofmoney.Whatsexualacthadtheyperformedtogether?Obviously,theymusthavedonesomething;otherwise,Christopher’sassociationwith Heinz might seem inexplicable to the police and therefore, perhaps,suspicious insomeotherway.TheGerman lawyerproposed to reduceHeinz’sguilt to aminimumby having him confess only to the least of all punishablesexual acts. He was to say that he and Christopher had had “eineausgesprochene Sucht zur wechselseitigen Onanie”—“a pronounced addictiontoreciprocalonanism.”Thiswasthenamewhichtheirlovewastodaretospeak,inthefaceofitsenemies!TheGermanlawyer’stonewasmatter-of-fact;tohimthiswasmerelylegalphraseology.GeraldHamilton,whowaspresent,appearedgenuinelyembarrassedandmurmured,“Well,really!”Christopher laughedoutloud,because,yes,itwasfunny—andlaughterwastheonlyalternativetofutilescreaminghate.

*

Christopher’sdiary,May26:

Unbelievable as it seems, it’s just a fortnight since I said goodbye to Heinz at the Luxembourgrailway-station.

HowhaveIgotthroughthetime?It’sdifficulttosay.Tothosewhofindthemselvesinasituationlikemine,Ican’trecommendmasturbationtoohighly.Judiciouslypractised, itdullsyourfeelings

almostcompletely.Only,ifyoudoittoomuch,youfeelmoremiserablethanever.Atfirst,Ididn’tthinkaboutHeinzatall.Ortriednotto.Ifeltlikeahouseinwhichoneroom,

thebiggest,islockedup.Then,verycautiously,Iallowedmyselftothinkofhiminlittledoses—fiveminutesatatime.ThenIhadagoodcryandfeltbetter.Butitisveryhardtocry,whenyouknowinadvancethatcryingwilldoyougood.

Themost painful is to rememberhimwith animals. I thinkofhim stroking a rabbit, giving anew-born chicken its first drink ofwater, playingwith Teddy. That’s theworst. Atmeal-times Irememberhim,too,andwonderwhathe’seating.It’ssomonstroustothinkofhimlockedinthatstoneroom—sounnatural.Iseehim,forsomereason,dressedrathersmartly,inhisbestsuit,sittingon the edge of his hard narrow bed, staring dully at his shoes. I don’t imagine him fidgeting orpacingthecellorbeatingthedoorwithhisfists.He’lltakeitallquitefatalistically—justashetookourparting.

Meanwhile,Isitaloneinaniceback-bedroomoftheHotelduVallon,listeningtothewirelesswhichneverstopsplayinginthecourtyardbelow,andthinking:NowImustpullmyselftogether.Imustwork.

Mybookisthreequartersfinished.Theweatherisstifling.

InChristopher’sdiarythereisnomentionofhismoresecretreactions.Thesewerecausedbyhisfrustration,whichdemandedaresponsiblevillain.Hehadnodifficultyinfindingone.

Therewasanincidenttowhichhismindkeptreturning.OnthenightofMay13,afterthelawyerhadarrivedbackfromTrierwiththenewsofHeinz’sarrest,Christopher had gone to his own room, wanting to be by himself. Almost atonce,aboy—oneofGerald’sfriends—knockedonhisdoor.Christopherwasinno mood to talk and he made this clear. But the boy, though obviouslyembarrassed,wouldn’tgoaway.AtlengthheconfessedthatGeraldhadtoldhimChristophermustn’tbeleftalone,lestheshoulddosomething“dreadful.”

ThemoreChristopherthoughtaboutGerald’sbehavioronthisoccasion,themore peculiar—and the more sinister—it seemed. The voice of his suspicionwhispered:“Geraldknowsyoufar toowell to imaginethatyou’devercommitsuicide. Then what made him get into that sudden panic? There’s only oneexplanation:hefeltguilty!RememberthatIrishCatholicbackgroundofhis.He’sstill superstitious, still afraidofhell-fire.Hemusthavedone somethingwhichmadehim feel that, ifyou’dkilledyourself thatnight,yourbloodwouldhavebeenonhishead…Nowthatherealizesyouaren’tgoingtodoit,he’sstoppedworrying.”

Suppose that there had never been any negotiationswithMexico. Supposethatthepassport—which,thelawyerclaimed,hadatlastarrivedandwaswaitingforHeinzwheneverhereturnedtoBrussels—didn’texistatall.SupposethatthemanwhohadrepresentedhimselfasamemberoftheMexicanlegationwasjustan accomplice of Gerald and the lawyer. Suppose that the two of them hadplannedfromthebeginningtoavoidashowdownbygettingHeinzarrestedandsentbacktoGermany.SupposethattheEnglishwomanwhocalledinthepoliceatthecaféinPariswasanotheraccomplice.SupposethatwhoeverstoleHeinz’sidentitycardhadbeenbribedtodoit,andalsothegirlsatthehotelwhospokeagainsthim.SupposethatGeraldhadcometoLuxembourgonMay4toarrangeforthepolicetheretoexpelHeinzandtipofftheGestapoinTriertobeonthelookoutforhisarrival.Suppose—

Christopher would go on like this to himself until he ended by having toadmit thathis suspicionsweremere fantasies.Nevertheless, againstall reason,he continued to feel that Gerald—but not the lawyer—was somehow guilty.This,initself,wasunreasonable;eitherthetwoofthemmusthavebeenpartnersin the crime, or theywere both innocent. But Christopherwas relying on hisintuition,nothisintellect,ashealwaysultimatelydid.Hisintuitiontoldhimthatthe lawyer was too prudent, too conventional to join in such a hazardousconspiracy; especially when the reward was no more than a half share,presumably, of the thousand pounds, minus considerable payments foraccomplicesandotheritems.

AndsurelyonlyaninnocentmancouldhavethethickskinandtheemotionalstupiditytosaywhatthelawyersaidtoChristopher,justafewdaysafterHeinz’sarrest:“Mr.Isherwood,we’rebothmenof theworld—frankly,don’tyouthinkyou’rewelloutofthis?Afterall,you’vedoneeverythingyoucouldforHeinz.Andhehascausedyouandyourmotheragreatdealoftroubleandexpense.”

The lawyer further demonstrated the thickness of his skin during a visitwhich he paid Kathleen in London on May 20. He began—according toKathleen’s diary—by deploring Heinz’s indiscretion in bringing Christopher’sname into thecase.The lawyer,ofcourse,knewperfectlywell thatHeinzhadonly done what Christopher had told him to do. He was lying to Kathleen

because, I suppose, he thought it would please her to hear Heinz blamed.Kathleenmightwellhavebeenpleased,ifshehadn’tknownthathewaslying;shehadalreadybeentoldthetruefactsbyChristopher.Unawareofhisblunder,the lawyer went on to make a bigger one. He told Kathleen that he wishedChristopher would get rid of his present set of friends; they were a greathandicap to him in his career, despite all his cleverness. Kathleen doesn’tcomment on this in her diary, but she must have resented the lawyer’s toneextremely.Herewasthis(fromherpointofview)“shady”littlepersontalkingtoher as though he were Cousin Graham! And what impudence to criticizeChristopher’s“presentset”whenhehimselfwasoneofthem!

WhenChristophersaidtohimselfthatGeraldwassomehowguilty,whatheactuallymeantwas thatGeraldwascapableof thiscrime.Gerald’sdishonestywasn’tprudent, itwaspathological.Therewasnoquestion, inhis case,of thesumatstakebeingtoosmall,oroftheriskoflosingafriendtoogreat.Hewouldbetrayafriendwithouthesitationandimmediatelyfeelterrifiedofbeingfoundout and punished for it, in this and the nextworld.Christopherwas forced tobelievehimtechnicallyinnocent.AndHeinz,whentheydiscussedthequestionmany years later, believed him innocent too. Yet the fantasy-making part ofChristopher’smindharbored, from that timeonward, a resolve. IfChristopherwasable tobepresentatGerald’sdeathbed,hewouldkneelbeside itandask,“Gerald,didyoudoit?”IfGeraldanswered,“Yes,”Christopherwouldforgivehim;if“No,”Christopherwouldbelievehimbutwouldfeelsubtlydisappointed.Ican’tunderstand the intentof this fantasy,unless itwas thathe lovedGeraldandwouldwanttogivehimasortofgoing-awaypresent.ButwhenGeralddiddie,in1970,Christopherwaselsewhere.

Arising out of the imagined question to Gerald, there was another whichChristophernowbegan toaskhimself.Am Iguilty?Did Idoall Imighthavedone to saveHeinz?He thoughthowBrianHoward, forexample,wouldhavebehaved. Instead of becoming helpless with misery and obeying the lawyer’sinstructions, Brian would have risked taking Heinz with him on the Brusselstrain. And, if Brian hadn’t had Christopher’s luck at the Belgian frontier, hewould have fought to the very end—demanding to see the British consul,

telephoning theForeignOffice, throwing himself at theGrandDuchess’s feet.HownobleBrian’srecklessnessseemed!WhyhadChristopherfailedtorise totheoccasion?I’mnotamanofaction,hesaidtohimself.Butitwasn’tquiteassimpleasthat.

*

Meanwhile,heworkedonLionsandShadows,finishingthatdraftofit.WilliamRobson-ScottcametostaywithhimattheHotelduVallon.ChristopherfeltsogratefulforthemoralsupportwhichWilliam’smerepresencegavehimthathededicatedthebooktoWilliamwhenitwaspublished.

Heinz’strialwasheldinthemiddleofJune.Christopher’snameappearedinthe transcript of the proceedings, incorrectly spelled. “The English citizenIschervood, who unfortunately cannot be brought to justice,” was accused ofhaving committed reciprocal onanism with the prisoner in fourteen foreigncountries and in the German Reich. The judge observed that, since he wasignorantofthevariouspenaltiesfortheprisoner’scrimeintheseothercountries,hewouldhavetopunishhimaccordingtoGermanlaw.Thisremarkmayormaynothavebeenmeantasajoke,butitstonedoessuggestthattheattitudeofthecourt was relatively unhysterical, un-Nazi. Heinz got what was in those daysconsidered a light sentence: sixmonths in prison, to be followedby a year oflaborserviceforthestateandtwoyearsintheArmy.

During the trial, Christopher had been mercifully ignorant of the greatestdangerwhichhadthreatenedHeinz.Insteadofbeingsentencedtoafixedterminaregularprison,Heinzmighteasilyhavebeensentencedtoanindefiniteterminaconcentrationcamp,asmanyhomosexualswere.Incamp,HeinzwouldhavebeentreatedasanoutcastoftheReichwhodifferedfromaJewonlyinhavingtowear a pink triangle on his clothes instead of a yellow star. Like the Jews,homosexualswereoftenput into“liquidation”units, inwhich theyweregivenlessfoodandmoreworkthanotherprisoners.Thus,thousandsofthemdied.

After Heinz had been sentenced, all Christopher could do for himwas tosendhimletterssodiscreetlywordedthattheywerenomorethantokensandtoprovidehim,throughtheGermanlawyer,withcigarettesandwithfoodthatwas

better than the regulation prison fare. Therewas no hope, now, of the two ofthembeingabletoseeeachotherbefore1941,whenHeinzfinishedhismilitaryservice,andvery littlehope thathewouldbeallowed to leaveGermany,eventhen.

*

In July, Christopher was living at Kathleen’s house in London. He had beenhiredtoworkonascreenplaybasedonastorybyCarlZuckmayer.Irememberalmostnothingaboutit,exceptthatitwassetinAustria.LudwigBergerwastodirectit.

SincethedialoguewasbeingwritteninEnglish,oneoftheirfirstproblemswas:WhatkindofBritishdialectisthebestequivalenttothespeechofAustrianpeasants? Should there, for example, be a suggestion of West Country, orYorkshire, or Highland Scots? The question was referred to the producer,AlexanderKorda.Bergeraskedhim,inGerman:“Whatdothepeasantsspeak?”andreceivedthelapidaryanswer:“Little.”

Thefilmwasnevermade.

*

InAugust,WystanandChristopherwenttoDovertogetherandstayedthereuntilthemiddleofSeptember.Theyhadroomsinahouseontheharbor,9EastCliff.The gulls which nested in the cliff face behind the house kept up a franticsquawking.Christopherfounditcheerfulandabsurd,butWystancalledit“sadlikework” in the poemaboutDoverwhichhewrote during their visit. Itwasthen that Christopher finished the final draft of Lions and Shadows and theywrotethefirstdraftoftheirnewplay,OntheFrontier.Inasense,itwasabouttheHeinz situation: loverswho are separated by a frontier. ButwhenWystanwanted to write a ballad describing Christopher’s life with Heinz and theirparting,Christopherobjectedabsolutely.Having read“MissGee,”ChristopherhatedtoimaginehisprivatetragedybeingretoldintheheartlesscomicstyleoftheAudenballads.Nothing thatWystan saidcouldconvincehim that thisonewouldbedifferent.Ayearorsolater,Christopherwithdrewhisveto,fearingthat

he might have aborted a masterpiece. Wystan, however, said he had nowforgottenallhisideasforit.

Dover’s chief charm for Christopher was that it was a place of transit:channelsteamerscomingandgoing,travelersarrivinganddeparting,alloftheminahurry.Hewatchedthemandfeltrelaxedbecausehewasn’t inahurryanddidn’thaveanywheretogo.Theseanxiouspeopleseemedtobelongtoanotherlife—thelifehehadbeenleadinguptothetimeofHeinz’sarrest.

*

Earlier that summer, Faber and Faber and Random House—the British andAmerican publishers of their plays and Auden’s poems—had offered them acontracttowriteatravelbookaboutanyAsiancountryorcountriestheychosetovisit. (Maybe this ideahadbeen suggested to thepublishersby thepseudo-Asian setting of F6!) Wystan and Christopher would probably have chosenChinaanyway,becauseof its exoticappeal. If theyhadhesitatedat all, itwasbecausemeresightseeingseemeddilettanteandescapistinthecrisisatmosphereofthelatethirties.ThentheirmindshadbeenmadeupforthembytheJapaneseArmy. It had invaded southward from Peking in early July and had attackedShanghai a month later. China had now become one of the world’s decisivebattlegrounds. And, unlike Spain, it wasn’t already crowdedwith star literaryobservers. (How could one compete with Hemingway and Malraux?) “We’llhaveawarallofourveryown,”saidWystan.Theyplanned to leaveEnglandtowardtheendoftheyear.

*

FromChristopher’sdiary,October–November:

HeinzisalwaysthelastpersonIthinkofatnight,thefirstinthemorning.NevertoforgetHeinz.Nevertoceasetobegratefultohimforeverymomentofourfiveyears

together.Isupposeitisn’tsomuchHeinzhimselfImissasthatpartofmyselfwhichonlyexistedinhis

company.Ihadbetterfaceit.Ishallneverseehimagain.Andperhapsthisisthebestforusboth.

What should I feel, now, if, by somemiracle, Heinz was let out of Germany? Great joy, ofcourse.Butalso(Imustbeabsolutelyfrank)Ishouldbealittlebitdoubtful;forwhat,really,haveItoofferhim?Notevenaproperhomeoraplaceinanykindofsocialscheme.

Therearetimes—inpublishers’offices,atcocktailparties—whenthelittlepatentleatherdevilofsuccesswhispersinmyear:“Hetravelsfurthestwhotravelsalone!”IwishIcouldacceptthisoranyotherconsolation,howeverbase.

This existence in London is having a curious and bad effect onme. I am getting ludicrouslyambitious.Iwanttobeknown,flattered,talkedabout;toseemynameinthepapers.And,theworstofitis,Ican.It’sallsocheapandeasy.

Here,alone,Iamatanyratestronger.Iwant,aboveall,tobestrong—togiveprotectionlikeatree.Thisisn’tmereconceit.Itispartofmydeepestnature.

Inthismirrorofadiary,Christopherrevealsafewfrankglimpsesofhimself.Therestisposing.

His instinct tostophimselfmoping,nomatterhow,wasahealthyone.Hismopingwasn’tofthesmallestusetoHeinz.Farbettertoindulgehisvanityasacelebrity or to entertain himselfwith other people’sworries by advising themabout their love troubles or their literary work—this is what he calls givingprotectionlikeatree.NevermindifhethusforgotHeinzaltogetherforanhouror two; the alternative was to play the unhealthy game of self-accusation, todwell on the past and ask himself unanswerable questions. For example:HadsomepartofhiswillconsentedtoHeinz’sarrest?Hadhishelplessbehavior,thatlastmorninginLuxembourg,concealedacolddecisiontoletthepolicesethimfree from Heinz and his problems? Those moments of mysterious joy whichcametohimsometimes—whydidtheymakehimfeelguilty?Wasn’titbecausethis joy was joy in his new freedom? And then there was that old persistingquestion: Should he ever have takenHeinz out ofGermany?WasHeinz nowcursinghimforthisinhisprisoncell?

(Fifteen years later, when Christopher next saw Heinz, in Berlin, Heinzassuredhim that hewouldn’t, for anything, havemissed their travels together.But Heinz was then speaking with the maturity and generosity of anextraordinarilyluckysurvivorwhohadservedintheGermanArmyonboththeRussianandtheWesternfrontsandcomeoutofthewarwithawholeskin.HealonehadtherighttoblameChristopher.Ithadneveroccurredtohimtodoso.)

*

Everybodywho knewChristopher and somewho had only read hiswork hadheard, by this time, about Heinz’s arrest. Christopher’s widowerhood lentglamour to his image. If Christopher had been parted from a wife, a fewsympatheticgirlswouldhavebeentouchedbyhisplightandaskedthemselves:“Couldn’t I make him happy again?” In Christopher’s case, the sympathizerswereyoungmenwhoasked thesamequestion.Heencouraged themall to try.Hepreferred tohave twoor threeaffairs runningconcurrently; in thatway,hefelt less involvedwith any particular individual. The youngmen didn’t resentthis;theywerenomoredeeplyinvolvedthanChristopher.Innearlyeverycase,theaffairwouldcome toanendwithouthard feelingsand leaveonlypleasantmemories.

ChristopherbroughtsomeoftheseyoungmentoKathleen’shouse.Kathleendescribesoneof them inherdiaryas“adear little thing,veryspruce,as ifhecameoutofabandbox,”andanotheras“anicelittlethingwithgentlemannersand a charming voice and interested in music and literature.” Despite thecondescensioninhertone,itisclearthatsheapproves.Shefindsthementirelysuitable for Christopher. They are gentlemen, not working-class; Englishmen,notundesirable aliens.Theycanbe reliedonnot to involvehim in scandalorundueexpense.

*

TowardtheendofNovember,ChristopherwasinvitedtojoinadelegationwhichwastovisitSpainanddeclarethesolidarityofleft-wingartistsandintellectualswith the Spanish government. Several well-known people, including JacobEpstein,RoseMacaulay,andPaulRobeson,hadalreadyacceptedtheinvitation.Christopherexplained thathewouldbeunable to joinbecausehewas startingforChinawithWystan in thenear future.But the ladywhohadorganized thedelegationsweptthisobjectionaside.Shewouldbeleavingalmostimmediately,shesaid,andonlystayingafewdays.ShewouldgethimbacktoEnglandwithplentyoftimetospare.

Wystanwas to be invited also.Christopherwanted to discuss the questionwith himbefore giving an answer.Hehated the prospect of group travelwithcelebratedcompanions,mostofthemstrangersandsomeprobablyegomaniacs.He expectedWystan to agree with him.Wystan did, but felt that he himselfought to go. SoChristopher said that of course hewould come too: “The oldwar-horsewillneveragaindesertitsmate.”

The ladyorganizerwasa forcefulcharacter.Shewas rumored tohavesentwhite feathers to several young men who had failed to volunteer for theInternational Brigade. She was certainly on the lookout for any lack of teamspirit among thedelegates.Atoneof theirmeetings, adelegate suggested thateachofthemshouldsaywhatitwasthatheorshewasmostinterestedinseeing,whiletheywereinSpain.Theorganizerinterruptedseverely:“Idon’tthinkweneedwasteanytimediscussingthat.Weallwanttogotothefront.”Whensheannouncedherplans for their transportation toBarcelona,RoseMacaulaysaidbrightly:“Youneedn’tbotheraboutme.I’lljustrundownthereinmylittlecar.”Theorganizergaveasnortofdisapprovalatsuchindividualismandofscornatthenotionthatyoucouldbehavelikeatouristwhenyouwereinatheaterofwar.

Christopher happened to mention that he would need TABC shots beforegoing to China. The organizer knew a distinguished biologist who was asupporteroftheUnitedFrontandwouldthereforeinoculatehimwithoutcharge.Christopher’sshotswouldbefired,sotospeak,inthebattleagainstFascism.

WhenIwentformyinoculationtoday,Dr.G.wasbusywithhiswhitemice.Hewastransplantingatumor.Thetumorisdissectedoutofadeadmouseandbitsofitareinsertedintolivingmicewithacannula.All themicewilldie.But ifyougraftedthesametumorontoanotherraceofmice—theblack ones—itwouldn’t grow.This particular tumorwas called “tumor 15” and it has been keptalivealreadyfortwoyears.

Christophersuspected that thehypodermicwithwhichhewas injectedwasalsousedonthemice;anyhow,thebiologistkeptitinthesamedrawerwiththecannula and with a big piece of chalk and a rag which he used to wipe theblackboardwhenlecturingtostudents.Butthiswasnotimeforsqueamishness—thiscriticalbutstillhopefulphaseoftheCivilWar:Teruelhadjustbeentaken

fromtherebels.Thebiologist’sdirtyuntidylabseemedmuchbettersuitedtothemoodofwartimeemergencythansomenicecleanclinic.

Christophernowbegantoassumetheairsofasoldierontheeveofdepartureforthefront.Thiswaschieflytoimpresshisyoungmen—someofwhomweredestinedforfarmoredangerousadventures,threeorfouryearslater.Theyweredulyimpressed.

Onenight,whenChristopherwaswithForsterandotherfriends,somebodytoldhimheoughttomakeawill.Apieceofpaperwasproduced.Christopher,rather drunk and enjoying this semi-heroic scene, scribbled a couple ofsentences, leavingeverything toKathleenandRichard.Forsterwasoneof thewitnessestothedocument.Afteritssigningwasover,hewasasked:“Whydon’tyougo toSpain,Morgan?”Hereplied:“Afraid to,” inhismildcheerfulvoice.HissimplicityrebukedChristopher’sposturing,butwithoutahintofmalice.

The Spanish government’s travel permits were delayed, however; so thedelegation’s departure date kept being postponed. At length, Wystan andChristopherdecidednot towaitany longer.Theyconfirmed theirbookingsforthevoyagetoChina.

I believe that the delegation did go to Spain eventually and that RoseMacaulaydidmanagetodriveallthewaydowntoBarcelonainherlittlecar.

*

The night beforeWystan and Christopher left, a goodbye party for themwasheld in a studio. Most of their friends were there. Hedli Anderson sang. Aconcertinawasplayed.Peopledanced.ForsterandBobBuckinghamenjoyedtheparty but thought the wine cup vile. There were strained relations betweencertain guests. I remember Brian Howard starting one of his fights with thewords, “I refuse to allow my friend to be insulted by the Worst Painter inLondon,”butIcan’trememberwhotheWorstPainterinLondonwas.

*

Nextmorning,January19,1938,WystanandChristopherleftontheboattrainforDover. Some of the daily newspapers had sent cameramen to record their

exit. Christopher grinned eagerly at the lenses and, in one pose, put his armroundWystan’sshoulder.Wystanlookednoncommittalandbored.

FIFTEEN

WystanandChristopherspentthenightofJanuary19inParis.TheysailedfromMarseilles two days later on theAramis, a ship of theMessageriesMaritimesline.

Theywereinthesecondclass,andtheyfoundtotheirdisgustthattheyhadbeengivenacabinwhichwasmuchtoosmallandhadn’tevenatabletowriteon.Wystandecided that theymust transfer to the firstclass,despite theaddedexpense.

However,justastheyweregoingintothepurser’sofficetoarrangethis,theywerehailedbyalargefatmanwithpeeringspectacles:“IsoneofyouAuden?”HeintroducedhimselfasanadmirerofAuden’spoetryandarubbermerchant.IwillcallhimMr.Potter.

Mr.Potterwasanobviouslyfirst-classfirst-classpassenger.Itpleasedhimtodisplay his authority. He spoke to the purser on their behalf and they werepromptlygiventwomuchlargersecond-classcabins,onetosleepin, theotherwithtwotablestowriteon,atnoextracharge.Ingratitudeforthisfavor,WystanandChristopherwillinglybecameMr.Potter’scaptiveaudience:

Heseeshimselfasadebunker,abuccaneer,asixteenth-centurypiratebornoutofhisepoch.Hetellshisco-directorsthatwhattheyneedisthespiritofthemerchant-adventurers.Hehatesthebanks.Hehatespubliccompanies,becausetheyaren’tallowedtotakerisks.HeparticularlyenjoysraggingthepompousU.S.A. businessmen. Somebody once cabled him fromNewYork: “Believemarket hastouched bottom.” Potter cabled back: “Whose?”At boardmeetings he lies on a sofa—ostensiblybecauseheoncehadabadleg;actuallybecausethispositiongiveshimamoraladvantage.Heandhiscolleagues telleachotherdirty limericksand theveryserious-mindedsecretary takes themalldowninshorthand—because,asheonceexplained,hethoughttheymightbeincode.

Much less willingly, Wystan and Christopher also became the captiveaudienceofayoungmanwithwhomtheyhadtosharetheirtableinthesecond-classdiningroom.Hewasarubberplanter,returningfromleaveinEnglandtoaplantationnearSingapore.IwillcallhimWhite.

Whiteshowedusphotos—meninshorts,withpipes;girlsinshorts,withnauseatinglyplumpknees.AnappallingatmosphereofsuburbanSurreyexudedfromthealbum.BetterfaceathousanddeathsinChinathanafortnightofplanters’hospitality.NothinghetellsusaboutMalayalessensourhorror.EveryonejoinstheTerritorialsandtherearetarantulas.(AsIwritethis,Whiteisdoinghisbest toannoyandinterruptmebypacingupanddowninfrontofmydeckchair.ImaginingthatI’mwritingastory,hesays:“Theirlipsmetinonelongkiss.”)

*

TheydockedatPortSaidonthemorningofJanuary25.Francis,whowasnowlivinginEgypt,camedownfromCairotomeettheship.Heseemedshakierandabitshrunkenbutessentiallyunchanged.

WystanandChristopherwereeagertoexplorePortSaid,beingstillunderthespellof its legendas the sexcapitalof theworld.Francisassured them that itwasdeadlydull.HesuggestedthattheyshoulddrivebackwithhimtoCairoandreembarkontheAramisearlynextmorningatPortTewfik,aftershehadpassedthroughtheSuezCanal.

Wystan and Christopher were disappointed in the pyramids. They lookedmessyandquitenew;likethetipheapsofaquarry,Wystansaid.Buttheywerestaggeredby theSphinx. It seemed so alive, sohorribly injured, somalign.Apassenger on theAramis had told them that the ancient Egyptiansmust havepsychicallyforeseenthefutureimportanceofAmericatotherestoftheworld;thatwaswhytheyhadplacedtheSphinxfacingwestward.Backontheship,afewdayslater,WystanwroteapoemwhichdeclaredthattheSphinxis“gazingfor ever towards shrill America.” But then both he and Christopher weretroubledbydoubts.DidtheSphinxfacewestward?Strangelyenough,neitherofthem could remember. Finally—after their return to London—Wystan askedsomeoneattheEgyptianembassy.Withtheresultthathisrevisedversionofthepoemreads:“Turning/avastbehindonshrillAmerica.”

InCairothatevening,theydrankwithFrancisatastreet-sidecafé.Everyfewmoments, boys would thrust sex postcards, bow ties, lottery tickets, ridingwhips,andclockworktrainsintotheirfaces;nowandthen,anofferedcarpetorcurtain would hide them from each other altogether and cut off theirconversation,despiteFrancis’sscreamsatthevendors.HebecamehisGreekself

again,exceptthatherehescreamedinArabic.Laterhetookthemtovisitafriendwhowasaprofessorattheuniversity.The

professortoldthemtaleaftertaleofEgyptiandishonesty,treachery,bribability,andself-sale.BothheandFrancisspokeofthecountry’scorruptionwithdisgust,but they would probably have been resentful if Wystan or Christopher hadcriticizedit.Egyptwasanaddictionwhichonlyaddictshadtherighttodespise.

WhentheysaidgoodbyetoFrancisthatnight,itwastobeforthelasttime.HediedinEgypt,in1942.

*

They steamed southward, heading for Djibouti, Colombo, Singapore, Saigon,and,ultimately,HongKong;headingforthewarmseassacredtoConradandtoMaugham,withdolphinsleapingbeforetheirbowsandsparksofphosphorusintheirwake.Wystanenduredthevoyageglumly,sometimesgrumpily;hedislikedbeingat sea,deplored the tropics, feltuprooted fromhischillybelovedNorth.ButChristopher,theplacesnob,foundanewenchantmentineachportofcall.HewasEastofSuez!

Meanwhile, theyhad frequent talkswithWhiteandwithMr.Potter.Whitehadnowconfessedtothemthathewashavinganaffairwiththewifeofafellowplanterwhowasaneighborandclosefriendofhis,inMalaya.ThewifehadtoldWhitethatshehadneverdreamedlovecouldbelikethis,“somethingwildanddangerous.” And White had discovered that she was his “complete physical,spiritual,andemotionalcounterpart.”Thehusbandsuspectednothing.Whitefeltlikeacad,buthecouldn’tgiveherup.“Ifanyoneweretotellme,‘Yououghtn’ttogoonseeingher,’”Whitesaid,“Ishouldscreamandsay,‘Don’tbesilly.’”

Whenaskedwhythetwoofthemdidn’trunawaytogether,Whiteexplainedthat theworldof rubberplantingconsistedonlyofMalayaandCeylon; itwasvery small—everybody knew everybody—and very strict. A man who stoleanotherman’swifewouldbecutdead;hewouldn’tbeabletoshowhisfaceinthecluborplayruggerortennisorgotodances.Hewouldbeobligedtogiveuphisjob.Andtherewasnowhereelseforaplantertogo.RubberplantingwasallWhitekneworcaredabout.HehatedtheprospectofreturningtoEnglandand

gettingsomeotheremployment.Hislifewouldberuinedandsowouldhers.WystanandChristopherwerenownolongerboredbyWhite.Hefascinated

them, because he had turned into aMaugham character.And they themselveshad become characters in his story, by introducing him toMr. Potter. ForMr.Potter had told them that hewas planning to start some rubber plantations inSiam;andthathewasonthelookoutforanexperiencedplanterwhowouldbepreparedtoleavehispresentjobandmanagehisplantationsforhim.

White and Mr. Potter henceforth met daily for deck games and bridge,throughouttherestoftheirtimeonboard.IfMr.Potterhadindeedofferedhimamanagership,Whitedidn’t tell them.But thismightbeduetodiscretion,oranunwillingnesstoadmit,eventohimself,thatthefutureofhisromancewasnowinhisownhands.HeandMr.PotterlefttheshiptogetheratSingapore…Hadthe impressionmadebyWystan’spoemsonMr.PotterstartedachainreactionwhichwouldendinWhite’slifelonghappiness?WystanandChristopherneverknew.

*

OnFebruary16,theyreachedHongKong.Bothofthemfoundthecityhideous—whichsurprisedmewhenIvisiteditin1957andthoughtitpicturesque,tosaythe least.ButnodoubtWystanandChristopherhadbeenexpectingsomethingpurely and romantically Oriental. They didn’t appreciate the clash ofarchitecturalstylesinthisVictorian-colonialfortress.

Theywere invited to formal dinner parties at which theymet governmentofficialsandmillionaires.Wystanwasnotcharmedbythefoodorthecompany.“The oxtail soupwasn’t oxtail,” hewrote. “Thewomenwere cows andworemermaiddresses;SirBlankBlank,asquatred-facedtoad,wasreputedtohavetheEighteenthCenturyMind.”Speaking of the Japanese invasion ofChina, abusinessmansaidtoChristopher:“Ofcourse,fromourpointofview,bothsidesare just natives.”A lady told him that a formerly respectedmember ofHongKongsocietyhadbeenseenfurtivelyeatingdogataChineserestaurantonthemainland,andthat thepetdogsownedbyherfriendskeptdisappearing.WhenWystanandChristophertriedtofindoutaboutthejourneywhichwasaheadof

them,theyweregiventhekindofadviceintendedtoscarenovices:NevermixwithaChinesecrowdoryou’llgettyphus.Nevergoforawalkbyyourselvesorthey’llshootyouasspies.

*

On February 28, they left Hong Kong by river boat for Canton. TheirwanderingsaroundChinaduringthenextthreeandahalfmonthsarerecordedinJourneytoaWar.HereareafewimpressionswhichcometomewhenItrytoresmell,retaste,rehear,andreseethatexperience:

Thesweetlyperfumedsmellof thedust—said tobepoisonousbecause thewind blew it from the family grave mounds which occupied part of everypeasant’sland;somepeopleworemaskstoprotectthemselvesfromit.Thetasteof two kinds of tea—either very faint, clear water with a pale green sprigfloating; or strongly fishy, dark brown. The pig squeal of wheelbarrows withunoiled wheels, “because the squeal is cheaper.” The clatter of mah-jonggplayers’tilesintheinnsatnight.Blue-cladfiguresdottedalloveralandscape—meninblue,womeninblue,childreninblue—whicheverwayyoulooked.Andsmiles,smilesallaroundyou—diditcostthemnoefforttokeeptheirmouthsinthatposition?Yourfaceachedfromsmilingback.

Despite somewild rides in chauffeured cars, I remember transportation asslowness.Slowtrains,dayslatealready,thatstoppedsuddenlyforhoursonend,thenrestartedsuddenlywithouttheslightestwarning;theywouldhaveleftyoustranded in the back of nowhere if you’d strayed too far away from them.Painfully slow hikes along cobbled roads as narrow as garden paths. Slowploddingthroughtherainonlittlefurryhorses.Slowcarefuldescentsincarryingchairsofnearlyverticalmountaintrails,whenevenyourownterrorwasinslowmotion. Being carried in chairs and pulled in rickshaws created a physicalrelationship which bothWystan and Christopher found indecent.Man has norighttomakesuchuseofmanpower,theysaid.Whentheirfeethurtsufficiently,they swallowed their scruples. On such occasions, the very toughness andwillingnessoftheircarriersandpullersshamedthem—allthemoreso,ifoneofthose lithe erect figures turned and showed, as sometimes happened, that the

youthfultrunksupportedanagedwrinkledface.

*

Whenthetwoofthemweretraveling,theycausedmuchcuriosityandlaughter.Wystan had a woolen cap and an immense shapeless topcoat, with carpetslipperstoappeasehiscorns.Christopherhadaberet,aturtlenecksweater,andoversizedridingbootswhichgavehimblisters.Wystandressedinthewaythatwasnaturaltohim.Christopherwasinmasqueradeasawarcorrespondent.

Hemayhave looked thepart—correspondentscanbeabit absurd—buthemustoftenhavebetrayedhisamateurstatusbyhisnervousness.Thethreatofairraidskepthimkeyedup,especiallywhenhewasonatrain.Iftheywereorderedto leave it and take cover, he couldn’t restrain himself fromhurrying.Wystanneverhurried.AtTungkwan,when their trainhad topassaplacewhere someJapanese guns were mounted on the opposite side of the Yellow River,Christopher was the one who took precautions; he insisted on opening thewindowlestitsglassshouldbeblowninbyanexplosion.

Christopherwasalwaysmoreapttobetroubledbythethreatofdangerthanbydangeritself.Whenhefirstsawanairraid,hefeltaweratherthanfear—awefollowed by exhilaration. Hewas awed by being in the presence of absolute,impersonalhostility.Theseplaneshadcomesimplytodestroy.

Thesearchlights criss-crossedand suddenly there theywere, flyingclose togetherandhighup. Itwasasifamicroscopehadbroughtintofocusthebacilliofafataldisease.

Then, as the antiaircraft guns crashed out, the tracer bullets shot upward,buildingsflamed,andthepunchingconcussionsofthebombsmadeChristophercatchhisbreath,hewasawareonlyofaviolentphysicalexcitement;“somethinginsidemewasflappingaboutlikeafish.”Hedescribesthespectacleas“wrong,aninsulttoNature”butadmitsthatitwasalso“astremendousasBeethoven.”

Onsuchoccasions,Wystanwouldsay:“Nothing’sgoingtohappen,Iknowitwon’t, nothing like that ever happens tome.” His bland irrational assuranceirritated Christopher. Yet Christopher did find an equally irrational sense of

safety in their being together.Their relationship seemedat all timesmore realthan their surroundings—this country and thiswar. Somuch so that he couldalmostimaginetheywereinvulnerable—justasMartiansaresometimessaidtobe,intalesabouttheirvisitstoourworld.

*

Werethetwoofthemeverinseriousdangerofbeingkilled?Twoorthreetimes,perhaps.Ashellmight justpossiblyhavehit theircompartmentwhen the trainwas passing Tungkwan; the Japanese often fired on the trains, though theyseldom did them much damage. Then there was a daytime air battle overHankow whichWystan and Christopher watched lying on their backs on thelawnof theBritishconsulate. (ThiswasWystan’s idea, toavoidgettinga stiffneck.)During thebattle, somesortofmissiledidhit thegroundquiteclose tothem.Andthentherewastheirvisit tothefront,atHanChwang.TheChinesestarted tobombard theJapanese linesandtheJapanesefiredback.WystanandChristopherweretoldbytheirhoststhattheymustleave.Astheywerecrossinga largeempty field, justbehind the trenches, several Japaneseplanesappearedand circled low overhead. The soldier who was escorting Wystan andChristopher urged them to lie down, although there was absolutely no cover.TheywerenowsubjecttothewhimoftheJapanesepilotsandmightwellhavebeenmachine-gunned.ButallthathappenedwasthatWystantookphotographs,telling Christopher: “You look wonderful, with your great nose cleaving thesummerair.”Afterwhichheshuffledhiscarpetslippersimpatiently,wantingtoignoretheplanesandhurryontothevillagewheretheirlunchwaswaiting.

*

ThisChinese journeywas the longest continuous confrontationwhichWystanandChristopherwereevertohaveinthecourseoftheirlives.Heretheywere,nakedlyexposedtoeachother,dayafterday.Buttheyonlybecameconsciousofthiswhentherewasfrictionbetweenthem.

Wystan accused Christopher of sulking whenever his will was crossed.Christopher’sdespotismandsulks sometimes irritatedWystan.Butmoreoften

heenduredthemgood-naturedlyandwithhumor,ashehadbeenenduringthemforyears:

Whoisthatfunny-lookingyoungman,sosquatwithatop-heavyhead,Acrossbetweenacavalrymajorandaratherprimlandlady,Sittingtheresippingacigarette?Ifabsolutelythewholeuniversefailstobowtoyourcommand,Howyoustampyourbrightlittleshoe,Howyoupout,House-proudoldlandlady.AttimesIcouldshakeyou.

(Theseareextractsfromapoem—basicallyaffectionateintone—whichWystanhadwritteninabookhegaveChristopher,theyearbefore.ThebookwasD.H.Lawrence’sBirds,BeastsandFlowers;henceWystan’simitationofLawrence’sstyle.)

WystanwaswellawareofthesinistersideofChristopher’scharacter,andhedidn’tdenythatitfascinatedhimmorethanitrepelledhim.Christopherwritesthat“Wystanoncetoldme,almostadmiringly,thatIwasthecruellestandmostunscrupulouspersonhehadevermet.”ItseemstomethatWystanwasincapableof cruelty but that he had a streak ofmasochism in himwhich could invite itfromothers.

AftertheirreturntoEngland,Christopherwroteinhisdiary:

In China I sometimes found myself really hating him—hating his pedantic insistence on“objectivity,”whichwasreallyareactionfrommyownwoolly-mindedness.Iwasmeanlyjealousofhim, too. Jealous of his share of the limelight; jealous because he’ll no longer play the role ofdependent,admiringyoungerbrother.Indeed,IgotsuchaphysicaldislikeofhimthatIdeliberatelywilledhimtogetill;whichhedid.

Then,inNewYorkandontheAtlanticcrossing,wehadtheseextraordinaryscenes—Wystanintears,tellingmethatnoonewouldeverlovehim,thathewouldneverhavemysexualsuccess.Thatflatteredmyvanity;butstillmysadismwasn’tappeased.Andactually—believeitornot—whenwegotbacktoEnglandIwouldn’thavehimtostaythenight,becauseIwasjealousofhimandwantedtostagetheReturningHeroactallbymyself…Ofcourse,I’mwellawarethat theseconfessionssound farworse than they are.Myessential feeling forWystan is untouchedby all this, andwillremainso.

MostoftheirargumentsinChinaweregameswhichtheyplayedwitheachother, to pass the time. Itwas onlywhen they got ontometaphysics that theyceased to be playful. Then Christopher’s “woolly-mindedness” clashed withWystan’s “pedantic objectivity,” as Christopher declared passionately that heknewhehadn’tgotasoul.

AccordingtoChristopher’sdiary:

ThemoreIthinkaboutmyself,themoreI’mpersuadedthat,asaperson,Ireallydon’texist.ThatisoneofthereasonswhyIcan’tbelieveinanyorthodoxreligion:Icannotbelieveinmyownsoul.No,Iamachemicalcompound,conditionedbyenvironmentandeducation.My“character”issimplyarepertoireofacquiredtricks,myconversationarepertoireofadaptationsandechoes,my“feelings”aredictatedbypurelyphysical,externalstimuli.

Christopher did well to call himself woolly-minded. All he has actuallystatedhereisthathecan’tbelieveinhisownindividualityassomethingabsoluteandeternal; theword“soul” is introduced,quite improperly,asa synonymfor“person.”

Ayear later,whenChristopherwas inCalifornia,hewouldhave longtalksonthissubjectwithGeraldHeard.(GeraldHeardandChrisWood,togetherwithAldousandMariaHuxley,hadleftEnglandfortheStatesinApril1937.)Astheresultofhis talkswithGeraldandwithGerald’s friendand teacher, theHindumonk Prabhavananda, Christopher would find himself able to believe—as apossibility,atleast—thataneternalimpersonalpresence(callit“thesoul”ifyoulike) exists within all creatures and is other than the mutable non-eternal“person.” He would then feel that all his earlier difficulties had been merelysemantic;thathecouldhavebeenconvertedtothisbeliefatanytimeinhislife,ifonlysomeonehadusedtherightwordstoexplainittohim.Now,Idoubtthis.Idoubtifoneeveracceptsabeliefuntiloneurgentlyneedsit.

But,althoughChristopherwasn’tyetawarethatheneededsuchabelief,hemayhavebeenfeelingtheneedsubconsciously.Thiswouldexplainhisrecentlyincreased hostility toward what he thought of as “religion”—the version ofChristianityhehadbeentaughtinhischildhood.Perhapshewasafraidthathewouldbeforcedtoacceptit,atlast,afternearlyfifteenyearsofatheism.

When Christopher raged against religion, Wystan would laugh and say,“Careful, careful,mydear—ifyoukeepgoingon like that,you’llhavesuchaconversion, one of these days!” If Christopher did indeed hate Wystan atmoments,itwasbecauseofthesmugnessofWystan’sChristiandogmatism.

During their arguments, Christopher sometimes invoked the example ofForster:Morgan,hesaid,wasincapableofhavinganytruckwith“suchFascistfilth.” I wonder, now, if Wystan then believed what he stated in a letter toChristophermanyyears later, inexplanationofForster’sdeclaredagnosticism:“AsIseehim,MorganisapersonwhoissoaccustomedtothePresenceofGodthatheisunawareofit;hehasneverknownwhatitfeelslikewhenthatPresenceiswithdrawn.” IfWystan did already believe this in 1938, hewisely kept hismouthshut.IcanimaginetheyellofprotestChristopherwouldhaveuttered,onhearingsuchanoutrageousaccusationagainsthisMaster.

*

OnMay 25, they reached Shanghai. This was the last stop on their Chinesejourney.TheyhadbeeninvitedbytheBritishambassador,SirArchibaldClark-Kerr,andhiswife,tostayattheirhouseintheInternationalSettlement.Thefourof them had firstmet inHongKong and again inHankow.Archiewas a bighandsomehumorousScot,apipesmokerwithacollectionofthirty-twopipestochoose from. Tita Clark-Kerr was a beautiful tiny blond Chilean, who readdetectivestories.

The house, with its columns and clipped lawns, its vases and lacqueredscreens,itsChineseservantsinlemonsilkjackets,waseveryinchaResidence.Archie andTita didn’t even pretend to feel at home in it. Their daytime liveswerelivedalmostentirelyinpublic,passingfromonediplomaticorsocialdutyto another,whilemany sharp eyes and ears interpreted their least gesture andlightest word. No doubt, it gave them some slight relaxation to entertain twoguests who weren’t official personages. Archie referred to Wystan andChristopherasthePoets,andthePoetsdidtheirbesttoreciprocatebybehavingaspoeticallyasgoodmannerspermitted.Still,itwasastrain.And,alltoooften,when they had got Archie to themselves in his study and were laughing and

joking, a secretarywould enter to announce that it was time he left for someconference.Thenthetalldoorswouldbethrownopen,anorderwouldbebarkedout,theguardonthestaircaseoutsidewouldcrashtoattention,andArchie,nowHisExcellency,wouldslowly,gravelydescendthestairs.Beforetheirveryeyes,hebecametheBritishEmpire.

WithintheInternationalSettlement,thetwoextremesofthehumanconditionalmost touchedeachother.Herewere themansionsand thebanks, theelegantshops,theluxuryrestaurants,andthenightclubatthetopofatower,fromwhichguestshadwatchedtheJapaneseattackontheoutercity,afewmonthsearlier.Andhereweretherefugeecampsandthedozensoffactoriesinwhichchildrenwere being literally worked to death by their employers. The refugees werepackedintohutswith triple tiersofshelves:oneshelfforeachfamily tocook,eat,andsleepon.TheperimeteroftheSettlementwasguardedbyamixedforceofforeigntroops,confrontingtheJapanesetroopswhoguardedtheirconqueredterritoryofdesertedruins.

All this Wystan and Christopher dutifully inspected, described,photographed. They had seen ugly sights during their Chinese journey—wounded soldiers stranded at railway stations, without medical aid, some ofthemstinkingofgasgangrene;mutilatedcorpsesafteranairraid.ButmiseryinShanghai seemed more miserable than elsewhere, because its victims weretrapped between their Western or Chinese exploiters and their Japaneseconquerors,withoutanyapparenthopeofescape.

Towardtheendoftheirvisit,WystanandChristopherbegantakingafternoonholidaysfromtheirsocialconsciencesinabathhousewhereyouwereeroticallysoapedandmassagedbyyoungmen.Youcouldpickyourattendants,andmanyof themwerebeautiful.Thosewhowere temporarily disengagedwouldwatchtheaction,withgiggles,throughpeepholesinthewallsofthebathrooms.Whatmadetheexperiencepleasinglyexoticwas that teawasserved to thecustomerthroughout;eveninthemidstofanembrace,theattendantwoulddisengageonehand,pouracupful, and raise it, tenderlybut firmly, to thecustomer’s lips. Ifyourefusedtheteaatfirst,theattendantwentonofferingituntilyouaccepted.Itwaslikeasexfantasyinwhichanakednursemakeslovetothepatientbutstill

insistsongivinghimhismedicinepunctually,attherequiredintervals.Every evening, when they met Archie and Tita for pre-dinner cocktails,

Archiewouldaskwhattheyhadbeendoingthatafternoon.Iftheyhadbeentothebathhouse,theyhadtoinventsomething.Archieacceptedtheirlieswithoutcomment,butacertaingleaminhiseyemadethemwonderifhewasplayingagamewiththem.Probably,theysaidtoeachother,theywerefollowedwheneverthey went out, as a routine security measure, and a police report of theirmovementswasplacedonArchie’sdesk.Ofonethingtheyfeltcertain:ifArchiedidknowaboutthebathhouse,hewouldn’tbeintheleastshocked.

*

WystanandChristopherhaddeliberatelykepttheirtravelplansvague,choosingone route rather than another as local circumstances suggested. Having nowdecidedthattheywantedtoreturntoEnglandbywayofNewYork,theywenttotheU.S.authoritiesinShanghaitoaskfortransitvisas.Itneveroccurredtothemthattheywouldhavetheleastdifficultyingettingthese.

Butitsohappenedthattheofficialondutythatdaywasinabadhumor.HehadjustbeenharassedbyanobstinateflockofWhiteRussianswhowantedtoemigrate to theStatesandwouldn’t takenyet forananswer.Havingdismissedthemwithunderstandablebutunnecessarybrusqueness,heturnedimpatientlytoWystan andChristopher. They told him their business.He answered that theyshould have applied for the visas in England before they started. Could theyprove to him that it was absolutely necessary for them to pass through NewYork?No?Thenlet themcrossCanadaandsailhomefromHalifax,asBritishsubjectsshould.

As they turned to leave, frustrated and furious, the official ungraciouslyasked themwhat theywere doing in Shanghai. Perhaps he suspected them ofbeing undesirables who should be deported from the Settlement. Delighted atthischancetohitbackathim,theyreplieddemurely:“StayingwiththeBritishambassador.”

Tableau.Theofficial’smannerchangedwithindecentsuddenness.Theyweregranted special visaswhich allowed them to visit theStates asmany times as

theycaredto,duringthenexttwelvemonths.

*

The ship onwhich theywere to cross the Pacificwould call at three ports inJapan. So now they were about to visit what they had come to regard as anenemycountry.InChina,theJapanesehadbeentheEnemy,thebombdroppers,and as such non-human. They had seen only two at close quarters, as humanbeings—both of them prisoners.Onewas a loutish, pathetically scared youth,tiedupwithropelikeaparcel.Alltheycoulddoforhimwastoputacigarettebetweenhislips.Theotherwasanex-schoolmasterwhoansweredquestionsinEnglishwithasadnaturaldignity.

Then,intheInternationalSettlement,theytalkedtoadelegationofJapanesecivilians,onaso-calledfact-findingmission.Thesewereeithertheblandestofhypocrites or the most childish of wishful thinkers. They declared that theylovedtheChinesepeopleandfeltabsolutelynobitternesstowardthem.Thiswarwassuchapity;itcouldhavebeenavoidedsoeasily,Japan’sdemandswereveryreasonable.TheyhopedthatWystanandChristopherhadhadnoinconveniencewhiletraveling.“Onlyfromyouraeroplanes,”Christopheranswered,andgotaseeminglyheartylaugh.

*

They sailed from Shanghai on June 12. Their Canadian Pacific liner wascomfortable and old-fashioned, with an open coal-burning fireplace in thelounge.HernameevokedthedaysofVictorianimperialmegalomania:EmpressofAsia.

Two days later, they saw their first seaport on the Japanese coast.Christopher’s immediate reaction was to exclaim: “Ibsen!” The psychologicalclimateof the little town seemedScandinavian; it looked so sad anddrab andclean.Thetemple in itsparkmadehimthinkofamunicipaloffice.HemissedChina’sgaudydirtypicturesqueness.ThiswasNagasaki,sevenyearsbeforetheatomicbomb.

InKobe,alltheshopswerelightedbutthestreetlampsweren’t—incaseof

air raids, they were told. But surely the Chinese were incapable of bombingJapan? The precaution seemed absurd; perhaps it was actually an attempt toencourageJapanesewar-mindedness.

OnthetraintoTokyo,thecarporterannoyedWystanbyflickingcontinuallyaroundhisfeetwithbrushanddustpan,collectinghiscigaretteash.Thiswasavicious circle, since Wystan kept dropping it, out of more or less deliberateaggression.TheywereluckyenoughtogetacalmingglimpseofbenignMountFuji litby the setting sun,before thenightcloudsclosedaround it.But,whentheyarrivedinTokyo:

Aravingscreamingmobwithbannerswasseeinga trooptrainoutof thestationto thefront.ThesightsoshockedpoorWystanthathedroppedandbrokehisonlypairofglasses,andsowilltravelblindtoNewYork.[Wystan,beingnearsighted,wouldstillbeabletoread,however.]

TheyspentthenightofJune17–18attheImperialHotel.IhaveamemoryconnectedwiththiswhichIsuspect.Itisn’trecordedinChristopher’sdiaryanditisrathertoosymbolictobestrictlytrue:

WhileChristopherissittingwaitingforWystaninthelobbyofthehotel,nextmorning,hewitnessesaceremoniousmeetingbetweentwoofficersinuniform,aNaziandaJapanese—theBerlin–TokyoAxispersonified.TheyexchangeNazisalutes,thenbowJapanese-style,thenshakehands.Theyarestandingbeneathabigchandelier;and,astheygreeteachother,thechandelierbeginstosway.ItisChristopher’sfirst,veryslight,earthquake.

That afternoon, they sailed from Yokohama, bound for Vancouver.Christopherhadneverbeforeseen thefarewell ritualof throwingoneendofapaper streamer from the ship to the shore, thus linkingyourself for a few lastmoments with someone you are leaving behind. As the ship began to move,Christopher suddenly imagined Heinz standing down there on the dock, thestreamer pulling tight between them, then snapping … The experience wasalmostphysicallypainful.

*

TheNorthPacificwascold,evennowatmidsummer,andverycalm.Theygot

glimpsesoftheAleutianIslands.Beyondthese,therewasapalefrorebrightnessin the skywhich suggested the gleamof the icecap.Somebodydiedonboardand was buried at sea. I remember flowers being scattered at the end of theceremony—happy-landingflowerscollectedfromthestaterooms,alreadyfaded.Theyfloatedawaybehindtheship,onthesmoothgraysurfaceofthewater,farfartowestward.Theywereoutofsightbeforetheysank.

This eventless ten-day voyage was an ideal opportunity for physical andmental convalescence. Both Wystan and Christopher had suffered fromdysentery throughout their journey. While they were staying with the Clark-Kerrs,Christopher’s stomach crampshadoncemadehim roll on the bedroomfloor grunting with pain and jerking his body like an opening and shuttingjackknife. Later, inEngland, hewas told by the doctor that his intestines stillretainedsouvenirsofChina,atleasttwentykindsofinternalparasite.

Themental souvenirwas odder than these. For somemonths after leavingChina, he had a recurrent dream of being in an air raid. But the air raid—orwhatever it represented—was always pleasantly exciting, never terrifying.Withoutbeingabletointerpretthisdreamexactly,hebecameawarethathehadnowlostmuchofhisneuroticfearof“War”asaconcept.Averylittleexposuretodangerwill go a longway, psychologically; hehad learned from it that hisfearinChinahadbeenahealthyfearwhichheneedn’tbeashamedof.Henownolongerdreadedthathewouldbehaveworsethanmostotherpeopleinacrisis,thoughhedidn’texpect tobehavebetter.Thisself-knowledgewould influencehis future decisions,making him less inclined to worry how theworldmightjudgethem.

*

TheentrancetoVancouverharborwassuperb;andtheimmigrationofficialsaid,“WelcometoCanada!”ToChristopher,whohadcometoregardallsuchofficialsin Europe as his natural enemies, this formal tourist-conscious greeting had acheeringnovelty; theNewWorld seemed full of goodwill.And theCanadianPacific trainobligingly stopped to let themstroll aroundandadmire theGreatDivide and Lake Louise. The countrywas vast, magnificent, cold, clean, and

empty, yet with a reassuring Scottish snugness of oatmeal, cream, richwholesomefood.

Then down into the United States at Portal, North Dakota—a dismayingcontrast.Thehotshabbyprairiewasblowingitselfawayincloudsofdust.Andtheprices in thediningcarshockedthem.Driving throughChicagoafterdark,theyhopedforglimpsesofgangstersbutwereshownonlyaflowershopwhichhadsuppliedwreathsfortheirfunerals.OnthelastlegoftheridetoNewYork,thelandscapebecamestatelywithcliffsandthebroadeningHudson.ThentheyarrivedandfoundthemselvesinastationbuiltlikeanoversizedRomantemple.Wystansaid,“Weoughttobewearingtogas.”

Waiting to greet themwas George Davis, novelist and literary editor of afashionmagazineandtheirfriendalready;theyhadmethiminLondontheyearbefore. Small, plump, handsome, sparkling, he gaily stuffed into their pocketsthewadsofdollarbillshehadearnedforthembysellingtheirtravelarticlestohisownmagazineandothers.Utterlyattheirdisposalashost,guide,andfulfillerof all their desires, he was there to make them feel that New York was atheatricalperformancestagedexpresslyforthemandthateverybodyinthiscityhadbeenyearningfor theirarrival.Henever left themfor long throughout theninedays’wonderoftheirvisit.

George’s showmanship created a delirium of impressions. The RainbowRoom,balancedonafountainjetoflightsshotskyward,sixty-fivestorieshigh.(PerhapsitwastherethatChristopherfirstheard,“Jeepers,creepers,where’dyagetthosepeepers?”whichwouldbecomeasmagicforhimasthelong-agosongsofBerlin,whenhehadfoundaboytodedicateitto.)MaxineSullivaninHarlemswing-singing “Loch Lomond” into a live darkness of black faces and whiteeyeballs.Coney Islandon theFourthof July, crammed to thewater’s edge.ABowerydivewhere a fightbrokeout and thebartendervaulted thebarwith aclubandtheywerehurriedawayasthepolicedroveupwithscreamingsirens.(Georgeapologizedprofusely,sayinghe’dneverknownsuchathingtohappentherebefore.ButWystanandChristophertookitallforgranted;itwasexactlywhatthemovieshadtaughtthemtoexpectofNewYork.)

Theywere interviewed and photographed. Theywere taken to parties and

introducedtocelebrities:MaxwellAnderson,MurielDraper,OrsonWelles,KurtWeillandhiswife,LotteLenya (whomGeorgewould latermarry).They tookBenzedrine everymorning to give them energy for these encounters, Seconalevery night to make them sleep. Wystan later made the use of uppers anddownerspartofhisroutine;hecalledit“thechemicallife.”

Georgealsoofferedtomakesexualintroductionsforthem.“Allright,”saidChristopher,halfinjoke.“Iwanttomeetabeautifulblondboy,abouteighteen,intelligent, with very sexy legs.” Such a boy was instantly produced; he wasalmosttoosuitabletobetrue.IwillcallhimVernon.

Christopher reacted toVernonmuchashehad reacted toBubi,onhis firstBerlin visit. Both were infatuations based on a fantasy; only, this time,Christopher was looking for the American, not the German, Boy. The earlierinfatuationhadbeenstrongerbutlessserious,andithadowedagreatdealofitsstrengthtodifficultyincommunication.Thistimetherewasnolanguagebarrieranda lotmorefor the twoof themto talkabout;Vernonreallywas intelligentandeagertoeducatehimself.Hewasalsogood-natured,tough,andindependent.Heradiatedhealthandphysicalenergy.Comparinghimwiththoseexquisitebutremote, almost otherworldly-looking attendants at the Shanghai bathhouse,Christopherfoundhimwonderfullyhuman-smelling,muscular,hairy,earthy.

Vernon himself certainly wasn’t infatuated, but I think he was attracted.Christopher, at that particularmoment, could easily be regarded as a romanticfigure,justreturnedfromdangerousexoticadventuresandworthyofthisyoungcitydweller’sadmirationandenvy.

Vernon was tired of New York and longed to leave it; Christopher, whowould be forced to leave it within a few days, had fallen under its spell.However, its spell was now largely Vernon’s, the American Boy’s. TheAmericanBoyisalsotheWaltWhitmanBoy.AndtheWaltWhitmanBoyis,bydefinition,awanderer.SoChristopherfounditnaturaltoindulgeindaydreamsofafuturewander-comradeshipwithVernonintheWhitmantradition:

Wetwoboystogetherclinging,Onetheotherneverleaving,Upanddowntheroadsgoing,Northand

Southexcursionsmaking…

Audenhasleftitonrecord,inaninterviewgiventotheBBCmanyyearslater,thatitwasduringthisfirstvisittoNewYorkthatheandChristopherdecidedtoreturnandsettleintheStatesforgood:

IwouldsaythatIfeltthesituationinEnglandformewasbecomingimpossible.Icouldn’tgrowup.ThatEnglishlife…isformeafamilylife,andIlovemyfamilybutIdon’twanttolivewiththem.

Idon’trememberthatChristopherwassopositiveinmakinguphismindtoemigrate, at that time. But then, Christopher’s feelings about England weredifferentfromWystan’s.Hedidn’tthinkofEnglandashisfamily.And,muchashewasoftenable toenjoyhimself there,hecontinued to feel theoldhostility.For him, it was still the land of the Others. And in rejecting Heinz, it hadrejectedhimtoo.

(NotuntilaftertheSecondWar,whenEnglandhadceasedtobeimperialandhad become a minor power with a cosmopolitan population, did Christopherbegintoloveit,forthefirsttimeinhislife.Ithadturnedintothekindofcountryhehadalwayswantedittobe.)

Besides, Christopher hadmoved, or beenmoved, around somuch alreadythat another change of countrywould have far less emotional significance forhim than itwould have forWystan. So itwas forWystan to decide.His ownattitudewas passive. IfWystan chose to emigrate, then hewould too.Despitetheiroccasionalfrictions,hefeltclosertoWystanthanever.Whilenearlyallofhis other friends were gradually withdrawing from him, into long-termrelationships or careers or both, life seemed to be binding the two of themtogether.

SIXTEEN

WystanandChristophergotbacktoLondononJuly17—tofindthatthiswastheevening when Beatrix Lehmann would give a one-night-only performance ofCocteau’sLaVoixHumaine. (In theEnglish-languageproductionbytheGroupTheatre, it was called The Telephone.) They were lucky indeed not to havemissed this—it was one of her most daringly imaginative stage images.TransformingherselfintoasortofLaocoön,shemadethetelephonecordseemtowrithearoundherbodylikeaserpentofjealousywhichwouldendbykillingher.WhenChristophertalkedtoherafterwards,shetoldhimthatshehadcaughtsightof them in themiddleof theperformance.Shehad supposed them tobestillinChina,andthejoyfulshockhadnearlystartledheroutofhercharacter.

*

Toward the end of July,Christopherwent to staywith JohnLehmann and hismother atTotlandBayon the Isle ofWight.Thiswas a placeof nostalgia forJohn,whohadspenthisholidaysthereasachild,andforChristopher,whohadworkedonAlltheConspiratorsatnearbyFreshwaterBayandbeenvisitedtherebyEdwardandWystanandHectorWintle.ThelandscapeofthePastremainedalmostunaltered,withitssmellsofseasaltandpinesandsunburnedturf.ButthePresent was already within the shadow of the immediate Future, in which ashowdownwithHitleroverCzechoslovakiawassurelyunavoidable.

*

DuringAugust,ChristopherwasinOstendeandinDover.Hewent toOstendewithJimmyYounger.Thetwoofthemhadstartedaduetoftheirownwhichwasindependent ofChristopher’s friendshipwith Stephen.Memory of their life atSintrahaddrawnthemtogether.ItwasimportanttobothofthemthatJimmyhadknown Heinz, had even had sex with him on one occasion. But Jimmy andChristophereachdeclaredthattheotherhadchangedforthebetter,sincethosedays. Jimmy admitted that he had sometimes hated Christopher. Christopher

remembered how, in his diary, he had viciously referred to “Jimmy’s primly-composed rabbit-mouth and the thick inflamednape of his neck.”Christophernowfoundhimdesirableaswellascompanionable.Theymadeloveoften,withthewarmthoffriendlyaffection.

*

AtDoverwereForster,BobandMayBuckinghamand their small sonRobin,Cuthbert Worsley, Joe Ackerley, William Plomer. I have the snapshotsChristopher tookof them, then.Itseemspoignant tome,now, that theyareallsmiling,underthatgrowingwarthreatofwhichtheymustall,exceptRobin,becontinuallyaware.Butdoesn’tonealwayssmilewhenone isphotographedonholiday?

Forster, as sooften,hasanairofbeingamused in spiteofhimself.Bob isgainingweightandgrinsasifheknowsthisanddoesn’tcare.May,withherhairsmoothlikeaMadonna’s,smilesdemurely;youwouldneverguessthatshecandrink and tell dirty stories. Robin has Bob’s grin and looks exactly like him.(When Christopher saw the Buckinghams for the first time after the war, in1947,Bob toldhowfunnyMayhad looked,beingblowndown thepassageoftheirhouseby theblastofabomb.Andbothof themroaredwith laughter, asthough theywere actuallywatching her in this undignified situation.Bob hadbeendecoratedforhisbraveryduringtheBlitz.)

CuthbertWorsley,abigblondbespectacledathlete,smilesmorebroadlythananyofthem.Butitisasmileofintelligentcourage,notoftheoptimismofmeregood health. He has already seen what war is like, while serving with anambulance unit in Spain. JoeAckerley smiles enigmatically, by simply baringhisteetharoundthemouthpieceofhispipe.HehasfoughtinWorldWarIandbeenwoundedandtakenprisonerbytheGermans.Atforty-two,heisoneofthehandsomest men of his generation and one of its most obstinate pessimists.When he talks, his gloom has such charm that it cheers up everybody excepthimself.Hethinksthatlifeisaltogethervile.

WilliamPlomeristheonlyonewhomaypossiblyagreewithAckerley;butthereisnowayofknowingthis.Uponthesurface,asalways,heisfulloffun.

In the rooms he rents here every summer, there are Victorian landscapepaintings,withhouses,trees,andafewcows.Orrather,thatwashowtheyusedto be. Lately, some small figures, painted perfectly to scale, have begun toappear in thebackgroundamongst the trees,or lookingoutof thewindowsofthehouses.Williamintroducesthemintothepictureswithlovingcare;thereisnever a clash of colors or a brushstroke which calls attention to itself. Thesetrespassers are so discreet that you scarcely notice them. If the landlady hasnoticed,shehasneversaidanythingaboutthemtoWilliam.

*

WhenChristopher returned toLondon after this holiday, he decided to keep arecordofthecrisis:

ThesituationissoseriousthatImustforcemyselftobeinterestedaswellasmerelyhorrifiedbyit.

Beginning on August 20, he made fairly regular entries in his diary, rightthrough to the end of September. (They are quoted from extensively inDownThereonaVisit.)

These entries are actually more often about Christopher than about thepoliticalsituation.Hisdiary-keepingwasadisciplinedesignedtoshamehimselfout of giving way to panic-depression, sloth, overdrinking, oversmoking,masturbation, and nervous pottering around. Another such discipline was hiswork on the prose section of Journey to a War. This would have been hardenough at any time.Transcribing the travel diary kept byWystan and himselfwasboringtoil,butithadtobedonebeforehecouldeditandrewritethediaryas a coherent narrative.And,whenever hiswillweakened, therewas an innersaboteur voicewhich asked: “What’s the use of all this?Who’llwant to readaboutyourfarawayout-of-datewarwhenthebombsstartfallingonLondon?”

Onhisdaysofweakness,Christopherthoughtofthecrisisasajealousgodwhichdemandedhistotalattentionandwasangeredbyhiseffortstowork.Heboughtnewspapersinasuperstitiousattempttoappeasethegod,feelingthatthenewswouldgetworseifhemissedonesingleedition;buthebarelyglancedat

theirheadlinesbeforethrowingthemaway.

*

ThecrisismadeHeinzseemmoreremote,althoughhecontinuedtowritelettersandalthoughJohnLehmannhadjustbroughtbackafirst-handaccountofhim.JohnhadgonetoBerlintovisitHeinz;hewasnowworkingoffhisyearoflaborservice,helpingputupabuildingonthePotsdamerplatz.Johnreportedthatheappeared to be much tougher and more politically conscious than before hisreturn toGermany.Thisglimpseofanewself-reliantHeinzwas inspiring,butChristopherwasn’tcomfortedby it.He thoughthowhopelessly isolatedHeinzmustbefeeling,inthemidstofhisNazicountrymen…ButHeinz,afterallhismisfortunes,wastobemarvelouslyfortunate.Notlongafterthis,hewouldmeetsomeonehecouldloveandconfidein—thegirlhewouldeventuallymarry.

*

Christopher thought of Vernon, too. Vernon seemed even more remote thanHeinz.HewasacitizenoftheNewWorldwhichChristopherhadbeguntohopemightbethehomelandhehadfailedtofindinGermany.ButwouldheeverseeVernonorNewYorkagain?Thecrisisseemedmoreandmorelikely toendinwar, and he couldn’t leave Englandwhile it continued. Patriotism?Definitelynot.Thiswaslargelyapathy.Hefeltpossessedbythecrisis.Ithadbecomehisworld.Hecouldn’timaginehimselflivingelsewhere,outsideit.

Christopher had his worst moments of depression when he was with theweak.Inordinarylife,heenjoyedtheircompany;theymadehimfeelprotective,especiallywhentheywerecharmingandyoung.Butnowheneededtobewiththestrong.Allhisclosefriendshadstrengthofsomekindandcouldtransmitittohim.

Edward and Hilda Upward, Olive Mangeot, and Jean Ross drew strengthfromtheirMarxism.Theywereabletoseethecrisiscalmlyandideologicallyasonephaseofanevolvingsituation,whichmightfurther theircause.Therefore,thoughtheyhatedandfearedtheprospectofwar,theycouldn’tbehypnotizedbyitintohelplessness.

BeatrixLehmannhadtobestrong;itwasanecessityofherlifeasanactress.She was constantly being forced to rise to occasions, deal with emergencies,become greater than herself.Warmight present itself to her as a new kind ofemergency,anairraidduringoneofherperformances.Shewoulddealwiththat,too.Inherhumorousway,shewasheroic.

HectorWintleandRobertMoody(Lee,inLionsandShadows)drewstrengthfrom their professional status. In peace or in war, under capitalism orCommunism,doctors alwaysknowwhat they shouldbedoing; andeverybodyagrees that they should be doing it. Into theworld ofHector andRobert, theEnemycanonlyenterasapatient—eventhoughhemayhavebeenbombingthehospitalwhenhewasshotdown.Christopheradmiredandenviedthem.Itwastoo late for regrets, but the thought kept arising: he might have been theircolleaguenow.

Stephen’speculiarkindofstrengthlayinhisemotionalflexibility;facedwithan emergency, he sometimes laughed, sometimes wept, always with violence.Stephenwas ratherproudofhis ability toweep, and rightly so.Agrownmanwho can shed tears without embarrassment is like a yogi who has learned toexpel toxic matter from his body by consciously speeding up the peristalticrhythm.Hecaneliminatemanyoflife’spoisons.

(PeoplelikeStephenareunusuallywellequippedtodealwithdanger.Duringthe war, he was to join the Fire Service, which would have seemed toChristophera terribleordeal;notonlybecauseof the fires themselvesbutalsothedizzyinglytallladdersyouhadtoclimb.)

AsforForster,Ihavealreadymadeclearwhatthenatureofhisstrengthwas.AmeetingwithhimneverfailedtorestoreChristopher’smorale.

But it was from John Lehmann that Christopher got support of the mostpractical kind; thanks to John, hewas able to start preparing hismind for theworst. Kathleen and Richard had now left London to visit some cousins inWales.Ifwarbrokeout,theywouldremainthereandKathleen’shousewouldbeclosed.Whenthathappened,saidJohn,Christophermustcomeandsharehisflatwithhim.Already,theywereplanningawartimelifetogether.TheyhadwrittentotheForeignOffice,offeringtheirservicesforpropagandawork.(Icannotnow

believethatChristopherwouldhavebeenabletostickatthisforlong.)Privately,hemade one reservation: ifWystan offered him some other course of action,thenhewouldprobablygoalongwithWystan.ButWystanwas still away,onholidayinBelgium.

*

Thisisanaccountofthefinaldayofthecrisis,September28,takenpartlyfromChristopher’s diary, partly fromDownThereonaVisit, which contains addeddetails,remembered,notinvented:

Thelastshredsofhopearevanishingdownthedrain.WilsoncamebackfromBerlin,snubbed.TheGermanArmymobilizes this afternoon.Parliamentmeets, to introduceconscription.Chamberlainspokelastnight,likeawetfish,saying:Howdreadful,howdreadful.

Londonisallgas-masksandchildrenscreamingwhenthey’refittedon.Everybodyisenlistingorrunningawayfromtown.Nannyiswonderful.Shetrotsupanddownstairs,withcupsofOvaltine.

Later. I went to Victoria to meet Wystan, returning from Belgium. The boat-train was late.Newspapers appearing every 20 minutes. The station full of sailors, going down to join themobilizedfleet.Afewwomenintears.Onerayofhope:Berlindeniestheirreportedultimatumtomobilizeat2P.M.Stolidwithmisery,Ichewedgum.

Wystanarrivedatlast,verysunburntandinthehighestspirits,wearingaloud,becomingchecksuit.“Well,mydear,”hegreetedme,“there isn’tgoingtobeawar,youknow!”Foramoment, Ithoughthemusthavesomestop-pressinformation—butno.HehadmerelymetaladyattheBritishEmbassyinBrusselswhocouldreadcards,andshehadtoldhimthattherewillbenowarthisyear.

Evenaswedroveawayfromthestation,theplacardsappeared:DramaticPeaceMove.Iyelledto the driver to stop—Wystan found my excitement a bit excessive—and we read how Hitler,Mussolini,Daladier,andChamberlainaretomeetinMunichtomorrow.

Later came thenewsof the super-scene in theCommons.Chamberlain’s voicebreaks.QueenMaryintears.OnlytheCommunistGallagherspokeupandsaiditwasallasell-out.

*

AsfarasChristopherwasconcerned—Iwon’tventuretospeakforanybodyelse—this post-Munich autumn of 1938was a period of relief disguised as high-mindeddisgust.Likeallhisfriends,andthousandsofotherpeople,ChristopherdeclaredthatEnglandhadhelpedbetraytheCzechs.Hemeantthis.Itseemedtohimabsolutely self-evident.Yethisdead-secret,basic reactionwas:Whatdo Icare for the Czechs?What does it matter if we are traitors? A war has been

postponed—andawarpostponedisawarwhichmayneverhappen.Wystan and Christopher were now intending to go back to the States,

sometime in the near future. But theywere in no hurry. First, theywanted tofinishJourney toaWar and seeOntheFrontier staged.The special visa theyhadgot from theAmericans inShanghaimade themfeelall themore relaxed.Becauseofit,theywouldhavenofurtherformalitiestogothrough.Theycouldleaveatshortnotice,whenevertheydecidedto.

*

AtthebeginningofNovember,ChristopherwasinvitedbyLadySibylColefax,oneofthemostcelebratedarts-and-lettershostessesoftheday,toadinnerparty.Among the guestswasVirginiaWoolf. By now, she andChristopher hadmetseveral times. Inhermid-fifties,Virginiawasperhapsmorebeautiful than shehadeverbeen.Herfeatureshadthenobilityofaprincessinatragedy,adoomedprincesswhowasneverthelesscapableofsaying,liketheDuchessofMalfi:“Iprithee,whenwerewesomerry?”WhenChristophersawher,shewasfullofwitandgossipanddelicatelymaliciouslaughter.

*

Onanearlieroccasion,whenChristopherhadbeenaskedbytheWoolfstotea,he had stayedon, atVirginia’s suggestion, to supper, remaininghappily underherspell,hardlytalkingatall,justwatchingherandlisteningandlaughing.Thensuddenly, at about ten o’clock, he remembered with a start of dismay that ayoungmanmustalreadybewaitingforhimatahotelnearCroydonAirport—fromwhichtheywereduetofly,nextmorning,onaromantic two-dayvisit toParis.Christopherhadhardlyexpectedtheyoungmantoagreetomakethistripandregardedhimasaconquest tobeproudof.YetChristopherhadabsolutelyforgottenhisexistenceforseveralhoursandwasnowactuallysorrytohavetoleaveVirginia.Couldanyhostessearna sincerer tribute?Shewasn’t awareofthesituation,ofcourse. Indeed,shedoesn’t seemtohavebeenmuchawareofChristopher himself. In her diary, referring to the Colefax dinner party, shedescribeshimasthoughhewerestillastranger:

Isherwood and Imet on the doorstep.He is a slip of awild boy:with quicksilver eyes: nipped;jockeylike.Thatyoungman,saidW.Maugham,“holdsthefutureoftheEnglishnovelinhishands.”

(Thejockeyimpressionwasprobablymade,asRobertCrafthasguessed,byChristopher’s small stature and “bantam-weight, somewhat too short legs, anddisproportionately,evensimianlylongarms.”“Wild”seemsflattering,appliedtotimid cautious Christopher. The adjective “nipped” is the most apt, in myopinion; it is confirmed byKeith Vaughan’s verdict, about ten years later: “adehydratedschoolboy.”)

Maughamwasatthisparty.SowasMaxBeerbohm,plumpbutfragile,withred-ringed pouched blue eyes. He was only ten years older than Virginia butseemedhelplessly becalmed in the past.Christopher could thinkof no remarkwhichwouldblowwindintohissails.Maugham,atnearlyBeerbohm’sage,wasstillbrisklycruisingthepresent.MaughamandChristopheralreadykneweachother slightly; they had had lunch together at Maugham’s club. His darkwatchfulbridgeplayer’seyesintimidatedChristopher;alsohisstammer,whichsomehowmadeyoufeelthatyouwerestammering,nothe.But,behindthegrim,vigorously linedmaskof the face,Christopherwasawareofa shywarmth, towhichhewaseagertorespond.HewouldbehonoredtoadoptMaughamashisUncleWillie,ifonlyMaughamwouldlethim.

Having got rather drunk at dinner, Christopher decided to improve theirrelations.But thedrinkhadbeensufficientonly to interferewithhis timing; itdidn’t steady his nerves. He interrupted what Maugham was telling hissemicircleof listeners,with a fatally tactlessopening line: “Mr.Maugham,ontheboattoChina,lastwinter,wehadanexperiencewhichwasexactlylikeoneofyourstories—”

From then on, all was nightmare. Christopher heard his own thickenedstumbling voice trying to describe the characters ofMr. Potter andWhite andexplain the dramatic significance of their meeting. But he kept leaving outimportantdetails;theanecdotesimplywouldnotcometoapoint.Breakingoffabruptly,heexcusedhimselfandhurriedfromtheroom.Ashewasabouttolethimselfoutofthehouse,aparlormaidcameforward,offeringapen.Sheasked

him to sign LadyColefax’s guestbook.With a shaking hand, he scrawled hissignature,puttingsomuchpressureonthepenthatitsnappedinhalf.Thenhefled,nevertoreturn.

(I havedescribedwhat I rememberChristopher felt.But his disgrace can’thave been as total as he supposed. PerhapsMaugham found his awkwardnesstouchingandsympathetic.Inanycase,itmusthavebeenafterChristopher’sexitthatMaughammade that remark about him toVirginiaWoolf.AndMaughamcontinued to praise Christopher’s work to other people on many occasions.ThoughheneverquitebecameUncleWillie,hewasahelpful,hospitable,andoutspokenfriendtoChristopherfortherestofhislife.)

*

On the Frontier opened at the Arts Theatre, Cambridge, on November 14.MaynardKeyneswasitssponsor.Keynes,thataristocratofBloomsburyandtheStock Exchange, referred to economics as though they were a branch ofacademic philosophy, quite unrelated to mere money. It seemed indelicate torememberthefactthathisfinancialknow-howhadmadehiscollege,King’s,therichestoftheCambridgecollegesandhadfundedthebuildingofthistheater.

Keynes’swife, theformerLydiaLopokova,wastheplay’sleadinglady.Asbefore,Doonedirected,Brittencomposed,Medleydesigned.

Ruperthadtocopewiththeusualproblems.Whenheaskedtheelectricianstocreatetheeffectofanoffstagetorchlightprocession,hewastoldthatthiswasforbidden by the fire regulations. “Ridiculous!” cried Rupert. “All I want islights that flicker.” “Can’t have them.” “But Imust have them!” “Can’t havethem.” Deadlock. Then someone murmured: “Course, we might do theorphanagebeingburnt inGhosts.”This proved to be exactlywhatRupert hadbeen asking for … Although Britten had written music for the song“Industrialists,bankers,incomfortablechairs—”Wystaninsistedthatitmustbesungto theair“SweetBetsyfromPike.”Brittenwasratherhurtbutgavewaywithagoodgrace…Medley’sdividedset,“TheOstnia-WestlandRoom,”wassostrikingthatthewholeaudienceapplaudeditwhenthecurtainrose.

Whatbecameevident inperformancewasthatWystanandChristopherhad

made their two villains, Valerian and the Leader, more entertaining, moresympatheticeven, thananyof theothercharacters.TheplaywasoverbalancedbyValerian’scharmandhumorandtheLeader’sclowning.Thetragiclovestory,despite its beautifulverse, seemeda tiresome interruption.ErnestMilton,whoplayed theLeader, had the reputation of being the only actor inEnglandwhocouldsay“gold”asafour-syllableword:“goo-oo-oo-oold.”HewasallegedtohavedonesoinTimonofAthens.Theywerewillingtobelievethis,thoughtheyhadn’tthenervetoaskhimforademonstration.Theybothreveledinhislarger-than-lifegesturesandintonations.

The first-night audience was friendly. It laughed whenever it could andtreated the rest of the play with polite respect. On the Frontier wasn’t aharrowingdisaster;itpassedawaypainlessly.

Attheend,Wystanhadbeenaskedtomakeanappealfromthestage,foraidto the children of Spain. His speech began with one of those nonsensicalutteranceswhichsometimesbecomelegendary.Theyareproducedbyspeakerswhoaretryingtotalkabouttwodifferentsubjectssimultaneously—inthiscase,theplayandthechildren.Wystanhadevidentlyintendedtosaythatworsethingswerehappeningintheoutsideworldatthatmomentthananythingtheyhadbeenshownin theplay.Whathedidsaywas:“Asyouallknow,worse thingshavebeenhappeningintheaudiencetonightthanonthestage.”Thiswasthebiggestlaughoftheevening.

*

WystanandChristopherwenttoBrusselsinmid-DecemberandweretherewithafewfriendsuntiltheendofthefirstweekofJanuary1939.Whilethere,theyfinishedworkonJourneytoaWar.

ThedateoftheirdepartureforNewYorkwasnowfixed;theyweretosailonJanuary19.Thiswouldbe the first anniversaryof their departure forChina. Isuspect that Christopher chose the French liner Champlain because shehappenedtobesailingonthatday.IknowthathedeliberatelyleftLosAngelesonJanuary19,1947,whenhewasmakinghisfirstreturnvisittoEngland,afterthewar.Christopherlikedtobetonhisluck,sotospeak,bybeginningajourney

orawritingprojectontheanniversaryofapreviousonewhichhadturnedoutwell.Healsokeptalookoutforomens.HehadthoughthehadafavorableonewhenhenoticedthattheirlodgingsinBrusselswereinsidethemapsquareF6.

Thisomendeceivedhim,however.WhileinBrussels,hecaughtclap,forthefirsttimeinhislife.Inthosepre-penicillindays,thetreatmentwaspainful;whenthe doctorwashed out his urethrawith strong stinging disinfectant, he yelled.ButhewascuredagainbeforeChristmas.WystanreferstoChristopherandhisclapin“TheNovelist”:

Andinhisownweakperson,ifhecan,DullyputupwithallthewrongsofMan.

In“Rimbaud,”anothersonnetwrittenat that time,Wystanreferstoadomesticaccident of his own: the radiator in his room had burst and he had had to sitwritinginhisovercoat.Forster,onbeingtoldoftheirtroubles,wroteback:

Mylifeisawatercolorrenderingofyours:aburstwater-pipeinsteadofaradiator,coughandcoldinsteadofclap.

*

Wystan introducedChristopher to thepsychic ladyat theBritishembassywhohadtoldhim,duringhisearliervisit, that therewouldn’tbeaEuropeanwar in1938.TheladyreadChristopher’spalmandsawtheletterHinit.Thisletter,shesaid,wasofgreatimportanceinhislife.Christopherwasimpressed.ApartfromtheobviousreferencetoHeinz, therewasVernon,whoserealnamealsobeganwithanH. (Christopherwasevenmore impressedwhen, in1940,he reflectedthathewasnowinHollywood;thathehadmetHeardagainand,throughhim,Huxley; that hehad embracedHinduism; that hewas livingonHarrattStreet;that he had just written a screenplay based on the novelRage in Heaven byJamesHilton!)

*

Perhaps Wystan and Christopher had lingered in Brussels to shorten their

English goodbye-saying asmuch aswas decently possible.WhenChristopherdidreturntoLondon,hisdayswerefilledwithfarewelllunches,drinks,dinners,parties, lovemakings.Kathleen’s diary recordshismany social engagements—ratherwistfully,forsheherselfwasn’tabletoseemuchofhim.Myownmemoryrecords nothing.Christophermust have found this gradual parting painful andthereforechosentoforgetit.

Did he think of himself as a deserter? He had left England often enoughbefore this and for indefiniteperiods,withonlyavague intentionof returningsomedayorother.Hecouldn’thaveknowndefinitelyyetthathewouldwanttostayintheStates;hemightwellfindthathecouldn’ttakerootthere.Certainly,hisclosercontactwithhisfriendsduringtheMunichcrisis—thefeelingthattheywereallinthesamesinkingboat—hadmadeitharderforhimtoleavethem,thistime.ButIdoubtifanyofhisrealfriendsreproachedhimforit.Theyhadgrownusedtothinkingofhimasachronicwanderer.

I believe that what Christopher then experienced was only the naturalapprehension one feels before taking any big step: Isn’t this all a terriblemistake?

*

Although the Champlain wasn’t going to sail until next day, Wystan andChristopher had arranged to take the boat train to Southampton in the lateafternoon of January 18 and spend that night on board. This was possiblyanotherexcusetocutthepartingsshort—particularlyChristopher’spartingfromKathleenandRichard.

IhavewrittenverylittleabouttherelationsbetweenChristopherandRichardin the years since Christopher left Berlin. There is very little to write. Thebrothers remained intimate, but within narrow limits. Christopher would tellRichard anything about himself that Richard cared to ask, but their privateconversations were brief; they took place chiefly in the bathroom, whileChristopher was shaving. They seldom went out together alone. They almostnevervisitedChristopher’sfriends.Itseemstomenowthat,ifChristopherhadinvolved Richard more deeply in his life, he would have upset the delicate

balanceofhisimprovedrelationswithKathleen.AndRicharddidn’treallywantto be involved. He was a very private person, though full of curiosity aboutothers.HepreferredtobewithChristopher’sfriendsonlywhentheycametothehouse,andthenaskquestionsaboutthemaftertheyhadgone.

OnOctober 7, 1938,Kathleen had become seventy years old.Up to then,Christopherhad remainedvagueaboutherage. Icanstill remember theshockwhich thenewsgavehim; shealways lookedmuchyounger than shewas.Hetold her jokingly that no doubt her youthfulnesswas due to his never havingtreated her as an old lady; this was his way of apologizing for his pastunkindnesses.

Kathleen and Christopher both cried a little when they said goodbye. Thethought that they might not see each other again was in their minds. ButChristopher’sdepartureforChinamaywellhaveseemedgloomier toKathleenthanthisone,forthenhewasgoingintosomedanger.AyoungmanChristopherhadgrownveryfondofcamewithhimin the taxi toWaterlooStation.Ontheway there, he gave Christopher a keepsake—the cork from his first bottle ofchampagne—overwhichmore tearswere shed. Forster,who had come to seethem off, asked Christopher, “Shall I join the Communist Party?” I am sureChristopher’s answer was no, but I forget the reason he gave. Probably theconventional one: You can be more useful outside it. In any case, Forster’squestionwas less thanhalf serious.Thedeparting, like thedying, are creditedwithpsychicwisdom;youfeelyououghttoaskthemsomething.

It was sad, sad as dying, to leave these loved ones behind. But neitherWystannorChristopherwanted to admit that thiswas in any sense adeathorthattheyweretheobjectsofawake.Astheboattrainpulledoutofthestationandtheyneedwavenolonger,Christopherfeltaquickupsurgeofrelief.HeandWystanexchangedgrins,schoolboygrinswhich took themback to theearliestdaysof their friendship.“Well,” saidChristopher, “we’reoffagain.”“Goody,”saidWystan.

*

Now,onboard theChamplain, theywere really alone together, as theyhadn’t

beensincetheChinajourney.InBrussels,therehadalwaysbeenotherpeopleinthebackground.InLondon,theyhadbeenleadingpubliclives.

Wystanwas embarrassedbyChristopher’spublic self—the Isherwoodwhowould put an arm around his shoulder when cameras or other eyes werewatching. Isherwood was good at self-exposure; he knew all the tricks ofmodestyandneverboastedexceptinprivate.(Whenhedidboast,mostlyabouthis sex life, it was with a vulgarity which showed that he was truly UncleHenry’snephew.)Wystanwasshyerandmorefastidious;thissometimeshadtheoddeffectofmakinghispublicselfseemaggressive,dogmatic,arrogant.(Itwasonly much later, in America, that he began to love and be loved by hisaudiences.) In public,Wystan andChristopherwere as polite to each other asmere acquaintances. IfWystan disagreed stronglywith somethingChristopherhadsaid,afurrowwouldappearbetweenhiseyesandhismouthwouldbegintotwitch.ButhenevercontradictedChristopherwhenstrangerswerepresent.

Now,communicationbetween themwasreestablished.This, toChristopherat least, meant an unaccustomed freedom. Alone with Wystan, he was able,literally, to speak hismind—to say thingswhich he hadn’t knownwere in it,until themoment of speaking. Onemorning, when they were walking on thedeck,Christopherheardhimselfsay:“Youknow,it justdoesn’tmeananythingtome anymore—thePopular Front, the party line, the anti-Fascist struggle. Isupposethey’reokaybutsomething’swrongwithme.Isimplycannotswallowanothermouthful.”TowhichWystananswered:“NeithercanI.”

Thosewerenot theirexactwords,but,psychologically, itwasassimpleasthat.Theyhadbeenplayingparts,repeatingsloganscreatedforthembyothers.Nowtheywantedtostop.Christopherfeltalmostequallysurprisedbyhisownstatement and byWystan’s agreementwith it. The surprisewasmutual. Theiragreementmade themhappy.Now,more thanever, theywereallied.Yet theirpositionswerereallyquitedifferent.

Wystanhadbeenawareofhisownchangeofattitudeforsometimealready.Hehadn’tspokenofittoChristopherbecausehehadexpectedthatChristopherwouldbehorrifiedbyit.AsIhavesaidearlier,Wystan’s left-wingconvictionshad always been halfhearted and at oddswith his religious feelings.While in

Spain,hehadbeendisgustedby theburningofchurchesand theanti-religiouspropagandapermittedbythegovernment.Nevertheless,hehadbelievedthatthegovernment’s cause was mainly just. He had been willing to fight againstFranco.Hewasn’tapacifistandwouldneverbecomeone.BackinEngland,hehadattendedmeetingsandmadepublicstatementsbecausehestillbelievedthatFrancomustbefought,andbecausehewantedtoshowhissolidaritywithleft-wingfriendsheadmiredandloved.Now,however,hewasabouttostartanewlife inanothercountry.Hisobligationswouldn’tbe the same in theStates.Hewouldn’t be a member of a group. He could express himself freely as anindividual.

Christopher had taken longer than Wystan to become aware of his ownchange of attitude because he was embarrassed by its basic cause: hishomosexuality.Asahomosexual,hehadbeenwaveringbetweenembarrassmentanddefiance.Hebecameembarrassedwhenhefeltthathewasmakingaselfishdemandforhisindividualrightsatatimewhenonlygroupactionmattered.Hebecamedefiantwhenhemadethetreatmentofthehomosexualatestbywhicheverypoliticalpartyandgovernmentmustbejudged.Hischallengetoeachoneofthemwas:“Allright,we’veheardyourlibertyspeech.Doesthatincludeusordoesn’tit?”

TheSovietUnion had passed this testwith honorswhen it recognized theprivatesexualrightsoftheindividual,in1917.But,in1934,Stalin’sgovernmenthad withdrawn this recognition and made all homosexual acts punishable byheavy prison sentences. It had agreed with the Nazis in denouncinghomosexualityasaformoftreasontothestate.TheonlydifferencewasthattheNaziscalledit“sexualBolshevism”andtheCommunists“Fascistperversion.”

Christopher—likemany of his friends, homosexual and heterosexual—haddonehisbesttominimizetheSovietbetrayalofitsownprinciples.Afterall,hehad said to himself, anti-homosexual laws exist in most capitalist countries,including England and the United States. Yes—but if Communists claim thattheir system is juster than capitalism, doesn’t that make their injustice tohomosexualslessexcusableandtheirhypocrisyevenviler?Henowrealizedhemust dissociate himself from the Communists, even as a fellow traveler. He

might,incertainsituations,acceptthemasalliesbuthecouldneverregardthemascomrades.Hemustneveragaingiveway toembarrassment,neverdeny therights of his tribe, never apologize for its existence, never think of sacrificinghimself masochistically on the altar of that false god of the totalitarians, theGreatestGoodoftheGreatestNumber—whosepriestsarealoneempoweredtodecidewhat“good”is.

(Wystan was much more apologetic about his homosexuality thanChristopherwas, andmuch less aggressive.His religion condemned it and heagreedthatitwassinful,thoughhefullyintendedtogoonsinning.)

ThechangeinChristopher’sattitudewasalsorelatedtoHeinzandtheNazis.As long as Heinz had been outside their power but menaced by them,Christopher’sattitude to themhadbeenoneofuncomplicatedhatred.ButnowHeinzwasabouttobecomeanunwillingpartoftheNazimilitarymachine.SoonhewouldbewearingHitler’suniform.Christopherdidn’tforonemomentwishhim todootherwise.Heinzhadplentyof couragebuthewasn’t the typewhocouldbeexpectedtodisappearandjointheunderground,ortotakeastandasapacifistinacountrywherepacifistswouldprobablybeexecuted.

Suppose,Christophernowsaidtohimself,IhaveaNaziArmyatmymercy.Icanblowitupbypressingabutton.Themen in thatArmyarenotoriousfortorturing and murdering civilians—all except for one of them, Heinz. Will Ipress the button? No—wait: Suppose I know that Heinz himself, out ofcowardiceormoralinfection,hasbecomeasbadastheyareandtakespartinalltheir crimes? Will I press that button, even so? Christopher’s answer, givenwithouttheslightesthesitation,was:Ofcoursenot.

That was a purely emotional reaction. But it helped Christopher think hiswaythroughtothenextproposition.SupposethatArmygoesintoactionandhasjust one casualty, Heinz himself.Will I press the button now and destroy hisfellowcriminals?Noemotionalreactionthistime,butaclearanswer,nottobeevaded:OnceIhaverefusedtopressthatbuttonbecauseofHeinz,Icanneverpressit.BecauseeverymaninthatArmycouldbesomebody’sHeinzandIhavenorighttoplayfavorites.ThusChristopherwasforcedtorecognizehimselfasapacifist—although by an argument which he could only admit to with the

greatestreluctance.Other thoughts and emotions related themselves to this argument.

RememberingthosehaplesshomelessChinesecrowds,pushedhelplesslybythewartide,clingingtotheroofsoftrainsorhuddledbesidethetracks,ChristopherfeltashamedofallthemilitantlecturesonChinahehadbeengiving,rightuptothetimehesailed.Howcouldhehavedaredtosuggestthatanyofthesepeople—or any people anywhere—ought to fight, ought to die in defense of anyprinciples, however excellent? Imust honor thosewho fight of their own freewill,hesaidtohimself.AndImusttrytoimitatetheircouragebyfollowingmypathasapacifist,whereverittakesme.

The above description ofChristopher’s reactions is far too lucid, however.What had actually begun to surface in his muddled mind was a conflict ofemotions. He felt obliged to become a pacifist, he refused to deny hishomosexuality, hewanted to keep asmuch of his leftism as he could.All hecoulddoforthepresentwastopickuphisideasoneafteranotherandreexaminethem,ringthemlikecoins,saying:Thisone’scounterfeit;thisone’sgenuine,butIcan’tuseit;thisoneIcankeep,Ithink.

Wystan had his mother’s Christianity to fall back on. Christopher hadnothingbutanegativedecision—ifwarcame,hewouldn’tfight.Hewasaware,ofcourse, thatpacifismhad itspositiveobligations—youhad todosomethinginsteadoffighting.HeardandHuxleywere theonly twoarticulatepacifistshecouldcontact.Theymightbeabletorestatepacifismforhimintermsofreason,insteadofemotion.HehadbeentoldthattheyhadentangledthemselvesinsomeOriental religion; but he could reject the religion and still adopt their pacifistideology.Hewouldwrite toHeard as soon as he landed inNewYork. Later,perhaps,hewouldgoouttoCaliforniaandconsultthemboth.

*

Thevoyagewasstormy.TheChamplainseemedverysmall,slitheringdownthelong grayAtlantic slopes, under a burdened sky.On this voyage,Wystan andChristopherhadnoliterarycollaborationtooccupythem.Wrappedinrugs,theylay sipping bouillon, or they paced the deck, or drank at the bar, or watched

movies in the saloon, where French tapestries flapped out from the creaking,strainingwalls as the ship rolled.They amused themselves by takingover thepuppet show in the children’s playroom and improvising Franco-Englishdialoguefullofprivate jokesanddoublemeanings.Theiraudienceofchildrendidn’tcarewhat thepuppets said, as longas theykept jumpingabout.Off thecoast of Newfoundland, the ship ran into a blizzard. She entered New Yorkharborlookinglikeaweddingcake.

*

AttheendofChristopher’sbriefvisitin1938,hehadfeltabsolutelyconfidentofone thing,at least. Ifhediddecide tosettle inAmerica—and,byAmerica,hemeantNewYork—hewould be able tomake himself at home there. This, hesaid to himself, was a setting in which his public personality would functionmorefreely,moresuccessfullythanitcouldeverhavefunctionedinLondon.Oh,he’dtalkfasterandlouderthananyofthenatives.He’dpickuptheirslangandtheiraccent.He’d learnall their tricks.Someonehad repeated tohimasayingaboutthecity:“Here,you’llfindsympathyinthedictionaryandeverythingelseatthenearestdrugstore.”Thisdelightedhim.Hehadaccepteditasachallengetobetough.

But now New York, on that bitter winter morning, appeared totally,shockingly transformedfromtheplacehehadwavedgoodbye to, thepreviousJuly.Christopherexperiencedasuddenpanickylossofconfidence.

Theretheystoodinthedrivingsnow—themade-in-FranceGiantesswithherliberty torch,whichnowseemed to threaten,notwelcome, thenewcomer;andtheRed Indian islandwith its appalling towers.Therewas theCitadel—stark,vertical, gigantic, crammed with the millions who had already managed tostruggle ashore and find a foothold.Youwouldhave to fight yourway inlandfromyourveryfirststepontothepier.Already, itwasthreateningyouwithitstootingtugboats,daringyoutocombat.

God, what a terrifying place this suddenly seemed! You could feel itvibratingwiththetensionofthenervousNewWorld,aggressivelyflauntingitsrudesteelnudity.We’reAmericanshere—andwekeepatit,twenty-fourhoursa

day,beingAmericans.Wescream,wegrab,wejostle.We’venotimeforwhat’sslow,what’sgracious,what’snice,quiet,modest.Don’tyoucomesnootinguswith your European traditions—we know the mess they’ve got you into. Dothingsourwayor take thenext boat back—back toyourEurope that’s fallingapartattheseams.Well,makeupyourmind.Areyouquittingorstaying?It’snoskinoffournose.Wepromisenothing.Here,you’llbeonyourown.

Christopher, trying hard to think positive thoughts, declared that he wasstaying. But the Giantess wasn’t impressed. The towers didn’t care. Okay,Buster,suityourself.

*

Now,however,thequarantinelauncharrived.OnitwereErikaandKlausMann,come out to welcome them. They were full of liveliness and gossip. And, atonce, the Giantess stopped threatening, the towers no longer appalled.Christopher felt himself among friends, cared for, safe.AndVernonwould bewaitingforhimonshore;ChristopherhadcabledtohimfromtheChamplain.Acouple of hours from now, somewhere within the grimness of that iceboundCitadel,inaplaceofwarmthandjoy,thetwoofthemwouldbeineachother’sarms.

*

This is where I leave Christopher, at the rail, looking eagerly, nervously,hopefully toward the landwhere he will spendmore than half of his life. Atpresent, he can see almost nothing of what lies ahead. In the absence of thefortune-telling lady from Brussels, I will allow him and Wystan to ask onequestion—Icanalreadyguesswhatitis—andIwillanswerit:

Yes,mydears,eachofyouwillfindthepersonyoucameheretolookfor—the idealcompanion towhomyoucan revealyourself totallyandyetbe lovedforwhatyouare,notwhatyoupretendtobe.You,Wystan,willfindhimverysoon,withinthreemonths.You,Christopher,willhavetowaitmuchlongerforyours.Heisalreadylivinginthecitywhereyouwillsettle.Hewillbenearyouformanyyearswithoutyourmeeting.Butitwouldbenogoodifyoudidmeet

himnow.Atpresent,heisonlyfouryearsold.

BooksbyChristopherIsherwood

NOVELS

AMeetingbytheRiverASingleManDownThereonaVisitTheWorldintheEveningPraterViolet

GoodbyetoBerlinTheLastofMr.Norris(Englishtitle:Mr.NorrisChangesTrains)TheMemorial

AlltheConspirators

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

MyGuruandHisDiscipleChristopherandHisKindKathleenandFrankLionsandShadows

BIOGRAPHY

RamakrishnaandHisDisciplesPLAYS(withW.H.Auden)OntheFrontier

TheAscentofF6TheDogbeneaththeSkin

TRAVEL

TheCondorandtheCowsJourneytoaWar(withW.H.Auden)

COLLECTION

Exhumations

TRANSLATIONS

TheIntimateJournalsofCharlesBaudelaire(andthefollowingwithSwamiPrabhavananda)TheYogaAphorismsofPatanjaliShankara’sCrest-Jewelof

DiscriminationTheBhagavad-Gita

Copyright©1976byChristopherIsherwoodAllrightsreservedLibraryofCongresscatalogcardnumber:76-42228PublishedinCanadabyCollinsPublishers,Toronto

eISBN9781466853294

FirsteBookedition:August2013