Showing posts with label Philip Hoare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philip Hoare. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Ghost stories, 60s queens, a pre-menstrual terrorist, Bright Young Things, Miss Hepburn and a singing Xmas tree





The gang (John-John, Paul, Jim, Ange, Little Tony, Alex, Emma, Toby, Wayne and I) gathered in style once more on Monday for the final outing of "London's peerless gay literary salon" of 2013 - A Very Polari Xmas, indeed!



Paul Burston had decked his proverbials with tinsel for the occasion, and without further ado welcomed us all with mulled wine and mince pies the first guest to the stage.



Ann Mann has had a long history in entertainment - she sang with The George Mitchell Singers (who were most famous, nay notorious, for being the mainstay of The Black and White Minstrel Show), and has worked for Disney, Hammer and the BBC. Now she's turned her talents to writing, and has come up with a fabulous story indeed.

Understandably already in the planning stages for a possible film, the extracts she read from her debut novel The Impersonator opened dramatically with the murder of a couple in rebellion-riven 1960s Rhodesia, which led to the surviving teenage daughter having to be placed in the care of her uncle in London. The twist, of course, is that the uncle is a closeted (by necessity in that day and age) gay man enmeshed in the world of showbiz - and the "impersonator" of the title? That is the mystery figure whose intervention in this fragile situation causes emotional mayhem for all concerned. This is definitely a book worth further investigation, methinks...



Next up was the exceptionally attractive Mr Neil Spring (shades of Montgomery Clift, we thought). His first novel The Ghost Hunters is a spooky tale (and another, like Miss Mann's, with filming rights optioned already) based upon the true story of the 1920s ghost-hunter Harry Price, the "most haunted house in England" and the media frenzy that surrounded his investigations, as narrated by his (now elderly) assistant:
"...the Society for Psychical Research also has its doubts due to the discovery of yet more inconsistencies in the evidence Price amassed: missing details, ill-substantiated facts and accusations. They are certain their investigation will bring them to the ‘truth’.

Well, let them look, if they dare. They already know that at the moment of his death Price was writing the opening chapters of a third book on the haunted Borley Rectory. What they don’t know is that Price died in very mysterious circumstances and that in the months leading up to his death he was troubled with the worst nightmares imaginable: he thought he was being followed and he received something rather mysterious, rather dangerous, in the post.

The world would be astonished to hear it, but I know that these events – his greatest investigation and his death – were connected.

I know that his pursuers will find me. They will want my story."
We were as transfixed by the tale as we were by the reader.



Closing the first half on a musical high, we were overjoyed to have our friend Marcus Reeves ("A new Tim Rice", according to Elaine Paige) take the Polari stage once more. Arriving resplendent in a voodoo headdress ("made with the skulls of former lovers", he quipped) and departing as the "man behind the mask", in between he treated us to a fab selection of tunes from his newly-launched album Quicksilver: The Masquerade Macabre [I couldn't make the launch party itself, more's the pity], including this one - Mad, Bad World:


After the fabness of Mr Reeves and the chance to grab a ciggie and a drink in the interval, it was back to our seats. Paul began by solemnly singing the praises of the renowned author Karen McLeod, when the stage was invaded - again! - by none other than Barbara Brownskirt ("Poet of the People").



In her trademark cagoule, swigging from her bottle of sherry, and despite all protestations, she launched into a selection of her "poetry", including this one - The Publishers Are All Bent But Not In A Good Way, from one of her 18 volumes of (as yet, unpublished) work: this one is from Volume 6 Pre-Menstrual Terrorist:


Miss McLeod (for it, of course, was she) is a downright bloody genius, and Ms Brownskirt is one of her most hilarious creations.



Speaking of genius: our star reader Mr Philip Hoare, on taking to the podium looked rather nonplussed to follow that! Mr Hoare is a very well-respected researcher and storyteller, and, as it seems from his anecdotes, mixed in some very glamorous circles indeed. Writing his biography of the brightest of the "Bright Young Things" Stephen Tennant, he was actually granted an audience with the grand old queen herself [I'm not envious, of course!], corpulent and bedridden (by choice it seems rather than for any physical reason), surrounded by his menagerie of exotic lizards and other creatures he had transplanted from tropical climes to his crumbling family estate in Wiltshire. Stephen, Mr Hoare explained, was one of the "three loves of his life".

The second of these loves - and the subject of another biography he wrote - was dear Noël Coward. Apparently many of the stories about Mr Hoare's encounters with "The Master" are too smutty to be revealed to a literary audience [make of that what you will!], so instead he treated us to his meeting with another legendary creature - Miss Katherine Hepburn - and the conversations they had about Noël. [I was green with envy by this point.] Completing the circle, Mr Hoare's third love - and the one writing about which he won the greatest accolades including the Samuel Beckett Prize - was of course, the whale. So successful indeed was Leviathan (his book about the great endangered creatures) that he was asked to create a series of films for the BBC's "Whale Night", among other blubber-related projects, and has returned to the subject for his latest book The Sea Inside, from which he also read a couple of extracts. Utterly fascinating and entrancing, I could have listened to him all night.



Alas, it was almost time to go, as Mr B rounded up our participants for the obligatory on-stage line-up and tumultuous applause from a very appreciative audience of literati.



But it was not quite over yet... It is that time of year, of course - and onto the stage in a shower of baubles and glitter, we welcomed the return of the amazing Singing Christmas Tree! (Marcus Reeves again). Mere words cannot describe the wonder in our eyes and the joy in our hearts...





Sad to bid farewell to another year of brilliance, courtesy of Polari. However, the whole thing is back at the Southbank Centre on 24th January with readings from Christopher Fowler, Joelle Taylor, James Maker, Keith Jarrett and Anya Nyx.

Roll on 2014, I say!

Polari

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

Jaclyn Smith hair, ukelele-playing lesbians and the "Cult of the Clitoris"



Another great time was had by all at Polari last night!

Paul Burston - feeling slightly confused by introducing an evening's entertainment against a backdrop of brilliant sunshine through the panoramic windows of the Festival Hall - promised us a bit of a gender-bending evening, and that is certainly how it began...



Opening the session was the diminutive "faggy genderqueer" Len Lukowska, who regaled us with a rather funny (and very real!) tale of decadent times as the new boy/girl in London:
The morning after the zombie night I overslept. I’d just started a temp job at a library on the other side of London and was meant to be there in half an hour. I had fallen asleep in all my clothes, which was lucky as I had no time to change. I opened Paco’s top drawer, rifled among the condoms and found his deodorant. Lynx Africa. I sprayed it under my armpits, put my shoes on and I was good to go. I still stank of booze.
Familiar stuff.

Next up was the eminent Brighton historian Rose Collis, who is a truly knowledgeable and fascinating writer (her Encyclopaedia of Brighton, full of facts about her beloved city - and a lot of gay history, unsurprisingly - is out now).

Among the tales she recounted was the fascinating life of one Mary Diana Dods, a close friend of Mary Shelley, who decided to fashion an entire life for herself as a man. Calling herself Walter Sholto Douglas (she was not in fact related to the family of Lord Alfred "Bosie" Sholto Douglas, however), she "married" her friend Isabella Robinson, who was pregnant, and with the help of Mary Shelley they moved to France and brought the child up together as "husband" and wife. I was gripped!



Miss Collis is also, as Paul B remarked, the first lesbian historian to read and play the ukulele at Polari! [Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehaving", if you need to know.]

However, even more fabbiness was to follow - in the shape of the magnificent Welsh transgender cognitive behavioural psychotherapist and author Alex Drummond, resplendent with Jaclyn Smith hair and Roger Whittaker beard.



Miss/Mr Drummond read us a fabulous tale of his/her adventures as a "trans-grrl" making a first visit to Newport ("New-putt", the roughest place on earth - and my home town!). A brave move indeed, and brilliantly told. His/her book Queering the Tranny is out next month, and promises to be a cracking read! Download an extract and/or pre-order your copy at: http://www.queeringthetranny.com/

In a tribute to Miss/Mr Drummond, Paul Burston also decided to "dress to impress":



After the break came a real treat - the excellent and learned Philip Hoare, biographer of the early decadent dandies Noël Coward and Stephen Tennant and all-round expert in the gay history of the early 20th century.



Introducing his book Wilde's Last Stand: Decadence, Conspiracy and the First World War, he told us the enthralling true story of the scandalous libel trial of Maud Allen vs Noel Pemberton-Billing (right-wing MP and predecessor of Mosley). From the Good Reads website:
The Billing trial's beginnings can be traced to the moment British authorities finally permitted a staging of Wilde's play Salome. American beauty Maud Allan was to dance the lead. So outraged was Noel Pemberton Billing, a member of Parliament and self-appointed guardian of family values, that he denounced Allan in the right-wing newspaper Vigilante as a member of the "Cult of the Clitoris." Billing was convinced that the "Cult of Wilde" - a catch-all for anyone guilty of degeneracy and perversion, in his eyes - had infected the land. Of that, Billing maintained, he had proof: a black book containing the names of 47,000 members of the British establishment who without doubt were members of the Cult of Wilde was in the hands of the Germans. Threat of exposure was costing England the war. Maud Allan sued Billing for libel, and the trial that followed held the world in thrall. Was there or was there not a black book? What names did it contain? The Billing trial was both hugely entertaining - never had scandal and social prominence been so deliciously juxtaposed - and deadly serious. As in Oscar Wilde's own trial in 1895 (which also took place at the Old Bailey), libel was hardly the issue; the fight was for control over the country's moral compass. In Oscar Wilde's Last Stand, biographer and historian Philip Hoare gives us the full drama of the Billing trial, gavel to gavel, and brings to life this unique, bizarre, and spell-binding event.
I can't wait to read this...

Our finale was provided by musical genius Terry Ronald (who has worked with Kylie and Dannii Minogue, Geri Halliwell and Sheena Easton!), reading from his fabulously camp first novel Becoming Nancy [Kylie described it thus: "I laughed out loud! Terry’s humour translates perfectly to the page and his book is a joy!"].



The story is set in South London in 1979, and centres around David, a 15-year-old Debbie Harry-obsessed boy growing up and coming to terms with his sexuality. The extract he read focused on David and his boyfriend Maxie as they manage to sneak into their first gay club with the help of a sassy old drag queen, and was hilarious!

Read an excellent review of Mr Ronald's book on FizzyPop! blog.

John-John, Paul, Jim and I had a wonderful time as ever! Our next "fix" will be Polari Goes Pop on 22 June, as our "peerless gay literary salon" celebrates the Meltdown Festival 2011 with James Maker, Bugger Chops aka Daniel Haynes, Sophia Blackwell, Ernesto Sarezale, Paul Hickey and Michael Alago, and promises "a very special guest". I can't wait!!

Polari at the Southbank