SEPTEMBER 1976

TWO BY ROBIN MAUGHAM

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Are you in the mood for some pleasant early fall reading something geared to gay tastes: not too cerebral, yet with sufficient literary merit to warrant spending the time? I heartily recommend "The Wrong People" and "The Link" by Robin Maugham, newphew of Somerset LeGrand Maugham. Both works are products of the late sixties, and are, therefore, sufficiently au courant so that the up-to-date gay will readily identify with them. Yet, there's something stylistically quaint which, for me, adds a certain charm. Devoid of hard-core realism to a great extent, the novels bear a faint resemblance to the early works of Gore Vidal. Moreover, the polish of the author's Eton-Cambridge bred language style places his works far above those of many present American novelists who often seem to delight in assaulting our more delicate sensibilities. Finally, Robin like Uncle Willie (Somerset) was intimately and personally acquainted with the gay world. Are you convinced, or shall say more?

More! "The Wrong People", despite its title is about us (the "Right People") and, of the two, is distinctly more erotically stimulating. Set in Tangiers, one feels the heat of the North African sun, sees the azure quality of the sky and the beige and orange of the earth, hears the muezzin call the faithful to prayer. There is a fragrant smell of the delicate foliage, combined with the pungent street smells of the bazaars of Tangier. Into this exotic locale, Maugham

glitter existence of sex and alcohol and become painfully real and, for me, all to recognizable. The plot is, I would say, a bit contrived, but the outcome is utterly logical -not happy, but satifying from a literary point of view. I shant give details. Those will be your happy discovery should you care to read the book. In

contrast to the polychromatic quality of the North African locale, "The Link" is set in mid-Victorian England and, later (briefly) in Mexico and Australia. In my judgment, this work is considerably more satisfying from the standpoint of literary craftmanship. It is certainly more complex in construction. Maugham shifts from past to present and from one country to the other with perfect ease. The result is a narrative which has a multi-dimensional texture. The story is intriguing to say the least.

The novel is sub-titled A Victorian Mystery. If you're a Conan Doyle fan, you'll not find Mr. Maugham's work in that vein, however. The "mystery" element is much more subtle and, although we are left to wonder until very nearly the end of the tale as to the identity of the young man, who appears early in the yarn claiming to be the supposedly drowned-at-sea Baronet, James Steede, the real charm of the work is not that it

can

claim kinship with the mystery genre. Rather, it is the mood of the work which I found attractive. Translated into visual terms, the story has the spare feeling of a dry-point etching or has set characters who might be was reminded of an Arthur a print done in sepia half-tone. I out of a Warner Brother's movie, Miller play in this respect. More circa 1940-41. The action mainly than "The Wrong People" the concerns a slightly-more-than characters are utterly genuine in young British schoolmaster (Arconception and, at least to me, nold) and a set of thoroughly capable of evoking deep symhedonistic types British ex-pathy. The gay theme is evident, patriates mostly who live high although somewhat subtle. Yet, the story is a powerful one. The its effect upon the outcome of revelation of the "mystery" brings more sense of religious truth than of melodramatic musing.

on incomes of various sizes and of diverse and, sometimes, dubious origins. Each is immediately recognizable, although somewhat stereotypic: the fat, rich, sensuous, shrewd "queen"; a pair of equally old, rich, sensuous, lonely women who support men for their pleasure (often with pathetic abandon); the native boys eager for money, sexually accommodating to any and all for a price; and a cast of supporting characters, each of whom is carefully drawn to give a picture of jet-set society at its most degraded.

Yet, all is not lost. There are moments when the artful side of Maugham gives the reader a furtive glimpse into the hurts, dreams and joys of his people. Then, they leave their tinsel and

of a

I, for one, was glad to become acquainted with Robin Maugham. His own life and gay experience is recorded in his autobiography, "Escape from the Shadows." I will endeavor to report on that work in another issue (with Ye Editor's kind permission), but in the meanwhile, do consider reading these works. I think you'll be proud to claim this distinguished author as one of "our own." You may even find them in the Cuyahoga County Library (with 22 branches). Cheers!

By D.C.

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