Book Review: Details of Jeremy Stretton
Sep. 21st, 2023 09:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerAfter my Audrey Erskine Lindop haul at John K. King Books, I decided to start with her 1955 release Details of Jeremy Stretton, the one with the canon gay.
This book! Is so much! In every possible way! It’s well-written, and truly quite stressful to read, and also extremely 1955 in all its attitudes. As it’s quite hard to find I’m going to spoil it with gay abandon, so please avert your eyes if you don’t wish to be spoiled.
The book is told in three parts, each organized around an important male figure in Jeremy’s life. The first, of course, is Jeremy’s father, Jordon Stretton. Jeremy’s mother died when he was born, and public opinion in the town is that the grieving widower rejected the poor little mite thereafter, although, Lindop assures us, Jordon actually does love the boy. He’s just such a reserved man that Jeremy doesn’t know it, and he becomes convinced that his father might like him better if he were a girl, culminating in an attempt to become a girl by switching clothes with the neighbor girl Pam - to the absolute horror of Pam’s mother and Jeremy’s spinster aunt, because when the children were changing clothes they must have seen each other naked!
(They are six years old.)
In the end, Jeremy gives up on ever winning his father’s love, and we move on to part two, John Osbourne, named after the headmaster of Jeremy’s boarding school who Jeremy grows to adore. Early on in the sequence, a teacher at the school is sacked for molesting one of the boys; Osbourne wants him prosecuted, but his wife and the other teachers, concerned what this would do to the reputation of the school, convince him to ask the parents of the boy, who out of concern for the reputation of their son want it all hushed up.
Afterward, Osbourne and his wife discuss the incident:
”I appreciate your White Knight attitude,” [says Mrs. Osbourne], “but don’t give yourself complexes about it.”
“I’m not in the slightest danger of getting complexes about homosexuality,” Osbourne snapped.
”It exists in everyone, so we’re told, or rather the possibility of it. It just depends how strong it is, I suppose.”
“Rubbish,” said Osbourne. “It doesn’t exist in decent people.”
But Jeremy adores Osbourne so much that people begin to wonder if Osbourne hasn’t been “monkeying about” with the boy. Osbourne has not, but their suspicions (plus a memory of a sexual encounter with an older boy when he was in boarding school) convince him that he must want to, and it ends with Osbourne jumping off a mountain.
End of part two. Part three is “Louis Presnor.” “That’s going to be either Jeremy’s lover or his therapist,” I deduced, and the fact that Louis Presnor is Jeremy’s happily married Jewish doctor (and also Jeremy is in love with him) probably accounts for the book’s lack of an enduring place in the pantheon of early queer literature.
Presnor comes across as an incredibly kind, dedicated, compassionate man, who wants nothing more than to help… but he’s hitched his wagon to the star of mid-century psychology, which means that he almost certainly won’t help Jeremy at all, except insofar as having a kind, dedicated, compassionate friend is helpful in and of itself.
And what is the mid-century psychology view of homosexuality, you ask? Homosexuality is a result of complexes developed in early childhood, which means that (like any other complex) it’s not wrong, exactly, but simply a maladjustment, and the kind and compassionate thing to do is to help readjust the sufferers so they can experience life’s greatest joy: heterosexual marriage and children. (But also if someone is set in their homosexual ways and seems happy about it you should just leave them alone.)
However, Jeremy is definitely not happy about it, in fact is so unhappy about it that he refuses to even admit to himself that he is homosexual, in fact just married his childhood friend Pam in a desperate attempt to force himself to be straight. So he is a perfect candidate for treatment.
Here, in abbreviated form, let me lay out the path of Jeremy and Presnor’s association.
Jeremy first sees Presnor in a gay bar. He is immediately attracted because Presnor looks a little like his father. (So did Osbourne.)
Presnor approaches Jeremy on the street. Jeremy punches him in the face, even though he knows that Presnor is a doctor who hangs out at gay bars for… compassionate reasons? (This is not really credible but somehow feels credible in the world of the book.)
Jeremy ends up agreeing to treatment, only to realize that he has fallen in love with Presnor, and he flees in terror because of course Presnor will reject him if he ever finds out.
Jeremy takes a woman prostitute friend to Paris to attempt once again to be straight! This does not work. (The woman prostitute is obsessed with history and so is her ex-con boyfriend and they want to start an antiques business together. I love them.)
Jeremy comes back and confesses to Louis Presnor that he is in love with him and Presnor is like “Ah, yes, transference.”
Jeremy can’t bear to go back to his wife, so Presnor then invites Jeremy to live in his house to continue treatment! Also, Presnor has not been charging for treatment at all. Again, this massive overinvestment really shouldn’t be credible, and reading it in summary like this I have no doubt some of you are thinking “Is Presnor in love with Jeremy?” But the overwhelming feeling I get from Presnor’s characterization is that if he did realize he was in love with Jeremy he would be like, “Ah, yes, countertransference.” Just totally chill about it.
At dinner in the Presnor household, Presnor’s mother-in-law Mrs. Goldstein cheerfully asks, “You are homosexual, I expect, Mr. Stretton?” Jeremy is deeply embarrassed, but over time, “The Presnor household’s matter-of-fact acceptance of inversion had an extraordinarily soothing effect on him. It was a relief to shed all attempts at deception.”
(“Acceptance?” you say, doubtfully. “But isn’t Presnor trying to cure him?” Oh yes he is. Accepting your homosexuality is the first step to curing it. Like alcoholism.)
But Jeremy grows despondent as his treatment seems to lead him only to fall deeper in love with Presnor, and he runs off for a few weeks with a bad news jerk guy. All seems lost - when Jeremy’s father shows up! Presnor has told him all!
(“But doctor-patient confidentiality?” you say. Look, book doctors didn’t hear of such a thing until at least 1995.)
Jeremy’s father is actually extremely kind! He apologizes for all his failures as a father, assures Jeremy that he has always and will always love him, and begs him to come home.
Stunned by this un-looked-for acceptance, Jeremy decides that the only thing for it is to kill himself.
He goes back to the flat he shares with his wife Pam intending to stick his head in the oven, only to discover that Pam has tried to kill herself with an overdose of aspirin!
In a panic, he calls Presnor, who discovers that Pam is still alive and indeed not in any danger.
Humbled, Jeremy recommits himself to life and to treatment. “I know I’ve been a hell of a nuisance to you and I may have seemed ungrateful - but you did offer me friendship, don’t forget.”
“I shan’t forget it,” Presnor said.
And FIN.
“Is it a good book?” you ask. Reader, that depends what you mean. Is it readable, is it engrossing, does Audrey Erskine Lindop grow strong on the tears of her readers? Yes. Is it a fascinating evocation of its period, from which you will learn many interesting things about 1950s attitudes toward gender and sexuality? Also yes.
Does it contain opinions that you, a reader in the year of our lord 2023, will agree with? Absolutely not. I feel confident that no matter what your opinions are, they do not approximate the 1950s psychologist pretzel of “Well homosexuality is caused by early childhood complexes, so it’s not bad exactly. In fact if someone is happy with their homosexuality then the correct psychological stance is to leave them alone. But if they aren’t, you should definitely try to lead them down the path to true fulfillment through heterosexual marriage and babies!”
This book! Is so much! In every possible way! It’s well-written, and truly quite stressful to read, and also extremely 1955 in all its attitudes. As it’s quite hard to find I’m going to spoil it with gay abandon, so please avert your eyes if you don’t wish to be spoiled.
The book is told in three parts, each organized around an important male figure in Jeremy’s life. The first, of course, is Jeremy’s father, Jordon Stretton. Jeremy’s mother died when he was born, and public opinion in the town is that the grieving widower rejected the poor little mite thereafter, although, Lindop assures us, Jordon actually does love the boy. He’s just such a reserved man that Jeremy doesn’t know it, and he becomes convinced that his father might like him better if he were a girl, culminating in an attempt to become a girl by switching clothes with the neighbor girl Pam - to the absolute horror of Pam’s mother and Jeremy’s spinster aunt, because when the children were changing clothes they must have seen each other naked!
(They are six years old.)
In the end, Jeremy gives up on ever winning his father’s love, and we move on to part two, John Osbourne, named after the headmaster of Jeremy’s boarding school who Jeremy grows to adore. Early on in the sequence, a teacher at the school is sacked for molesting one of the boys; Osbourne wants him prosecuted, but his wife and the other teachers, concerned what this would do to the reputation of the school, convince him to ask the parents of the boy, who out of concern for the reputation of their son want it all hushed up.
Afterward, Osbourne and his wife discuss the incident:
”I appreciate your White Knight attitude,” [says Mrs. Osbourne], “but don’t give yourself complexes about it.”
“I’m not in the slightest danger of getting complexes about homosexuality,” Osbourne snapped.
”It exists in everyone, so we’re told, or rather the possibility of it. It just depends how strong it is, I suppose.”
“Rubbish,” said Osbourne. “It doesn’t exist in decent people.”
But Jeremy adores Osbourne so much that people begin to wonder if Osbourne hasn’t been “monkeying about” with the boy. Osbourne has not, but their suspicions (plus a memory of a sexual encounter with an older boy when he was in boarding school) convince him that he must want to, and it ends with Osbourne jumping off a mountain.
End of part two. Part three is “Louis Presnor.” “That’s going to be either Jeremy’s lover or his therapist,” I deduced, and the fact that Louis Presnor is Jeremy’s happily married Jewish doctor (and also Jeremy is in love with him) probably accounts for the book’s lack of an enduring place in the pantheon of early queer literature.
Presnor comes across as an incredibly kind, dedicated, compassionate man, who wants nothing more than to help… but he’s hitched his wagon to the star of mid-century psychology, which means that he almost certainly won’t help Jeremy at all, except insofar as having a kind, dedicated, compassionate friend is helpful in and of itself.
And what is the mid-century psychology view of homosexuality, you ask? Homosexuality is a result of complexes developed in early childhood, which means that (like any other complex) it’s not wrong, exactly, but simply a maladjustment, and the kind and compassionate thing to do is to help readjust the sufferers so they can experience life’s greatest joy: heterosexual marriage and children. (But also if someone is set in their homosexual ways and seems happy about it you should just leave them alone.)
However, Jeremy is definitely not happy about it, in fact is so unhappy about it that he refuses to even admit to himself that he is homosexual, in fact just married his childhood friend Pam in a desperate attempt to force himself to be straight. So he is a perfect candidate for treatment.
Here, in abbreviated form, let me lay out the path of Jeremy and Presnor’s association.
Jeremy first sees Presnor in a gay bar. He is immediately attracted because Presnor looks a little like his father. (So did Osbourne.)
Presnor approaches Jeremy on the street. Jeremy punches him in the face, even though he knows that Presnor is a doctor who hangs out at gay bars for… compassionate reasons? (This is not really credible but somehow feels credible in the world of the book.)
Jeremy ends up agreeing to treatment, only to realize that he has fallen in love with Presnor, and he flees in terror because of course Presnor will reject him if he ever finds out.
Jeremy takes a woman prostitute friend to Paris to attempt once again to be straight! This does not work. (The woman prostitute is obsessed with history and so is her ex-con boyfriend and they want to start an antiques business together. I love them.)
Jeremy comes back and confesses to Louis Presnor that he is in love with him and Presnor is like “Ah, yes, transference.”
Jeremy can’t bear to go back to his wife, so Presnor then invites Jeremy to live in his house to continue treatment! Also, Presnor has not been charging for treatment at all. Again, this massive overinvestment really shouldn’t be credible, and reading it in summary like this I have no doubt some of you are thinking “Is Presnor in love with Jeremy?” But the overwhelming feeling I get from Presnor’s characterization is that if he did realize he was in love with Jeremy he would be like, “Ah, yes, countertransference.” Just totally chill about it.
At dinner in the Presnor household, Presnor’s mother-in-law Mrs. Goldstein cheerfully asks, “You are homosexual, I expect, Mr. Stretton?” Jeremy is deeply embarrassed, but over time, “The Presnor household’s matter-of-fact acceptance of inversion had an extraordinarily soothing effect on him. It was a relief to shed all attempts at deception.”
(“Acceptance?” you say, doubtfully. “But isn’t Presnor trying to cure him?” Oh yes he is. Accepting your homosexuality is the first step to curing it. Like alcoholism.)
But Jeremy grows despondent as his treatment seems to lead him only to fall deeper in love with Presnor, and he runs off for a few weeks with a bad news jerk guy. All seems lost - when Jeremy’s father shows up! Presnor has told him all!
(“But doctor-patient confidentiality?” you say. Look, book doctors didn’t hear of such a thing until at least 1995.)
Jeremy’s father is actually extremely kind! He apologizes for all his failures as a father, assures Jeremy that he has always and will always love him, and begs him to come home.
Stunned by this un-looked-for acceptance, Jeremy decides that the only thing for it is to kill himself.
He goes back to the flat he shares with his wife Pam intending to stick his head in the oven, only to discover that Pam has tried to kill herself with an overdose of aspirin!
In a panic, he calls Presnor, who discovers that Pam is still alive and indeed not in any danger.
Humbled, Jeremy recommits himself to life and to treatment. “I know I’ve been a hell of a nuisance to you and I may have seemed ungrateful - but you did offer me friendship, don’t forget.”
“I shan’t forget it,” Presnor said.
And FIN.
“Is it a good book?” you ask. Reader, that depends what you mean. Is it readable, is it engrossing, does Audrey Erskine Lindop grow strong on the tears of her readers? Yes. Is it a fascinating evocation of its period, from which you will learn many interesting things about 1950s attitudes toward gender and sexuality? Also yes.
Does it contain opinions that you, a reader in the year of our lord 2023, will agree with? Absolutely not. I feel confident that no matter what your opinions are, they do not approximate the 1950s psychologist pretzel of “Well homosexuality is caused by early childhood complexes, so it’s not bad exactly. In fact if someone is happy with their homosexuality then the correct psychological stance is to leave them alone. But if they aren’t, you should definitely try to lead them down the path to true fulfillment through heterosexual marriage and babies!”
