One-Upping Elizabeth Smart

Before I Even Got to Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

John Warren

London: Scorpion, 1979

Elizabeth Smart Burned and Banned?

Reading The Dead Seagull last week, I turned repeatedly to By Heart, Rosemary Sullivan's very fine life of Elizabeth Smart. The biographer devotes seven pages to George Barker's book, a work she describes, quite rightly, as having a 'profound and complex misogyny' lying beneath its surface.

By Heart is recommended, not only the story of Smart's extraordinary, but for the glimpse it provides of an Ottawa that is no more. In this city the Smart family enjoyed a position of influence and privilege due to father Russel, a lawyer. Elizabeth Smart's mother, a society hostess known as Louie, considered By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept a work of 'erotomania', and famously set her copy aflame. But, as Sullivan tells us, she didn't stop there: 'Louie had learned that six copies of the book had been seen at Murphy-Gamble's, a local dry-goods store in Ottawa; she immediately rushed down, bought, and burnt those books also. Louie was always thorough. She then approached her friends in External Affairs and requested them to ensure that the book would not be imported into Canada.'

Sullivan suggests that By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept may indeed have been banned in Canada. We'll probably never know; records of publications banned during wartime were frequently destroyed.

Conspiracy theorists, take note: It wasn't until 1981, thirty-six years later, that Deneau published the first and only Canadian edition.

One wonders what Louie Smart would have thought of Library and Archives Canada and their 'Canadian Writers' display, located a mere two kilometres from the former Smart family home. Here we find not only images of the book she so hated, but also pages from the manuscript.

Barker's Bird

The Dead Seagull

George Barker

New York: Farrar, Straus & Young, [1950]

Not a Canadian novel, but worthy of mention in this narrowly focused blog as a sort of companion to By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept, Elizabeth Smart's account of her tortuous relationship with English poet Barker.

Consider this his side of the story.

The nameless narrator, a poet protagonist, looks back on his brief marriage to Theresa. Theirs was a steady, staid, serene relationship, one rocked by 'the other woman'. 'Marsden Forsden stepped out of a Venetian ceiling and into our hospitality', the narrator tells us. The entrance is no accident. Like Smart, her model, Marsden has fallen in love with a poet through his verse, and has attended dozens parties in hopes of meeting him. Eventually, Marsden contacts Theresa, conveniently an old school friend. Barker's hero is easily seduced. Moments before their first kiss, she tells the man who is to become her lover, 'It was your book. When I read it I sat down and wrote one exactly like it.'

Catch that?

'...I sat down and wrote...'

Not wept.

Barker's second and last novel, its plot may be trite, but the use of language and arrant displays of obsession, loathing and vainglory make for a rewarding, if disturbing, read.

Cassandra Pybus wrote about The Dead Seagull as her contribution to Lost Classics (a personal fave). She recalls coming upon the novel in a pile of bargain books and being 'astounded to read that Barker was describing the exact same passionate travail as Smart.' She adds: 'I have never heard another [sic] thing about this book.' No doubt. By Grand Central Station has acquired iconic status – and has been drawn upon repeatedly by Steven Patrick Morrissey* – while Barker's book is more than forty years out of print.

Trivia: Barker and Smart shared the stage reading from The Dead Seagull and By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept at a 1980 Glasgow writers' conference. Imagine the discomfort.

A Bonus: The working title was Of Love.

Object: A handsome hardcover with dustjacket designed by Humphrey Spender. The religious tone set by the allusion to St Sebastian continues on the flap copy: 'It is a tragedy, told more as it might be poured out in the confessional of the Roman Catholic Church than in the more traditional modes of the English novel. Its subject is love; but it is also original sin, in the sense that Cardinal Newman wrote "We are all implicated in some dreadful aboriginal calamity". The theme of The Dead Seagull is that this calamity is love itself.' Note that Spender's arrow touches the right pectoralis major (opposite the heart), but does not pierce the skin.

Access: Universities and the ever reliable Toronto Public Library. I've spotted a paperback edition once or twice in our used bookstores, though no online Canadian bookseller offers the book. Very good copies of the true first, published by John Lehmann, can be had for as little as US$25. While the American first is currently listed online at US$20 to US$75, I bought my copy a couple of weeks ago at a Manhattan bookstore for US$15.

* See 'Reel Around the Fountain', 'Shakespeare's Sister', 'The Headmaster Ritual', 'Well I Wonder', 'What She Said', 'London', 'Late Night, Maudlin Street', 'Billy Budd, 'Do Your Best and Don't Worry', et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...