Lost Years (46 page)

Also on the 10th, Christopher went to the Vedanta Center to say goodbye to Swami. He left for India next day, taking three of the nuns with him—Sarada, Barada and Prabha. This was Swami's second return visit since his arrival in the States in 1923. His first visit, with Sister, had been in 1935.

On November 8, after a lapse of nearly three months, Christopher made an entry in the journal. After noting that this is his personal Initiation Day—initiation by Swami in 1940, becoming a U.S. citizen in 1946—he resolves to keep up the journal more regularly,
to write three articles he has promised, to get on with the Patanjali book and with his novel.
²⁵
“This summer has been really disgraceful. I don't think I can ever remember having been so idle, dull, resentful and unhappy. . . . I feel sick, stupid, middle-aged, impotent. . . . I bore myself beyond tears.”

Christopher also records that, “My life with Bill has reached such a point of emotional bankruptcy that he is leaving, by mutual consent, in a day or two, to hitchhike to Florida to see his sister.” What Christopher calls “emotional bankruptcy” was actually boredom on Caskey's side and frustration on Christopher's. They were weary of being together—though Christopher, as usual, wouldn't quite admit this and left it to Caskey to make a move. One symptom of their weariness was that they had stopped quarrelling. No doubt most of their friends thought they must be getting along quite well together, and were surprised by Caskey's sudden departure. In the journal, Christopher comments: “Will this solve anything? It didn't with Vernon. Well, anyhow, we have to try it.” I don't think that either of them regarded this as the beginning of a permanent separation. But maybe Christopher was half-consciously hoping that now they might gradually drift apart, painlessly and without fuss.

Caskey left on November 11. I can't remember any details of a parting scene; no doubt it all happened very quietly. What I do remember is that that night, after Christopher had returned from a party and gone to bed, he was wakened out of a doze by Jim Charlton. Jim came bounding up the stairs in the darkness, stripping off his clothes, and jumped naked upon Christopher, panting and laughing. Christopher was amused, sexually aroused and deeply touched—the dog had sensed that his master would be needing him. Their lovemaking was the perfect prelude to a happy holiday from Christopher's domestic life.

On November 15 there is a journal entry, complaining of a spell
of hot weather which is making Christopher lazy, of a sore throat which sometimes almost prevents him from swallowing, and of the cost of entertaining people in restaurants while making “infinitely cautious overtures to prospective affairs.” The only “prospective affair” I can identify was [. . .] a very good-looking young actor, who flirted with Christopher over a considerable period but never put out. Christopher's complaints about wasting money in restaurants are actually an indirect compliment to Caskey. For Caskey—despite all his wild outings—had remained a strictly economical housekeeper and a fairly regular provider of excellent home-cooked meals.

The next journal entry, November 18, is mostly about Jim Charlton. Christopher had spent the previous night sleeping at Jim's apartment, down on the beach near the pier. This was a domestic, not a romantic evening. Christopher, who had just given up smoking, felt “somewhat dumb and dazed” and his sore throat “was closed, it seemed, to an aperture the size of a pinhole.” After supper (and plenty of drinks, no doubt) both he and Jim dozed off, waking at 3:00 a.m. just long enough to get into bed. In the morning, Christopher felt happy and peaceful. He adds that his thoughts about Caskey are still resentful “—with a kind of wondering horror: how did I ever stand it? The great thing, now, is to relax.”

Here, for the first time, Christopher tries to describe Jim as a character. I have quoted some of the description already (
see here
).
²⁶
Its tone suggests that Christopher is still rather in love with Jim—and yet this romantic, sexy, amusing, intelligent and considerate lover—friend evidently isn't enough for Christopher. He complains that Jim can't be exclusively loved, because he is a Dog Person and therefore everybody's property. But the truth is that Christopher found Jim too restful, too easy to be with, too predictable to be all absorbing. Sometimes, by way of a change, Christopher would deliberately provoke Jim to anger and once or twice Jim even hit him. But there was never any real tension, never any deep jealousy or clash of wills between them. And Christopher's nature needed tension, much as he hated it when Caskey created it for him.

On November 18, Christopher had supper with James Whale, the film director, his friend David Lewis, and two young makers
of “underground” films, Ken Anger and Curtis Harrington. Christopher could remember Whale as a young cute redheaded actor in a revue at the Lyric, Hammersmith, back in the twenties, but I don't think they had ever met before, either in England or in California, although Whale lived near the Canyon, on Amalfi Drive. Ken Anger (whom Christopher had known since he was a strikingly attractive boy named Angermayer, fancied by Denny Fouts) showed his soon-to-become-famous film,
Fireworks,
which was later praised by Cocteau. Christopher didn't like it and said so, after getting aggressively drunk on Whale's strong martinis. He thereby offended Anger and also (to his great regret) Whale. Curtis Harrington—also destined for celebrity, if not fame—[. . .] had made a short film called
Fragment of Seeking,
which Christopher called
Fragment of Squeaking
.

On November 20, Christopher had supper with Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears, who had just arrived in Los Angeles to give two or more concerts. The reunion was most cordial. Indeed, they both treated Christopher as the one real friend with whom they could relax from the strain of official hospitality. Christopher at once arranged to give a party, at which, he promised, they would meet as many attractive boys as he could manage to collect. The party was held on November 22. A journal entry, made earlier that day, refers to preparations for it. Christopher is jittery—chiefly because he is in the throes of nicotine disintoxication; this is his sixth day without smoking. He still fears that he will have to smoke in order to be able to write, and there is his article on Klaus Mann to be finished, as well as his current installment of Patanjali. Christopher was also jittery about the party, though without much reason, for, as usual, he had shifted the responsibility for organizing it onto someone else—Leif Argo, assisted by another friend, David Robertson. Christopher's only legitimate worries were that he had maybe invited too many people and that he wouldn't be able to remember all their names.
²⁷
He kept repeating them, to reassure himself.

The party wasn't an unqualified success. The house was certainly crammed with young men who were most of them fairly attractive. They danced together or went upstairs and necked. When invited, many had told Christopher that they were eager to meet the guests of honor, Britten and Pears—but, having done so, they quickly lost interest in them. In this gay setting, where celebrity snobbery was replaced by sex snobbery, Ben and Peter were just a pair of slightly faded limey queens, who were, furthermore, too shy and too solidly mated to join in the general kissing and cuddling. The party wasn't really for them, though they politely pretended to believe that it was.

In the November 22 journal entry there is also a reference to an event which isn't mentioned in the day-to-day diary: “It's shameful and petty to have to confess it—but I despise Jim just the least bit for his behavior the other evening. Anyhow, I despise his self-pity over it. Also, he looks so silly, all banged up. But that's unkind, and I must be very careful not to show it.”

On either November 18 or 19, quite late at night, Jim Charlton brought three or four boys over to Christopher's house. They were
all (I think) marines in civilian clothes. After a few drinks, Jim got into an argument with one of them (whom I'll refer to for convenience as Red) and called him, quite casually and without venom, a son of a bitch. Red was sexy, well built and pugnacious. He declared that no one ever called him son of a bitch and got away with it, because that word was an insult to his mother. So he was going to beat Jim up. Jim said they couldn't fight in the house, because of the furniture, or in the yard, because of the neighbors. Christopher tried to calm Red down. The other boys took no sides and didn't seem to care what happened. But Red said that he'd either fight or go to the police and tell them that Jim had propositioned him. Finally they all drove up the hill to the Ocean Avenue park. Here Red hit Jim, who was bigger than himself, again and again until Jim's face was bloody. Jim didn't attempt to defend himself. He later insisted that he had done the only sensible thing. If he had fought back, the fight might well have gone on until a police car drove by, in which case they would all of them have been in trouble. Jim was right, and Christopher was right to feel ashamed of his own reactions. Nevertheless, there
was
something slightly repulsive about Jim's masochistic attitude to Red when they met again in a bar, some days after this. Jim said admiringly: “You certainly beat me up!” Red, like the silly boy he was, didn't unbend. He replied grandly that he'd do the same thing any time to anyone who called him son of a bitch because that word etc. etc.

On November 24, Christopher ate Thanksgiving lunch with the Beesleys and Phyllis Morris. That evening, he and Jim went to a concert given by Britten and Pears, downtown. I believe it was after this concert that Ben and Peter told him that they longed to get away to the country for a couple of days and be quiet. So Christopher arranged to take them on a short trip and he asked Jim Charlton to come along. On the 26th, they drove to Palm Springs and then on to the AJC Ranch, where they saw John van Druten. They spent the night at the Rancho Mirage, ten miles outside Palm Springs. On the 27th, they drove southwest to Mount Palomar (the day-to-day diary doesn't actually say they visited the observatory but I assume they did), then out to the coast at Oceanside, then up to Laguna Beach, where they had supper with Chris Wood and slept at a motel nearby. On the 28th, they drove back to Los Angeles.

I don't have many memories of Ben and Peter during their visit or of this trip Christopher and Jim took with them. Once, when he was alone with Ben, Christopher asked (I suppose in a more or less tactful manner) if Ben ever had sex with other people. Ben said no, he was faithful to Peter, adding, “I still feel the old charm.” Another
memory is of Ben requesting Christopher, quite pleasantly, to stop singing. Christopher would do this for hours on end when he was by himself, repeating the same song over and over. A great favorite was Cole Porter's “Ev'ry time we say goodbye . . .” because he loved attempting the transition in, “But how strange / The change / From
major to minor
.” This was what Ben must have found particularly painful, because Christopher had almost no ear. Also I remember that Jim asked Ben how he composed—maybe he didn't put the question so crudely. Anyhow, Ben didn't snub him but replied: “Well—I think I'll begin with some strings, and then I think I'd like to bring in some woodwind, and then I think I'll put a bit of percussion under that. . . .” (This may well be inaccurately reported and nonsense musically, but it conveys the effect which Ben's practical, unromantic attitude had upon Christopher—who had seen so many Hollywood films about composers that he had lapsed into accepting the notion that they get their ideas by hearing a lark, or church bells, or waves on the shore.)

The trip itself was undoubtedly a success. Ben and Peter loved the desert and the mountains. They became quite schoolboyish, laughing and joking. By the time they had got to Laguna Beach and had had supper with Chris Wood, they were so relaxed that they went over to his piano of their own accord and played and sang for a couple of hours. They both liked Jim. Peter may have found him physically attractive. Anyhow, I suspect that Christopher thought he did—for, when Peter knocked on the door of their two-bed motel room next morning, Christopher exhibitionistically called to him to come in (despite Jim's embarrassment) so that Peter should see Jim and himself naked in Christopher's bed, where they had just finished having sex.

On November 30, Jim and Christopher went to another concert given by Ben and Peter, at the University of Southern California.

On December 1, Christopher finished his article on Klaus Mann. He was quite pleased with the article—and so were Thomas and Erika Mann when they read it. But, in order to finish it, he had started smoking again.
²⁸

On December 2, Christopher had lunch with Ben and Peter, just before they left Los Angeles.

Nicky Nadeau had taken up with an immensely rich young man named [Karl] Hoyt. Hoyt had a big house in Bel Air. On December 3, he called up and asked Christopher if he would care to come around that evening. Hoyt's casual tone made Christopher suppose that he was being invited over for a few drinks with the two of them, and possibly a snack in the kitchen, later. So he didn't change his clothes or even put on a tie. But, when he drove up to the house, he was staggered to find himself in a line of cars which were being directed to parking places by several uniformed cops. Inside, a band was playing, and there were crowds of elegant guests, including some movie stars—the first person Christopher set eyes on was Hedda Hopper. Christopher was embarrassed and furious—especially when Hoyt and Nadeau greeted him in tuxedos. But he couldn't, wouldn't retreat—and very soon he was unembarrassed, drunk and talking to Gloria Swanson. I remember that evening as a prize specimen of the Hollywood social booby trap.

On December 4, Christopher had supper with Jim. Afterwards they went into a bar called the Variety which was on the Pacific Coast Highway, not far from Jim's apartment. They had visited the Variety many times before this; hitherto it had [been] a mixed bar, chiefly heterosexual but with a tolerated minority of homosexual customers. That night, however, Christopher and Jim realized at once that it must have changed managements or adopted a new policy, for it was completely and obviously homosexual. Shortly after their arrival, the bar was raided. The cops went around taking the names of the customers. Christopher gave his name, then asked, “What's this all about?” He was at once told he had to come along to the police station. Jim had to come with him.