The novelist Paul Bailey, who died in October aged 87, was acclaimed for his comic brilliance, deep empathy extending to his deeply imperfect creations, and an intelligence that never felt cold. His fiction repeatedly investigated the influence of recollections on human existence, driven by clever, syncopated conversations. Apart from fiction, he worked as a poet, memoir writer, and additional roles—this is an overview to the books he left behind.
The author appeared as a social being, a master conversationalist who adored lighthearted gossip, as one character notes. Alongside pal fellow writer Beryl Bainbridge used to view the serial drama Coronation Street and discuss it over calls. This pleasure in gossipy exchanges shines through in his books the book Trespasses (1970) and Peter Smart’s Confessions (dating to 1977). The two present a main male protagonist surrounded by humorous, irritating, exaggerated personalities, often close relatives whose impact cannot be avoided. “Who wants to be normal anyway?” Ralph’s mum questions within Trespasses when he reveals he is gay. Similar to spending time with your smartest, cheekiest pal.
Bailey wrote brilliantly about aging, at both ends of his writing journey. His initial fiction At the Jerusalem (published in 1967) traces the journey of Faith Gadny as she adjusts to an old people’s residence, where other occupants supply compassion missing from caregivers, whose concern via queries “Why aren’t you ladies watching the television?”. In the novel before his final Chapman’s Odyssey (2011), a senior in hospital alternates between clashing with physicians (“My wine selection is exclusive”, he insists following criticism of his liver) and confronting past remembrances from his parent, romances, fictional icons including Pip by Dickens and Emma by Austen. Both books contain funny exchanges but marked by impending endings. In Bailey’s fiction, laughter is suspect. Within At the Jerusalem, “the matron grinned, then ended it abruptly”; Mrs Gadny laughs nervously upon challenge to her conduct. In Chapman’s Odyssey, Harry advises that “my smiles aren’t what they seem”. Your laughter, nonetheless, is sincere.
In addition to fiction, Paul Bailey served as a skilled autobiographer, issuing two personal accounts. the memoir An Immaculate Mistake (1990) stands as a masterpiece of reminiscence, its title derived from his parent’s remark that “You were our mistake. You ought not to be here, by rights.”. (“Elderly, she disclosed hidden truths,” he notes. “She understood this would captivate me.”) Within these pages appear the roots of flawed, caring, annoying mothers and fathers within his fiction. It also paints a beautiful image of a gay youth during the mid-20th century, when homosexuality was illegal, and his relatives considered it strange that a son would purchase flowers for his mum; and of a hopeful performer (Bailey acted prior to authoring) who could recite Hamlet as a teen. His second memoir A Dog’s Life (published in 2004) focuses on days with his pet Circe, his ex-partner David, his fondness for Romania—which inspired subsequent books such as Kitty and Virgil, the title Uncle Rudolf, and the book The Prince’s Boy—and loads of chatter, including a tale involving author Iris Murdoch labeling a listener an “idiot”.
Paul Bailey’s books are mostly concise—the powerful Old Soldiers (published in 1980) is just over 100 pages—yet for an even briefer option, explore his poems from later years. The pair of volumes Inheritance (from 2019) along with Joie de Vivre (released in 2022) showcase his cleverness, sympathy, exactness in small packages. These writings are full of death and life. Two romantic motifs repeat: regarding his mum (“I feel nearer to you now—/ I must confess—/ than when you lived”) and for his spouse Jeremy Trevathan. In Amazement, he describes the joy of enjoying “foolish television” side by side, concluding with: “It’s amazing, somehow, to eat cheese and sip wine while the world darkens.”
There is little debate that Paul Bailey’s boldest work was Gabriel’s Lament, shortlisted for the Booker prize in 1986. (He also judged the prize in 1982, an experience he despised.) This work Paul Bailey valued most, although “it drained me. It took everything out of me”. It follows the narrative of Gabriel Harvey, whose mother vanishes and a father who becomes an unbearable snob following a financial windfall, and the events may link. It acts as a representation of the city in that era, a story of mental breakdown, and as funny and sad similar to his entire output. To continue, it led to a sequel, Sugar Cane (from 1993), which the author studied by going to such places to watch.
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