The novelist Paul Bailey, who died in October aged 87, was acclaimed for his humorous talent, intense sympathy extending to his deeply imperfect creations, and a cleverness that avoided being sterile. His novels frequently delved into the power of memory in shaping lives, propelled by witty, staccato exchanges. Apart from fiction, he was also an autobiographer, verse writer, and other capacities—this is an overview to the volumes he authored.
Bailey was an outgoing person, a skilled communicator with a love for lighthearted gossip, according to a fictional persona. He and friend fellow writer Beryl Bainbridge would watch Coronation Street and debrief by phone. This fondness for chatty conversations is evident in his fictional works the novel Trespasses (1970) as well as Peter Smart’s Confessions (dating to 1977). The two present a main male protagonist besieged by comic, maddening, theatrical individuals, frequently family members whose gravitational pull is unavoidable. “What’s so great about being normal?” asks the mother of Ralph within Trespasses after he discloses his homosexuality. Like an evening with your most clever, daring companion.
The novelist penned excellently regarding elderly life, early and late in his career. His debut novel At the Jerusalem (published in 1967) traces the life of Faith Gadny as she adjusts to an old people’s residence, where fellow residents offer warmth lacking from staff, who show interest by asking “Why aren’t you ladies watching the television?”. Within his second-last book Chapman’s Odyssey (2011), a senior in hospital moves between disputing with medics (“I only drink superior wines”, he insists after reprimands over liver tests) and confronting past remembrances involving his mum, partners, classic characters such as Pip from Dickens or Emma from Austen. Both books contain comic interactions but marked by approaching finality. In Bailey’s fiction, smiles are deceptive. In At the Jerusalem, “the matron beamed, then stopped suddenly”; Faith Gadny chuckles anxiously when confronted about her behavior. In that novel, Harry cautions that “my smiles aren’t what they seem”. The audience’s grins, though, are real.
In addition to fiction, The author excelled as a talented life writer, issuing two personal accounts. An Immaculate Mistake (from 1990) is a masterwork of reminiscence, its title derived from his mother’s words labeling him an “accident” and questioning his presence. (“Aged, she was releasing her confidences,” he comments. “This one, she knew, would be of particular interest to me.”) This book reveals the roots of misguided, loving, frustrating parents throughout his books. It also paints a beautiful image of a homosexual young man in the 1940s–50s, when homosexuality was illegal, and his kin viewed it as suspicious that a son would purchase flowers for his mum; and of an aspiring actor (Bailey acted preceding his literary career) who memorized Hamlet at 15. His follow-up autobiography A Dog’s Life (published in 2004) concentrates on existence alongside his mixed-breed dog Circe, his previous lover David, his affection for Romania—which motivated later novels like Kitty and Virgil, Uncle Rudolf, as well as the book The Prince’s Boy—and plenty of gossip, featuring an anecdote involving author Iris Murdoch calling an audience member a “foolish person”.
Bailey’s novels are mostly concise—the notable Old Soldiers (from 1980) is just over 100 pages—but for something shorter, try his poetry in his final phase. The pair of volumes Inheritance (published in 2019) and Joie de Vivre (2022) display Bailey’s wit, empathy, precision in brief format. These writings are full of endings and beginnings. Two romantic motifs repeat: for his mother (“I’m closer to you now – / I need to tell you – / than I ever was in life”) and for his civil partner Jeremy Trevathan. Within the poem Amazement, he describes the happiness from viewing “a silly TV show” as a couple, concluding with: “It’s remarkable, this simple act of consuming cheese and wine as darkness falls.”
It is widely accepted that the author’s most expansive book is Gabriel’s Lament, shortlisted for the Booker prize in 1986. (He also judged the prize in 1982, an experience he despised.) This was the book Paul Bailey valued most, although “it drained me. It took everything out of me”. It relates Gabriel Harvey’s story, with a missing mother and a father who becomes an unbearable snob upon receiving money, and the events may link. It serves as a portrait of 20th-century London, an account of psychological collapse, and equally humorous and sorrowful similar to his entire output. Additionally, it prompted a subsequent book, Sugar Cane (1993), that he investigated by visiting brothels as an observer.
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