I was less than fifty pages into this first volume of John Betjeman's Letters when I felt I must be in for an attack of tinnitus. I kept hearing shrieks of laughter. This condition was caused not by the poet himself but by the editor or Candida Lycett Green, his daughter, who seems to value nothing so much about her father as his ability to make people split their sides. She establishes that this was the way he first got on in the world. In his student days, invited to the august homes of his friends, he confronted hosts who considered him to be 'not quite a gentleman'; one of them was Lord Rosslyn, but his guest's ability to make Lady Rosslyn laugh saved the day, and the Rosslyns' young daughter was won over by the same method. And on and on it goes. Anthony Powell remembers that when they were both staying with the Longfords 'John made everybody laugh.' 'Betch made me laugh,' attests Pamela Mitford. 'Throughout our lives, whenever we met, we always burst out laughing,' corroborates John Summerson.

LRB 8 December 1994 | PDF Download