Paul Bailey, who died in October aged 87, was celebrated for his humorous talent, profound compassion extending to his deeply imperfect creations, and an intelligence that never felt cold. His fiction repeatedly investigated the influence of recollections in shaping lives, driven by clever, syncopated conversations. In addition to storytelling, he was also a memoirist, poet, and more—this is an overview to his enduring literary legacy.
Bailey was a social being, a master conversationalist fond of lighthearted gossip, as one character notes. Alongside pal fellow writer Beryl Bainbridge used to view Coronation Street and analyze it telephonically. This fondness for chatty conversations appears within his books the book Trespasses (published in 1970) as well as Peter Smart’s Confessions (1977). Both feature a main male protagonist surrounded by comic, maddening, theatrical individuals, frequently family members whose impact cannot be avoided. “Why would anyone desire normality?” Ralph’s mum questions in Trespasses when he reveals he is gay. Similar to spending time with your most clever, daring companion.
Paul Bailey authored excellently regarding elderly life, at both ends of his writing journey. His initial fiction At the Jerusalem (1967) details the journey of Faith Gadny as she adjusts to a nursing home, where fellow residents offer warmth lacking from staff, who show interest via queries “Aren’t you watching television?”. In his penultimate novel the title Chapman’s Odyssey (2011), an aged patient alternates between arguing with doctors (“I only drink superior wines”, he states following criticism of his liver) and being flooded by memories from his parent, romances, fictional icons including Pip by Dickens and Emma by Austen. The two works contain humorous dialogues yet shadowed by impending endings. In his stories, smiles are deceptive. Within At the Jerusalem, “the matron smiled, shut the smile off quickly”; Faith Gadny chuckles anxiously upon challenge to her conduct. In that novel, Harry warns that “my grins are misleading”. Your laughter, nonetheless, is sincere.
In addition to fiction, Bailey was a gifted memoirist, publishing two autobiographies. An Immaculate Mistake (1990) stands as a masterpiece of reminiscence, the heading taken from his parent’s remark calling him “our error” and saying he shouldn’t exist. (“She was old now, and letting go of her secrets,” he notes. “This secret, she realized, would intrigue me.”) Within these pages appear the sources of misguided, loving, frustrating parents within his fiction. It also paints an evocative portrait of a boy discovering his sexuality in that era, when homosexuality was illegal, and his kin viewed it as suspicious that a son would purchase flowers for his mum; and of a hopeful performer (The writer was on stage before writing) who memorized Hamlet at 15. His follow-up autobiography A Dog’s Life (published in 2004) concentrates on life with his mongrel puppy Circe, his former partner David, his fondness for Romania—which motivated later novels like Kitty and Virgil, the title Uncle Rudolf, plus The Prince’s Boy—and heaps of rumors, including a tale regarding Iris Murdoch dubbing a participant a “foolish person”.
The author’s fiction tend to be short—the powerful Old Soldiers (1980) is under 100 pages—yet for an even briefer option, try his poetry from later years. The pair of volumes Inheritance (2019) along with the title Joie de Vivre (released in 2022) display Bailey’s wit, empathy, precision in small packages. These poems are full of mortality and existence. Two love themes recur: for his mother (“I’m closer to you now – / I need to tell you – / than I ever was in life”) and for his partner Jeremy Trevathan. In that piece, he describes the joy of 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 Paul Bailey’s boldest work remains the novel Gabriel’s Lament, shortlisted for the Booker prize in 1986. (He was a Booker judge in 1982, an experience he despised.) This work Bailey felt proudest of, although “it exhausted him completely”. It tells Gabriel Harvey’s story, whose mother vanishes and a father who becomes an insufferable elitist after inheriting wealth, and the two might be related. It acts as a representation of the city in that era, an account of psychological collapse, and equally humorous and sorrowful similar to his entire output. Additionally, it prompted a sequel, Sugar Cane (1993), which the author studied by attending brothels to observe.
A travel enthusiast and writer based in London, sharing cultural insights and personal adventures from across the UK and beyond.
