NATASHA SPENDER
47
against corruption. This legacy was manifest in his repertoire of
pejorative epithets.
"Snobbery"
-yet he himself had vestiges of that
Victorian middle-class attitude "Tradesmen come in by the back door,"
and was too impressed by English titles ("blue-blood" as he called it)
and grea t family fortunes.
"Literary Pretentiousness"
-he was always
looking for evidence of condescension towards the "mystery writer,"
particularly from any writer whose classical education might be better
than his own and, in addition, whose liberation from Victorian values
might allow him mort intellectual adventurousness with new theories
than Raymond's rigid ethic left him free to enjoy.
"Sham and
Hypocrisy"
-his sometimes harsh judgments of others were, one felt,
also part of this legacy.
There were various perennial characters in his more elated fantasic
conversation, all of whom could be seen as representing some anxiety
of his (clearly related to this repertoire of pejorative epithets or to his
hatred of his own Roger Wade alcoholism) which was allayed by the
fantasy. For instance, there was the "posh doctor" in striped trousers,
whose urbanity or superiority were both mocked yet regarded as
formidable; he was hated for "having too much on the ball. " (Striped
trousers were not only formal attire for Harley Street consultants in
1955, but in his youth in England an authoritative figure of a publish–
ing house, also clad in striped trousers, had "thrown him out,"
insulting him by suggesting he wrote cheap serial stories for .a living,
upon which Raymond had left England for ever.) The "posh doctor"
was always eclipsing Raymond in worldiness, success with women,
money, and suavity of manners, and above all was always being
condescendingly stringent, issuing warnings or challenges about
Raymond's excessive drinking. But in these various fantasy encounters
Raymond always got the bes t of it in the end with some brilliantly
delivered insult, after which he would leave the "posh doctor" with
sagging jaw, and go on his way laughing.
There was an English "duke" in his garden as magnificent as Kew,
whose quietly-voiced, politely phrased rebukes to Raymond for his
crude and racy American conversation would at first seem humiliating,
but fin ally Raymond would lay a sophisticated verbal trap, the duke
would falter and fall headlong, the duchess would gaze in admiration,
and Raymond would stroll away refusing all invitations brought by
the footman who was sent hurrying after him.
Sometimes a fantasy figure was superimposed upon a real person
to
whom it bore not even a superficial resemblance; it was useless to
protest about this transformation . Such a one was Cyril Connolly, who
