In which the 1920s lesbians live happily ever after
May. 5th, 2026 02:04 pm39. Paying Guests, by EF Benson, 1929, novel, 4/5
Not as good as Mapp and Lucia, obv, but a similar comedy of manners on a smaller scale and featuring the residents of a superior guesthouse in a 1920s spa town, including far too much detail about the game of bridge, a pop at the cult of Christian Science, a grumpy retired colonel, and happy lesbians ever after. This is a 3.5/5 read for me but I've awarded Benson 4/5 for effort in successfully publishing a lesbian romance with a happy ending in 1929.
I borrowed what appears to be an entirely unauthorised reprint, which contains no copyright information, and fails to credit the cover image, and has a blurb on the back that sounds as if it was written by an international English speaker:
"The story is set around the Wentworth mention" [sic - mansion / pension?] "and its owners and lodgers, usual and recognizable [sp.] Benson's characters [sic]. They are quite unlikable, mainly upper-middle-class English people who came to the Spa to cure their body illnesses [sic], but also to fill the time and escape boredom despite having no passions, interests and work." [/don't hold back, just tell it like it is, lmao]
41. Secret Lives, by EF Benson, 1932, novel, 5/5
If Paying Guests is actually The Lesbian One then this is almost The Gender-Swapping One. A working class spinster is moving up the social ladder through her own hard work and with the assistance of her profit-focussed German publisher, her unWodehousian butler, and a newspaper gossip columnist who isn't what s/he seems. Raises Benson's very versatile flag in territory somewhere between his own Mapp and Lucia, the Jeeves stories, and popular "women's" fiction. This is subtler, more humane, and less viciously satirical than Benson's in/famous earlier novels about social climbing. The author amuses himself, and us, by repeatedly showing that lowbrow populist romantic adventure novels are beloved of socially useful types such as tradesmen and servants, while being mocked by those of a more exclusive social class who aspire to a higher culture despite failing to put in the work necessary for intellectual achievement. There is a perhaps surprising depth in this exploration of the value and ethics of literature, but Benson's novels are often more complex than I remember them and sometimes deeper too. I continue to admire his intricate plotting.
The fictional novel title Julian Beltravers is, of course, a parody of Ernest Maltravers (earnest bad-traverse) by Edward Bulwer Lytton.
Heart's Queen is possibly Queen of Hearts by Wilkie Collins, but there are other contenders, although: "I’m sick to death of novels with an earnest purpose. I’m sick to death of outbursts of eloquence, and large-minded philanthropy, and graphic descriptions, and unsparing anatomy of the human heart, and all that sort of thing."
Couldn't identify Amor Vincit, unless it's Robert Benchley's Love Conquers All which I don't know enough to judge, but love of various kinds does conquer in Secret Lives. And Benchley's humour could have appealed to Benson, "After an author has been dead for some time, it becomes increasingly difficult for his publishers to get out a new book by him each year."
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