Lord Dismiss Us by Michael Campbell
Sep. 21st, 2025 06:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
regshoeI also have book reviews to catch up on!
Lord Dismiss Us (1967) is a funny book in several ways. It is a novel about the Problem of Homosexuality in Boarding Schools, and in some ways a reappraisal of the boarding school novel tradition from the perspective of the later, more adult fiction which can deal more openly with homosexuality than those older books did. It takes place over a single term at a fictional public school whose new headmaster goes on a crusade against entrenched 'immorality', with various consequences.
In dealing with the Problem of Homosexuality at Boarding Schools, Campbell manages to pack in almost every manifestation of it you could think of: outright abuse of boys by masters, sweet teenage romance between boys, casual affairs between boys, angsty gay backstory of masters, exploitative relationships between older and younger boys, ambiguous dodgy 'well, there's nothing actually sexual going on but this is definitely dodgy' treatment of boys by masters, &c. &c. The lines are not always drawn in the places that might make the most sense to a modern reader. The most major characters are Terence Carleton, an eighteen-year-old boy in his final term at the school who's apparently had various relationships before but now falls in serious love with a younger new boy, Nicky Allen; and Eric Ashley, a young teacher and E. M. Forster fanboy who is dealing with various difficulties in life to do with his sexuality; but we see a wide variety of characters and perspectives besides these.
It kept reminding me of Mary Renault, which is rather a dangerous thing to say about any book. Fortunately for my peace of mind Campbell is not nearly as skilful or emotionally persuasive a writer as Renault, but he has the same way of describing emotions and relationships in sharp, almost painfully sincere detail while remaining very much detached and sometimes very cynical about them as an author; he also has the same deftly elliptical social subtlety bordering on incomprehensibility, which makes for a fun reading experience.
It is in many ways not a very good book. The writing style was sometimes interesting, in combining some old-fashioned elements like omniscient POV with modern prose style and vocabulary (interesting bit of linguistic history: the word 'yeah' is now in common use but it hasn't yet settled on a standard spelling, being spelt 'yeh' here), but it's also rather jerky and under-described, and the pacing is definitely off. It doesn't seem able to make up its mind how far it's a boarding school story and how far a cynical subversion/complication of boarding school stories: the sincere-feeling parts of it, which are generally in Carleton's POV sections—notably a classic detailed, dramatic and ultimately triumphant cricket match, and double-especially elements of the ending—feel far too straightforwardly sincere to be the tragic juxtaposition with the darker stuff, especially in Ashley's sections, they might seem intended to be. The plot goes to pieces at the end—another thing that reminded me of Renault!—and some of the more tragic events of the ending felt too much like the author manipulating characters towards the ends he wanted to work emotionally. And neither is the book able to commit to making the statements it seems to want to make about the Problem of Homosexuality in Public Schools and how one can and can't solve it.
But it sticks in the mind nevertheless. I rather liked Carleton and Allen's relationship, which is sharply sweet in a way that appeals to me, and there was some potentially-interesting character stuff in there to do with internalised homophobia and religion—I say 'was', this is my attitude before the ending. Ashley's character, and his relationship with Carleton, are the most interesting things in the book. Ashley is attracted to Carleton, possibly partly because he happens to resemble Ashley's schooldays boyfriend with whom things ended badly, possibly partly because he reminds him a bit of his own younger self. Student/teacher does not appeal to me, and this also ends up going to pieces in a somewhat squicky way; but I did feel things could have gone better for Ashley; and as for Ashley/Carleton, perhaps if they'd met again in a few years... (The feeling that this character I like could have done with an author who cared more about them and/or was able to give them a happier ending is also something that reminds me of Renault.) Carleton is a budding writer and I liked the stuff about that—I did love the scene where Ashley goes over Carleton's story with him in line-by-line detail and helps him improve it. I would also like crossover fic featuring Ashley and Piers from A Glass of Blessings, who I think might be able to help him somewhat.
I thought I was going to like Campbell for having Ashley call The Longest Journey 'the most interesting of them all' among Forster's novels; but then that ending involves a reference which would have made me very angry indeed if this had been a better book, and I don't think I do after all.
Also the missing vocative comma in the title is bothering me.
Lord Dismiss Us (1967) is a funny book in several ways. It is a novel about the Problem of Homosexuality in Boarding Schools, and in some ways a reappraisal of the boarding school novel tradition from the perspective of the later, more adult fiction which can deal more openly with homosexuality than those older books did. It takes place over a single term at a fictional public school whose new headmaster goes on a crusade against entrenched 'immorality', with various consequences.
In dealing with the Problem of Homosexuality at Boarding Schools, Campbell manages to pack in almost every manifestation of it you could think of: outright abuse of boys by masters, sweet teenage romance between boys, casual affairs between boys, angsty gay backstory of masters, exploitative relationships between older and younger boys, ambiguous dodgy 'well, there's nothing actually sexual going on but this is definitely dodgy' treatment of boys by masters, &c. &c. The lines are not always drawn in the places that might make the most sense to a modern reader. The most major characters are Terence Carleton, an eighteen-year-old boy in his final term at the school who's apparently had various relationships before but now falls in serious love with a younger new boy, Nicky Allen; and Eric Ashley, a young teacher and E. M. Forster fanboy who is dealing with various difficulties in life to do with his sexuality; but we see a wide variety of characters and perspectives besides these.
It kept reminding me of Mary Renault, which is rather a dangerous thing to say about any book. Fortunately for my peace of mind Campbell is not nearly as skilful or emotionally persuasive a writer as Renault, but he has the same way of describing emotions and relationships in sharp, almost painfully sincere detail while remaining very much detached and sometimes very cynical about them as an author; he also has the same deftly elliptical social subtlety bordering on incomprehensibility, which makes for a fun reading experience.
It is in many ways not a very good book. The writing style was sometimes interesting, in combining some old-fashioned elements like omniscient POV with modern prose style and vocabulary (interesting bit of linguistic history: the word 'yeah' is now in common use but it hasn't yet settled on a standard spelling, being spelt 'yeh' here), but it's also rather jerky and under-described, and the pacing is definitely off. It doesn't seem able to make up its mind how far it's a boarding school story and how far a cynical subversion/complication of boarding school stories: the sincere-feeling parts of it, which are generally in Carleton's POV sections—notably a classic detailed, dramatic and ultimately triumphant cricket match, and double-especially elements of the ending—feel far too straightforwardly sincere to be the tragic juxtaposition with the darker stuff, especially in Ashley's sections, they might seem intended to be. The plot goes to pieces at the end—another thing that reminded me of Renault!—and some of the more tragic events of the ending felt too much like the author manipulating characters towards the ends he wanted to work emotionally. And neither is the book able to commit to making the statements it seems to want to make about the Problem of Homosexuality in Public Schools and how one can and can't solve it.
But it sticks in the mind nevertheless. I rather liked Carleton and Allen's relationship, which is sharply sweet in a way that appeals to me, and there was some potentially-interesting character stuff in there to do with internalised homophobia and religion—I say 'was', this is my attitude before the ending. Ashley's character, and his relationship with Carleton, are the most interesting things in the book. Ashley is attracted to Carleton, possibly partly because he happens to resemble Ashley's schooldays boyfriend with whom things ended badly, possibly partly because he reminds him a bit of his own younger self. Student/teacher does not appeal to me, and this also ends up going to pieces in a somewhat squicky way; but I did feel things could have gone better for Ashley; and as for Ashley/Carleton, perhaps if they'd met again in a few years... (The feeling that this character I like could have done with an author who cared more about them and/or was able to give them a happier ending is also something that reminds me of Renault.) Carleton is a budding writer and I liked the stuff about that—I did love the scene where Ashley goes over Carleton's story with him in line-by-line detail and helps him improve it. I would also like crossover fic featuring Ashley and Piers from A Glass of Blessings, who I think might be able to help him somewhat.
I thought I was going to like Campbell for having Ashley call The Longest Journey 'the most interesting of them all' among Forster's novels; but then that ending involves a reference which would have made me very angry indeed if this had been a better book, and I don't think I do after all.
Also the missing vocative comma in the title is bothering me.
no subject
Date: Sep. 21st, 2025 08:42 pm (UTC)I've seen that in the '40's and '50's!
but I did feel things could have gone better for Ashley; and as for Ashley/Carleton, perhaps if they'd met again in a few years... (The feeling that this character I like could have done with an author who cared more about them and/or was able to give them a happier ending is also something that reminds me of Renault.)
I don't think I'd heard of this book! It sounds fascinating that it exists and frustrating in the format that it does. What does the Renault-style ending do to blow everything including the literary allusions up?
Given the year of publication, is the novel itself set pre- or post-decriminalisation? (Not that it would make a difference to the adolescents in the plot, but I'm still curious: it's such an interesting historical moment for the book to have hit the shelves.)
no subject
Date: Sep. 23rd, 2025 05:55 pm (UTC)What does the Renault-style ending do to blow everything including the literary allusions up?
It's difficult to explain the whole thing! Basically: 1) the pressure of the anti-gay crusade and other forms of homophobia in his personal life cause Ashley to break down and spiral into disaster, including trying to come on to Carleton in a way that's repulsive to the reader as well as to Carleton himself; 2) Carleton and Allen break up and fail to reconcile in a way that involves a lot of frustrating failure of communication and feels particularly authorially manipulative after what came before; 3) Ashley ultimately kills himself—by jumping in front of a train, which I can't think wasn't a knowing reference.
Given the year of publication, is the novel itself set pre- or post-decriminalisation?
I was wondering about that significant date myself! The novel is pre-decriminalisation and makes no mention of decriminalisation even as a possible future development, which I'm not sure what to make of—obviously it was a major topic of debate for some time, but I don't know how far people maybe a year or two before 1967 could have hoped for it to happen soon.
no subject
Date: Sep. 23rd, 2025 07:47 pm (UTC)I'm glad to hear about it! Also speaking of Renault, your Alexias icon is indeed beautiful.
Basically: 1) the pressure of the anti-gay crusade and other forms of homophobia in his personal life cause Ashley to break down and spiral into disaster, including trying to come on to Carleton in a way that's repulsive to the reader as well as to Carleton himself; 2) Carleton and Allen break up and fail to reconcile in a way that involves a lot of frustrating failure of communication and feels particularly authorially manipulative after what came before; 3) Ashley ultimately kills himself—by jumping in front of a train, which I can't think wasn't a knowing reference.
That's a lot! And I can see why not all of it would feel organically inevitable as opposed to authorially imposed tragedy. Ashley definitely needs to talk to someone who has their head on as it were straight.
The novel is pre-decriminalisation and makes no mention of decriminalisation even as a possible future development, which I'm not sure what to make of—obviously it was a major topic of debate for some time, but I don't know how far people maybe a year or two before 1967 could have hoped for it to happen soon.
I have no idea what to make of that, either, but interesting to know!
[edit] It got a reprint by Valancourt as part of their queer classics line in 2014 and I must have missed it because your description is significantly more interesting than their blurb. On the other hand, it means it wouldn't be hard for me to get hold of. I have found some really interesting novels through them.
no subject
Date: Sep. 24th, 2025 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Sep. 24th, 2025 08:41 pm (UTC)It seemed oriented completely the wrong way to everything of interest you described about the book! Looking through their other titles I have read and written about, their blurbs generally seem to be more clickbaity than the novels themselves, which, I guess, thanks, twenty-first century? I do recommend all of them, though. Also I was totally wrong about Forrest Reid because while I never wrote about it, Uncle Stephen (1931) is an unambiguously queer timeslip fantasy that seemed inexplicably obscure at the time when I read it: for fans of Tom's Midnight Garden and Maurice?
no subject
Date: Sep. 25th, 2025 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Sep. 25th, 2025 07:29 pm (UTC)You're welcome! Enjoy or at least find them interesting!
no subject
Date: Sep. 22nd, 2025 12:39 am (UTC)lmao.
I still quite love your comparison to Renault, which opened up my interpretation of the novel, not the least because Campbell could actually have been inspired by Renault. One thing that I don't think we said explicitly in our discussion is that it shares the Renaultian quality of feeling intensely right for fandom, through all of those textual opportunities for fix-it and missing-scene, no matter your persuasion for favorite ship or character.
Here's to keeping it alive and maybe picking up more readers. :)
no subject
Date: Sep. 23rd, 2025 05:59 pm (UTC)intensely right for fandom, through all of those textual opportunities for fix-it and missing-scene, no matter your persuasion for favorite ship or character.
Yes! Like The Charioteer especially there are so many different characters, ships and possibilities to explore. Hmm, well, maybe :D
no subject
Date: Sep. 22nd, 2025 10:55 am (UTC)Also the missing vocative comma in the title is bothering me. - Oh man, me as well!
no subject
Date: Sep. 23rd, 2025 06:03 pm (UTC)The hymn he's quoting it from has the comma! He deliberately removed it! Glad I'm not the only one annoyed by this, lol.
no subject
Date: Sep. 24th, 2025 05:40 pm (UTC)Come on: if John Fawcett could handle the comma, so can you! *shakes fist at Campbell*