Christopher and His Kind by Christopher Isherwood Page B

that he was a quite ordinary boy of his kind, unworthy of their further curiosity. So they went back to talking English with Christopher. Otto, who didn’t understand the language, was obliged to read their faces, gestures, and tones of voice as an animal does—with the result that he ended by knowing a great deal more about them than they knew about him.
    From time to time, Christopher was apt to become suddenly angered by his own embarrassment over Otto. Then he would blame his friends for it and punish them by exposing them even more mercilessly to the annoyance of Otto’s presence. Those whose ultimatum is “love me, love my dog” are using their pets in the same aggressive manner.
    When defending Otto, I must beware of making Christopher seem too sinister. He was well aware of his masochism and his domineering will; they were part of his survival technique as a writer. He needed to be made to suffer; otherwise, he would have lapsed into indifference and never noticed or cared about anybody or anything. And he needed his will; without it, he would have stopped working and probably have become an alcoholic. His will was a psychological muscle which had been overdeveloped in his struggle with sloth. But too much muscle is better than none at all.
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    At the end of June, Wystan came out to Berlin on a short visit. He had brought with him a proof copy of his first volume of poems, which was to be published that September. The poems were publicly dedicated to Christopher, and Wystan had also composed a personal dedication to him, in dog German full of private jokes. Christopher later lent the proof copy to Stephen, who accidentally crumpled its flimsy paper jacket. Before returning it, Stephen himself inscribed it: “Written by Wystan, dedicated to Christopher, damaged by Stephen Spender.”
    Wystan wasn’t greatly interested in Otto but he did at least pay Otto the compliment of treating him as a metaphysical concept. In a poem which he wrote for Christopher’s birthday in 1931, Otto is the prize for which Christopher is fighting against the powers of Hell. And Wystan declares—with more politeness, perhaps, than genuine optimism:
    The plants have one whole cycle run
    Since your campaign was first begun,
    Though still the peace-map is not drawn
    It stands recorded
    That most of Otto has been won
    To you awarded.
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    Edward Upward (who is called Allen Chalmers in Lions and Shadows ) also visited Christopher in Berlin in 1930, toward the end of August. Edward was Christopher’s closest heterosexual male friend—they had met at their public school and had become constant companions while up at Cambridge. Their friendship had grown out of their admiration for each other as writers. Since both of them were essentially novelists, they shared the experience of writing more completely than Christopher and Wystan ever did. From Christopher’s point of view, Wystan’s poems were like rabbits he produced from a hat; they couldn’t be talked about before they appeared.
    Because of the difference in their sexual tastes, Edward and Christopher had tended to keep their sex lives in the background of their conversation, to be referred to with apologetic humor. They talked about homosexuality, of course; but Christopher was conscious that Edward trod carefully. When he spoke of “buggers” and “buggery”—these were Christopher’s preferred epithets at that time—he did so in exactly the right tone of voice.
    Here in Berlin, Edward felt himself to be on buggers’ territory and obliged to tread more carefully than ever. He did his best to treat both the Hirschfeld Institute and Otto with respect. When they saw how good-looking Edward was, Karl Giese and his friends archly decided that he and Christopher must once have been lovers, despite Christopher’s denials. As for Otto, he flirted with Edward