A Voice Through a Cloud

Discovering Denton Welch

Category: Adulthood

Dashing in Denton’s shoes

July 10, 2020 /

I recently had the opportunity to recreate part of the journey that Denton makes to Dr Easton’s house in A Fragment of a Life Story. Touchett (Francis Streeten) persuades Denton to see a religious film with him at the parish hall, but Denton loathes the experience. Overcome with “the horror of living”, Denton pushes his way out and makes his way down into the town of Tonbridge. He reaches the “great black station-yard where the trains were shunting and snorting”, but the station-yard is no longer visible from the road; it’s hidden by buildings and the road bridge. However, across the road, the library is still easily seen.

Tonbridge public library

On the other side of the road, outside the public library, a youth stood, whistling mournfully and hunching his shoulders. When the youth glares at Denton for staring at him, Denton lets “the wind sweep me on at once.” He crosses over the train track and heads a hundred yards south towards Pembury Road.

St Stephen’s church, Tonbridge

I looked up at the spire of St Stephen’s Church. It appeared to me as a huge sharpened stake, put there by God for an instrument of torture. I imagined a gigantic body hurtling down from heaven and landing on the spike, pierced through the belly, the arms and legs spread-eagled and turning like windmills in their agony.

A policeman sees Denton staring, but Denton hates his friendly greeting and continues south to see the person he loves more than anyone else in the world.

42 Pembury Road, Tonbridge

I started to run up the hill, towards the doctor’s house… I pushed through the dripping bushes at the gate; one of them had an aromatic smell which I shall always remember, for, as I passed, I tore off a piece and crushed it between my fingers.

There’s no longer a gate, and, 80+ years on, I doubt that the bush on the left of the photograph is the same bush . A bolder person than I might have rung the doorbell and asked if it was OK to run round to the drawing room window and peep in, as Denton did. Maybe next time…!

Even all these years later, it’s oddly moving to walk in Denton’s shoes. Many of the buildings that he would have known still exist. Looking at them, knowing that Denton would have looked at them too, brings him a little bit closer.

Finding flow

June 15, 2020 /
Photo by MJ S on Unsplash

In 1940, Denton  moved away from the depressing, functional flat in Tonbridge to a modern concrete box a few miles away in St Mary’s Platt. The war was well underway by now, and Denton was less accessible to many of his friends so his social life shrank. He became quite depressed, and his relationship with Evie came under strain; according to Gerald Mackenzie it was volatile, sometimes even violent, with household items being hurled about.

In September of 1940, inspired by J. R. Ackerley’s Hindoo Holiday and possibly galvanised into action by a bomb exploding yards from his house, Denton made a start on Maiden Voyage. The routine of writing steadily every morning calmed Denton. It gave him a sense of serenity and focus. At the same time, he began his largest art work, ‘Harvest’, which now hangs in the Tate.  

I know nothing about art, and I’m a little worried that I won’t do justice to Denton’s once my exploration reaches that element of his legacy. Is ‘Harvest’ any good? I’ve no idea. I have no idea about the artistic merit of any of Denton’s daubs, but he seemed to sell quite a lot of it during his lifetime, albeit for modest sums. The few pieces that I’ve seen online appeal to me greatly – vivid colour, the ordinary made fantastic, nightmarish in an Alice-in-Wonderland-y way. It seems odd that someone who didn’t care for written abstract seemed quite at home with it as an artist.

It’s a great personal sorrow that so much of Denton’s art work is hidden away in private collections and archives. From what I’ve read, though, Denton does seem to have painted with commercial intention rather than to express himself. His paintings don’t seem to have been created with the hope that someone will adore it or cherish it – just buy it. Self expression seems to have been achieved primarily through his writing. I may change my mind about this impression the more I discover of Denton, but his painting and writing are showing up as two very different animals to me. 

Starting Maiden Voyage seems to have marked the beginning of a much happier, more settled period for Denton. Despite domestic upheaval at the end of 1941 when the Hop Garden burned down, 1942 was one of the most satisfying years of Denton’s life. He had secured patronage for Maiden Voyage, come to the attention of influential People Who Matter, had some poetry published, and his paintings were starting to attract attention. He reflected on the year in his journal.

“This may all be only a beginning, but it means something, and I must go on and on and on.”

An exotic tropical bird

June 13, 2020 /
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

The few years after leaving Broadstairs were difficult times for Denton. He wrote in his journal of “those endless days and nights of 1936 alone and desperate”. He wasn’t alone, as Evie was keeping house for him, but she was a devout Christian Scientist and didn’t believe that pain existed, so probably wasn’t especially empathic. I keep coming back to, and marvelling at, Denton’s youth. Severely injured, just turned 21, with none of the talking therapies or rehabilitation that would be offered today. Surely anyone would find it very difficult to rebuild body and mind following such a major trauma without love and support. JMC makes a passing reference to a suicide attempt soon after Denton moved into Hadlow Road, and I can quite see how this could come about. I can’t imagine why JMC doesn’t tell the story in the biography instead of mentioning it in the notes. It’s not that I want the distressing detail of a young man’s despair, but it’s a significant event. 

Happily, Denton settles down in Tonbridge and builds a circle of friends. Gerald Mackenzie visits regularly. Significantly, Francis Streeton stops Denton in the street to make his acquaintance. Most people in the street today would assume that Francis was a chugger and do their best not to engage, but Denton did. They became friends, but it appears to have been uncomfortably one-sided. Denton was extremely rude about Francis’s idiosyncratic appearance and behaviours, and as far as I can tell Francis was nothing but a good friend to Denton.

Speaking of idiosyncrasy, Ronald Benge, one of his acquaintances, wrote my favourite thumbnail of Denton. Writing to JMC for the biography, he said “One was impressed by his intense interest in everything and everybody. There was, of course, most noticeable this extraordinary vivid quality, compounded by his appearance and high-pitched excitable speech. He was like some exotic tropical bird and his dress was flamboyant, so that some of his acquaintances were embarrassed to be with him in public – the small slight figure limping along and full of spontaneity and laughter”

I love love love this description of Denton! It’s so easy to picture him, perhaps with a cape flying behind him, greeting acquaintances and listening, bright-eyed and inquisitive, to their news. I associate Denton at this time with vitality and activity. Never does he get onto his bicycle and ride it; he always jumps onto his bike and pedals it. I have so much respect for his determination to live life to the full despite his pain and frequent illness.   

1940 saw Denton move away from Tonbridge and the embarrassment of his behaviour towards Dr Easton. A new chapter began, quite literally. Denton began to write Maiden Voyage.

Convalescence

June 9, 2020 /
Photo by Hal Ozart on Unsplash

After four months in hospital, Denton moved to Southcourt nursing home in Broadstairs. In AVTAC he recounts how his mother’s friend, Clare (Irene Dallas in real life) escorted him in the ambulance from hospital to Southcourt. The journey is around 90 miles, with no motorways, so it was quite the long haul. They call briefly into Denton’s room at Blackheath so he can pick up some essentials. Endearingly, Denton doesn’t even think about clothes – his only thought is “which of my treasures do I want to take with me?”. Clare eventually enters in exasperation and grabs an armful of clothes before bustling him back into the ambulance.

Let’s not forget that Denton is still only 20, AND he’s privileged to have been looked after in one way or another his entire life. The people around him have taken care of practicalities like clean clothes and food. All Denton needs to think about are the only things that can still bring him joy; his treasures. JMC’s biography recounts how, even as a ten year-old boy in Shanghai, Denton’s friend Nancy Quinlan recalls that they had to play in the spare room. They couldn’t play in his bedroom because there were “fans, feathers and shells” displayed on tables and they feared knocking something over. Denton became an extremely discerning collector as an adult, but the thought of that little boy’s bedroom crammed to the gunnells with (probably) cheap tat is adorable.

But, Dentonesque, I digress. He spent a few months in Broadstairs, and probably left sooner than he should. One word (OK, two three words): Dr Jack Easton, who appears as Dr Farley in AVTAC. For an author who loves to embellish, it’s interesting that Denton does quite the opposite when recounting his behaviour around Dr Easton. He makes it all sound very dispassionate and brisk, when in reality his behaviour constituted solid grounds for a restraining order. 

The good doctor decides to move to Tonbridge, 60 miles away, to progress his career. Denton can’t countenance life without Dr Easton and decides to move to Tonbridge too. In AVTAC, he presents this as a logical decision – this doctor knows me and my case, so I’ll move to be near him. Of course! Who wouldn’t?

Two days after Dr Easton’s departure, still barely able to walk, he gets on a train and arrives at Dr Easton’s house in a state of near-collapse, requiring a stay in a Tonbridge nursing home to recover. Not the pleasant house hunting day trip with Evie depicted in AVTAC, although the unfinished book ends in the middle of that day. Who knows how honest Denton would have been about his subsequent behaviour had he completed the book? He lurked in Dr Easton’s garden, peered through the windows, broke into his house on at least one occasion, and called him at all hours of the day and night. This obsession lasts for three years. 

Three. Years.

Dr Easton finally writes a much more polite letter than Denton deserves to tell him that their friendship and professional relationship must end.

The surprise is that Denton is normally as brutally honest about himself as he is with his opinions of other people and their behaviour. Disagreeable and vulnerable by turn, he doesn’t flinch from presenting himself in an unflattering light. What prevented him from being so honest on this topic, I wonder? From his journals, it sounds as though 1936 was (understandably!) a desperately unhappy year for him, so perhaps it was just too painful to acknowledge the reality of events.

Happily, life gets better…

Happy days at Goldsmiths

May 31, 2020 /
Portrait of Denton Welch by Gerald Mackenzie Leet, 1935


Today, I’ve read James Methuen-Campbell’s account of Denton’s time at Repton and China, and I’m delighted to have seen him through different eyes. Denton’s account of Repton in Maiden Voyage left few insights to be gleaned from his biography, other than he had teachers called Snape and Tonks. It tickles me to think that JK Rowling’s characters of the same name might have been inspired by JMC’s biography!

Delightfully, JMC’s account of Denton’s time at Goldsmiths is all new information. Denton was clearly very happy there. He finally achieved the independence he’d wanted all his life, moving into a room of his own at 34 Croom’s Hill aged 17. His landlady? Evie Sinclair, with whom Denton lived for most of the rest of his life.

From a slow start at Goldsmiths, Denton built up a circle of mainly female friends, which calls into question my previous comments about his misogynist leanings. Denton’s friend and classmate, Helen Roeder, told JMC that Denton liked to have dumpy little girls around him, which made me smile, and he was seen as very protective and caring. He seemed to feel most secure when he was around women.

In the middle of the Goldsmiths chapter appear some photographs. One of the best parts of any biography is the photographs. I gaze and gaze at them, trying to peep beyond the borders into the space beyond, trying to guess what the people in the photographs are thinking when they’re taken. JMC’s biography includes several photographs of Denton and Eric Oliver in 1946, both individually and together. When you look closely at them, it’s clear that they were all taken on the same day, as they’re both wearing the same clothes in all of the pictures. Presumably Evie is the one taking the pictures*; I wonder what it was about that day that they wanted to remember.

It’s a shame that no colour photographs of Denton exist; by all accounts he was a flamboyant and colourful dresser. His self portraits show him wearing colourful clothes, and Gerald Mackenzie’s 1935 portrait of Denton (presumably pre-hospital) shows him wearing the mustard colour that his mother adored.

Tomorrow’s reading will be difficult. Denton’s unconventional early life made it hard for him to adjust when he finally went to school. After a decade of struggling against fitting in, at Goldsmiths he found security, friendship and ambition. All that came to an abrupt end on 9 June 1935. More tomorrow…

*Update: Gerald Mackenzie took the pictures. He visited Middle Orchard for the day, not long after Denton and Eric moved there, bringing his camera.

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