A different Barry Humphries, without the glittering spectacles and feral grin.
Almost without exception, obituaries for Barry Humphries, the Australian humourist who died this week, have dwelled on his drag performances as that paragon of vulgarity, Dame Edna Everage, or his incarnation as Sir Les Patterson, a shambling ignoramus in urine-spotted trousers who purported to be Australia's Minister of Culture.
Another Humphries was on show elsewhere, if one knew where to look. Comic writer, actor, painter, bibliophile, scholar of art and literature, he could wipe off the grease paint and, fifteen minutes later, deliver a lecture on the painting of Charles Conder with the aplomb and erudition of an art historian. Unfortunately he'd found, like numerous Australians before him, that there was more money in playing the fool.
He shared the enthusiasm of S.J. Perelman for antique words and obscure brand names. A "Biographical Note" in the programme for his 1966 one-man show Excuse I claimed he'd attended a small suburban kindergarten run by one Mrs. Flint. "It is to his traumatick experiences in her Canadian bungalow that he attributes his subsequent predilection for galleon firescreens, buffalo grass and Fowler's Vacola apparatus…." The same programme mentioned "his 250-page volume Bizarre…drawn from his own collection of curiosa," a startling catalogue of grotesques, mutilations, tattoos and freaks of nature.
I met Humphries a few times, notably in the bookshop of Nicholas Pounder, on the fringe of Sydney's red-light district, Kings Cross. Literary oddities collected at the Pounder shop like wrecks in the Sargasso Sea, so I wasn't surprised, dropping in one morning, to find him poring over a copy of David Barton-Jay's The Enema as an Erotic Art. Praised by the Village Voice as "an art director's dream…from its subtle cover to its carefully chosen illustrations," this gem had somehow evaded the eyes of those dedicated to keeping Australia clean.
News of such a publication was bound to travel. A few days later, a columnist in the Sydney Morning Herald described it in lubricious, though inaccurate detail. He said it was bound in rubber - which was untrue - but also (which was true) that it had been sold to the city's premier dominatrix, known pseudonymously as “Madame Lash”.
Nicholas and I were discussing this new development in the shop the following morning when a white chauffeur-driven Jaguar Mark V pulled up outside, and Barry Humphries emerged. Wearing a three-piece suit the colour of curdled cream and a furry fedora to match, he strolled, cane in hand, into the shop.
"I read in the Herald," he drawled, "that you have a rather interesting piece of anal erotica. May I see it?"
Nicholas explained that it had been sold.
"Pity," Humphries said. "Could you get me another copy?"
"Might be difficult," Nicholas murmured. "Out of print…prohibited import…"
"Hmm, I see," he said. Glancing at the shelves, he asked "Any Firbank? Carl van Vechten?"
I knew Nicholas had a copy of Bizarre, and seized the opportunity. Grabbing it, I asked "Would you mind signing this?" He did so with some surprise; most people proffered programmes and wanted him to sign as Dame Edna. His almost courtly inscription -"Acknowledged as his own work by the compiler and pseudonymous author…"- fitted that other Humphries, hidden by the gaudy spectacles and feral grin. I expect "tribute acts" are already waiting in the wings to follow in those footsteps, but the other Barry Humphries will be harder to replace.
John your tribute and story about the 'other' Barry was wonderful and so true. I first met him in London after one of his Dame Edna Everage shows in the early 70's as he was a friend of my first husband, a journalist. He made sure we got front row seats and I swear he deliberately speared spat at me and embarrassed the hell out of our newly married life. And off course I got one of his gladys thrown at me as a wedding gift to take home to Earls Court - It was my first encounter . But yes I did later meet the real amazing man he was. He had a love hate disposition towards Australia. Thank you .
Great read. I knew a little of his achievements but now to the degree you shared, so thank you. My husband knew since the 70's.