This biography is very worth a read for any Dahl fan. There is just something very small that holds it back from being a 5-star read. Maybe it’s slightly too short or surface-level? That is part of the appeal - I believe Matthew Dennison specialises in concise biographies - and he does go into detail in places, but it is not a deep, thorough historical account.
The biography’s main focuses - a) Dahl customarily fictionalising his life (either in letters or published volumes) to make the truth more interesting, b) his childhood and time at Repton boarding school, c) his RAF service and accident, and d) his family tragedies: his son being struck by a car and needing intensive surgery, his daughter’s death from measles (due to their only vaccine going to the compromised son!), and his wife’s protracted illness from a stroke - were mostly stuff I knew already, although there were lots of extra details I didn’t know. The main thing I learned from this was how disillusioned Dahl was in his writing career for much of his life! Despite success and positive reviews, there were long periods of modest income, and he often felt insecure in face of his wife Pat’s more successful acting career. It is humbling to know that a literary giant felt this way. It was towards the end of his life, when he remarried, that he got a good run of what are now seen as his classics, especially Matilda and The Witches.
Dennison’s analysis of Dahl’s novels is the book’s most satisfying strength. He aptly identifies that Dahl has a starkly Dickensian black-and-white morality: characters are either very, very good, or disgusting lickspittle grotesque monsters. Dennison argues that Dahl carried this mentality into his daily life too, which leads me on to the next point…
…that his portrait of Dahl is unappealing at times. That is not to say Dahl was not capable of charm and great kindness, but the volume makes other things equally unequivocal. His determination to be free, independent, and better than everyone else gave him a customary arrogance. He frequently flouted the didactic rules espoused in his books - Dennison points out the irony of George’s Marvellous Medicine’s vilifying the grandma for being “grumpy and bad-tempered”, when he was often those things himself. Another irony I thought of is that, in ‘Lucky Break’, Dahl says “the writer who thinks his work is marvellous is heading for trouble.” Dennison makes no bones about the arrogance of Dahl’s views of his work (215), only accepting criticism or rewrites very begrudgingly, to the extent that his agent Alfred Knopf said that his lack of civility was beyond anything he had known in his career. (208)
(Apparently, he mellowed after marrying his second wife.)
He also had an emotionally detached, ‘actions-better-than-words’ manner that scorned any self-pity. Dennison argues that Fantastic Mr Fox and Danny the Champion of the World were self-indulgent “amazing-father” wish-fulfilment narratives - that were partly deserved…but not 100% accurate. His own daughter, Lucy, is described as believing her father to have a “lack of empathy for teenagers”. Dennison describes Dahl’s emotional absenteeism as “blind to Theo’s unhappiness” and even partly responsible for his 16-year-old daughter’s cocaine addiction (205).
Yet you know the phrase about throwing the first stone - because he was also a total hero. His kindness and generosity to young readers of his books - especially deprived or seriously ill children - was extensive (223). He founded the Wade-Dahl-Till valve. His attentiveness to his family was beyond question, regardless of any stoicisms of manner. And he withstood trauma and violence of which most of us can only dream, endured long disillusionment and hardship, yet through sheer persistence revolutionised children’s literature and produced some of the most iconic and valuable novels ever.
And Dahl’s allergy to bullshitting was quite amusing. He hilariously referred to one of his early works as “that ghastly book” (lol). This part at the end is also quite funny: “The Witches also prompted accusations of misogyny. Roald was unperturbed.” It’s as simple as that! Shrug it off, move on, ignore the nonsense with a wry quip. That is the Dahlesque way. I find it admirable.
This book encourages a true relish for both Dahl’s character and his work, warts and all, and that is what makes it truly successful. My prior view of Dahl as a hero did not change after reading this, even if some inconvenient truths were brought home in the process. If anything, I wish it were longer and even more detailed! But then some biographies go into too much detail and end up being ghastly…so maybe Dennison did strike the right middle ground.