Benson’s claim to fame is his comic series the Mapp and Lucia novels, gently satirising upper middle class life in (largely) provincial English towns in the period after WWI. He cast his own home in Rye in a starring rôle, and this early Georgian abode, now in the ownership of the National Trust, is probably today the biggest tourist draw in this quaint village as a result. Although the Trust prefers rather to celebrate the building’s earlier inhabitant (and owner), Henry James.
Masters relates that the celebrated and hugely distinguished literary genius James was the first reader of the young Benson’s first draft of his first novel (Benson’s proud mama pressed it on James, a family friend). James was always famously tactful if somewhat ambiguous and vague in his responses to requests for advice. Benson himself showed his manuscript to another family friend who was, unlike James, a best-selling novelist at the time (Lucas Malet, forgotten today) - and actually followed her (Lucas was her pseudonym) useful advice instead. His resulting first novel, Dodo, was a runaway success, tearing through multiple editions in the months after publication, and laid the foundation for Benson’s literary career.
The young novelist wrote about what he knew, and more particularly who he knew - the eponymous Dodo was based on another of his parents’ high-society friends, Margot Asquith, wife of the future prime minister. Margot was at this time a celebrated beauty and personality and readers recognised her as the original immediately. The fact this wicked society satire was written by the son of the Archbishop of Canterbury probably added spice to the mix. Benson had to write Margot an apology. Such was the fame of the novel people started to call Margot Dodo - and Dodo even became Benson’s nickname too (Bosie Douglas inscribed a gift ‘from Bosie to Dodo’).
Which pretty much typifies Benson’s whole career as a charming middling writer and social commentator. Although enjoying high society life he was pretty self-effacing himself (his own mother called him ‘a sphinx’), and Brian Masters does well to produce this readable and entertaining biography of this secretive man. One of the huge ironies is that although Benson is clearly gay, as shown by vast amounts of circumstantial evidence in his life and writing, he consistently suppressed any documentary evidence whatsoever, so it’s impossible today to conclusively identify any definite lovers. This leads Masters to equivocate over whether Benson ever really had sex with anyone (his brother definitely was celibately gay). However I think that a handsome young man such as Benson was to spend two separate holidays (one in Athens, the other cruising the Nile) with the scamp Lord Alfred Douglas (‘Bosie’) is pretty conclusive. Benson also shared the lease on a villa in the gay hotspot of Capri with two other gay men, Somerset Maugham and John Ellingham Brooks.