“Forty years ago he was Slightly in Peter Pan, and you might say that he has been wholly in Peter Pan ever since.” Kenneth Tynan (writing in 1953)
Noel Coward, ‘the master’, is one of the most remarkable figures in the history of twentieth century entertainment. Prodigiously talented, he blazed a trail through theatre, film and song on both sides of the Atlantic. In the theatre he wrote hit plays like The Vortex, Private Lives, Hay Fever, Cavalcade and Blithe Spirit. On film he wrote the war classic In Which We Serve and the timeless love story Brief Encounter. His songs, which number into the hundreds, include ‘Mad Dogs and Englishmen’, ‘I’ll See You Again’, ‘A Room with a View’, ‘The Stately Homes of England’ and ‘Mrs Worthington’.
His greatest creation may even have been himself – what Time called ‘a sense of personal style, a combination of cheek and chic, pose and poise’. This led to his increasing celebrity on American television in the 1950s and in a series of wildly successful one-man shows in Las Vegas, not to mention his popularity as a character actor in the last decade of his life. But as this shrewd biography shows, Coward also suffered, throughout his career, from accusations that he was squandering his gifts for the sake of superficial acclaim. Was his merely ‘a talent to amuse’? Rather than allowing such a claim to stand, this biography reveals the man as an innovator, enduring influence and immortal in the worlds which he sought to conquer.
‘Highly readable … a valuable addition to the growing body of Cowardiana.’ Los Angeles Times
Sheridan A. Morley (5 December 1941 − 16 February 2007) was an English author, biographer, critic and broadcaster. He was the official biographer of Sir John Gielgud and wrote biographies of many other theatrical figures he had known, including Noël Coward.
Morley was the eldest son of actor Robert Morley and grandson, via his mother Joan Buckmaster, of the actress Dame Gladys Cooper.
Four years ago I bought a first edition of Noel Coward's second autobiography, Future Indefinite (1954), for $2 at a charity book sale. Later, at home, I opened it and saw written in great flourish across the title page an authentic inked signature by Noel Coward. I was thrilled to say the least, but the clash of desires between possessing such a treasure and selling it for much-need funds eventually led to its being sold for $85 to a London theater director who was staging a Coward play and had been desperately searching for a signed copy. Needless to say, I never got to read it.
It probably doesn't matter because to really learn about the man we can't rely on the three autobiographies he wrote, however witty and observant they may be. We have to turn to other biographers.
Coward, penned by Coward's first biographer, Sheridan Morley, should, in theory, be one of these definitive sources, but it turns out to be a bit of a sticky wicket. This slim volume from 2006 is the last of several books Morley wrote about his longtime friend, Coward, the first being the first authorized bio of the man in 1969. Morley died in 2007 after having written more about Coward than any other biographer, including several books, articles and intros to Coward's own works.
It's obvious that Morley was close to his subject, perhaps too close. He seems conflicted in this book between guarding Coward's cherished memory and writing an honest biography.
In Morley's intro to this one, he asks the reader why the world should need yet another biography of Coward when the field is so full. His answer in justifying the book is that he has more to say about Coward, things he had not before said. But, in fact, this is a fairly generic biography. Efficient rather than scintillating or inspired. Overall, the writing is competent rather than accomplished. One almost feels that this must be a rehash or Cliff's Notes version of all the other bios Morley wrote on Coward. It's a good primer to and rundown of Coward's career, with not a whole lot of insight into the man or evocative scene-setting of his life and times. Coward's gayness is alluded to often, but not really explored, partly, it seems, out of deference to Coward's own choice to remain closeted in his lifetime but also, I suspect, to not overemphasize it at the expense of his accomplishment.
It would be misleading to say I didn't learn a lot from reading this; I'm glad I did. It's a good overview of Coward's career; a fast and easy to read primer. It will serve as an appetizer for the other bio I own, Noel Coward, by Philip Hoare, which is undoubtedly definitive (based on passages I've read) and richer in period and scene detail. One thing I really liked about Morley's book was the liberal interspersal of Coward's song lyrics throughout the text.
I would recommend this as a "quick-study" version of Coward's life and career. But if you want something deeper, go elsewhere.
This book chronicles the subject’s professional artistic life, but I get no feeling for the man’s private life. It seems to be written from a deep remove. The author mentions a diary and two autobiographies, but he doesn’t go into them at all. He apparently know Coward personally, but it doesn’t appear that the author interviewed the subject for the book. Reading the book seems like reading Wikipedia in more detail about the subject’s public life. I am left wanting much more.
Although this book gave many accurate details of the various productions in which Noel Coward was involved - either as writer, actor, director, and composer, I'm afraid it did not give me much insight into Noel Coward's character. The book was well-written, but it did not interest me greatly and displayed little of the wit Noel Coward always infused into his own writing.