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The Master Eccentric: The Journals of Rayner Heppenstall, 1969-81

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287 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1987

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About the author

Rayner Heppenstall

55 books5 followers
John Rayner Heppenstall was an English novelist, poet, diarist, and a BBC radio producer.

Heppenstall's first novel The Blaze of Noon, was neglected at the time. Much later, in 1967, it received an Arts Council award. He was Francophile in literary terms, and his non-fiction writing reflects his tastes.

Critical attention has linked him to the French nouveau roman, in fact as an anticipator, or as a writer of the "anti-novel". Several critics (including, according to his diaries, Helene Cixous) have named Heppenstall in this connection. He is sometimes therefore grouped with Alain Robbe-Grillet, or associated with other British experimentalists: Anthony Burgess, B. S. Johnson, Ann Quin, Alan Burns, Stefan Themerson and Eva Figes. The Connecting Door (1962) is singled out as influenced by the nouveau roman.

He was certainly influenced by Raymond Roussel, whose Impressions of Africa he translated. Later novels include The Shearers, Two Moons and The Pier. He also wrote a short study of the French Catholic writer Léon Bloy.

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Displaying 1 of 1 review
Profile Image for MJ Nicholls.
2,315 reviews4,930 followers
March 24, 2026
Author of crime histories, memoirs, poetry, and experimental novels (peaking with The Blaze of Noon), Heppenstall was an eclectic writer who never quite slotted into one literary flange. These journals are cranky, full of reactionary views on overpopulation, homosexuality for the working classes (to stop them breeding), and affectless takes on the suicides of colleagues, such as B.S. Johnson and Ann Quin. The one recipient of his affection is his son, who has an accident in the mid-70s, while his wife escapes scot-free without a wisp of tenderness. There are frequent entries when the miserable author plans his own suicide each time his wife is away, plans cut short when his own ill-health polishes him off prematurely. These journals have certainly ended my interest in this priggish, caustic curmudgeon’s work.
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