A facsimile guide to the Gents Loos of London, with map endpapers, published originally in 1937 by Routledge. Two members of a Gentleman’s Club begin a conversation over a copy of the Sanitary World and Drainage Observer. The discussion turns to where "relief" may be obtained after drinking tea or lager when walking the streets of London. We are told that the "places that have no attendants afford excellent rendezvous to people who wish to meet out of doors and yet escape the eye of the Busy (police)." The book could be read at as an entertaining, straightforward guide to London’s public conveniences but yet to our more skeptical eye it is patently a guide to where men could meet like-minded men in an era when homosexuality was illegal. It remains a classic whether taken at face value or not.
His first successful publication was Limehouse Nights (1916), a collection of stories centered around life in the poverty-stricken Limehouse district of London. Many of Burke's books feature the Chinese character Quong Lee as narrator.
A fantastically amusing guide to London's public toilets, with its fair share of subtext. Basically, two men in a gentleman's club discuss and compare their knowledge of the city's amenities, both talking in an amusingly verbose way given the subject matter. It's an absolute joy from start to finish. This needs to be re-published!
"'Well, well, well. You seem remarkably informed on Wigmore Street.' 'Not only on Wigmore Street, sir, but on many another. Indeed, I may say that I have made a study of this recondite matter. And necessarily, since my favourite drink is either Pilsener or Münchner.' 'Pilsener or Münchner — ha! Fresh and flavoursome drinks, both of them. When I was younger I indulged in them myself, both here and in their native cities'." (p. 4–5)
While I'm no expert on Thomas Burke, I have read more by (and about) him than the average joe. And never have I come across anything that would even suggest that he was gay. Thus, when I saw this book billed as a "queer classic" guide to 1930s London men's rooms catering to men who were more interested in fellow users than the provided urinals, my bullshit detector went red.
And, unless I am missing out on some depression-era fey anglicisms, it is bullshit. This is nothing more than a light, witty discussion of the distribution of public restrooms in London. Never is one compared to another, save for convenience or visibility; all are treated as equals in providing the public with relief. The closest Burke comes to talking tea rooms is with this quote about a certain style of restroom: "... that have no attendants afford excellent rendezvous to people who wish to meet out of doors and yet escape the eye of the Busy (police)." Alas, he notes that these have been shut down by police.
Nothing to see here. I'm sure this book's path to publication involved a wager and considerable claret.
This book is more of a historical oddity than a good literary story. It is apparently a guide to the London “cottages” of the 1930s, which some people have found to be made obvious by the subtext, though I couldn’t find it even though I was looking. I just read it as a fictionalised guide to gents’ public loos.
The whole thing is one conversation between two men in a gentleman’s club. They are merely ciphers, not characters with any depth. Which is fine in a work so short which describes the locations of public conveniences, with an occasional deviation. One man drinks tea and is old and upper middle class, the other drinks lager (before lunch!) is young and lower middle class, but self-educated. That’s their entire personalities.
It would have been more interesting if I knew London better, or had been able to decode the queer subtext. But I’m glad I have it
Could have been a lot more interesting if it were executed better. At least I learned that Czechoslovakia was originally Czecho-Slovakia, i.e., the country of Czech and Slovak people.