Haunts of the Black Masseur: The Swimmer as Hero

by Charles Sprawson

A lustrous examination of life in the water from Percy Bysshe Shelley to Esther Williams.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Philosophy, Sports, Memoir, Nature, Travel

320 pages, Paperback

First published October 27, 1992

Reviews

[George Ilsley · Rating 4 out of 5]

A strange fluid hybrid of literature, mythology and sociology. Strange that some of the writers mentioned are among my favourites, yet I never noticed the water/swimming obsessions (and I self-identify as a swimmer).

When this book lost me I always blamed myself. I started reading the last chapter first, the one that is supposed to be about Japan, and yet ends up in North Africa. Then I read the whole thing from the beginning.

The author, an Art Historian, seems to skirt around the merely salacious: that people can be drawn to beaches and swimming because it is an opportunity to see others wearing very little. There is some mention of voyeurs, but I'm referring to something a little less formal, yet no less motivational.

[Eric Byrd · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not the singular and esoteric one-off classic I was expecting. Mostly anecdotes and bookchat. I wish he’d kept up the tone of this early passage:

For some years we lived in Benghazi, not far from the old Greek city of Cyrene. We spent every Christmas among its ruins, the only guests of a ghost of a hotel among fir trees. On Christmas Day we made a ritual of bathing in a natural rock pool, long and rectangular, its sides encrusted with mollusces and anemones, where once Cleopatra and the Romans reputedly swam. The waves broke against one end, and beyond them, beneath the surface, lay most of the remains of the classical city. When we dipped our masked faces into the water there emerged on the corrugated sand mysterious traces of the outline of ancient streets and colonnades, their sanctity disturbed by the regular intrusion of giant rays that flapped their wings somnolently among the broken columns as they drifted in from out of the shadowy gloom of deeper water. Fragments of sculpture, bases of fountains became scattered around our flat, used as doorstops and bookends.

[Andy Miller · Rating 3 out of 5]

A quirky little book about swimming over the centuries, mainly through the lens of literature. The author focuses on writers whose love of swimming and the water found its way into their stories and books. Some such as Byron were accomplished swimmers; Byron swam the Hellespont in 1810, a swim through dangerous currents that today requires a pilot boat. Edgar Allen Poe and Jack London were also accomplished swimmers who incorporated swimming into their literature, many, many writers of different cultures are included, all sharing anything from an interest to an obsession with the water

The title, Swimmer as Hero, describes the them of the book, Sprawson celebrates the swimmer as an athlete whose character is superior to the non athletes of the world and the swimmer whose intellect is superior to the non swimming athletes in the world.

The problem I had with this book was that this theme extended to Germany in the 30s. Many pages are devoted to Riefenstahl's film on the 1936 Olympics described by Sprawson as "an act of almost religious devotion" and "Like Hitler, she wanted to revive the German sense of myth and magic, mystical aspirations that she symbolised in the image of the diver." Hitler himself is depicted as a patron of the theme of the book, about the romantic spirit of the athlete, including that of the swimmer. Sadly, Sprawson makes no mention of how Riefenstahl's and Hitler's romanticism of these traits were used to help set the foundation or excuse that helped cause or at least justify crimes as horrible as any in our history.

To a certain extent the same can be said of the chapter on Japanese swimming in which Sprawson glorifies the militaristic Japanese spirit that spawned the Japanese swimming success, again the romanticism of this militaristic tradition makes no mention of its tragic and horrible consequences

Perhaps I am being a crank about those two chapters, other readers may argue "It's a book about SWIMMIMG" But, Sprawson's book sets a high bar for itself with its philosophical ruminations about the swimmer as a hero with in depth research and analysis to support the theme, it's disappointing to me that he did not extend that same rigor to his Romantic treatment of German and Japanese swimming that is clearly intertwined with later consequences

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book - through the lives of Shelley and others, through the smoky glass of the crystal aquarias of the late nineteenth century - captures the mystery, danger,and eroticism of the world below the water's hermetic skin. A poignant read about eccentrics who, dissatisfied with brief visits underwater, stayed too long.

[Alice Kuzzy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'd give this a 3.5 - despite having chapters, for the most part, this book lacks structure and, like water, flows between references to various historical figures.
It is poetically written, and contains a lot of fun facts relating to swimming, but at times simply loses my attention. But would recommend to any keen swimmers out there all the same!

[Kirsten · Rating 2 out of 5]

Byron ist über den Hellespont geschwommen, Shelley ertrank, als seine Yacht von einem Sturm im Golf von Spezzia kenterte und auch Swinburne war ein begeisterter Schwimmer. Im 19. Jahrhundert erlebte das Schwimmen in Großbritannien nicht nur bei den Schriftstellern eine Wiedergeburt. Die Briten waren schon früher begeisterte Schwimmer. Für Römer und auch Wikinger waren Wasser und Schwimmen selbstverständlich. Der Untergang des römischen Reichs war auch der Untergang des Schwimmens und diese Pause dauerte Jahrhunderte. Charles Sprawson führt in seinem Buch erzählt in seinem Buch die Geschichte des Schwimmens vor und nach dieser Pause.

Es ist eines der Bücher, das mir in den letzten Jahren immer wieder begegnet ist. Ob in einem anderen Buch übers Schwimmen, oder in einem Gespräch mit anderen Schwimmern oder im Internet: ich habe nur Gutes darüber gelesen und gehört. Deshalb waren meine Erwartungen hoch und das Vorwort von Amy Liptrot hat diese Erwartungen noch ein bisschen höher gesetzt.

Am Anfang wurden die Erwartungen auch erfüllt, gerade was die frühe Geschichte von Schwimmen und Schwimmern angeht. Aber nach den ersten Kapiteln kam für mich nichts Neues mehr. Vielleicht habe ich schon zu viele Bücher zu dem Thema gelesen, gerade was Berühmtheiten und ihren Bezug zum Wasser angeht, ist irgendwann alles erzählt. Das war die eine Sache, die mich gestört hat. Die andere war, dass der Autor fast nur über Schwimmer geschrieben hat. Frauen im Wasser wurden nur am Rand erwähnt, wie zum Beispiel, dass Zelda Fitzgerald als Schwangere den Swimmingpool verlassen musste.

So sehr ich mich bemüht habe, ich habe keinen Zugang zu dem Buch gefunden. Es lag nicht nur daran, dass ich viel Bekanntes gelesen habe. Hauptsächlich hat mich die Art gestört, wie das bereits Bekannte erzählt wurde.

[J2e · Rating 5 out of 5]

This ought to be recognized as a classic cultural history. It is concerned with, as Sprawson says himself, the swimmer as hero. It isn't a history of swimming (and forget it if you're after sports stars) but an account of the various ways swimming has meshed with culture, since the classical age but really since the late 18th century and the Romantic movement. The associations in the mid-19th century between swimming and homosexuality (uranianism to use the term of the era) may not be obvious but as they emerge in Sprawson's account it all seems so blindingly obvious. There are plenty of other details to hold your attention: the Victorian explorer Mary Kingsley finding liberation in a night swim in the Congo river and Zelda Fitzgerald's passion for swimming haunting F. Scott Fitzgerald's work. Sprawson's real focus is on British literature 1780s-1920s, and it shows a bit, with slightly weaker chapters on America and Japan. That's a minor quibble.

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful read...and I'm not even a water-baby at heart! Swimming for me, a land-based athlete to my bone-and-sinew, has always been associated with goose-pimples & the reek of chlorine...or pebble-beached agonies behind & under a towel contemplating my lily-white skin meeting the briny at temperatures that will freeze-drench my manhood to a button mushroom! But this marvellous revelry by Charles Sprawson about man's (& woman's!) close physical & spiritual relationship with water convinces me that warmer water might make me a Greek demi-god! I had never considered how many great writers & personalities were fascinated by the attractions of water; alcohol, yes!...sea-water or fresh, no! If you don't enjoy this book...I will drown myself in the nearest rocky-pool or reed-choked duck-pond...though Lake Como would be my first choice!...if I can ever get there for a dip!
Last one to the headland is an anchor?!

[Lieven · Rating 2 out of 5]

Long chapters with a lot of summary and mention of historical figures without historical context. Some fun facts though!

[KW · Rating 4 out of 5]

Has made me want to swim every time I pick it up. Made all the more beautiful by reading & listening to pieces about Sprawson's dementia and how he'll roam his care home opening doors, expecting a swimming pool to lurk behind it.

Also led to great conversation on the train with a stranger the other day where we spent an hour swapping stories and swim recommendations.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunning!

[Judith · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm fascinated with swimming and swimming pools. So the NYT Book Review once featured an article about all the most interesting books about swimming. This was one of them. It's an history complete with photos of swimming in different cultures throughout the ages. It's not a book to sit and read through. It's more of an encyclopedia of knowledge about swimming. There will be nothing you don't know about swimming when you've finished this book.

[Esther · Rating 3 out of 5]

Note - not the kindle edition, but the regular paperback entry has no cover image. Sort it out Goodreads. This was a re-read and checking my ol'analogue paper reading lists, I first read this back in 2000. What prompted my revisiting was finding it the subject of one of the excellent Backlisted podcasted and also Andy and John gave a talk at the Shakespeare & Co bookshop about the best books you've never read - which is on youtube - and this was one of their picks. And yes its unique, nothing really like it. Although given the recent rise in popularity of wild swimming, there are a few swimming memoir books out, this is very different. It offers a panoramic sweep through the swimmer as literary figure, whilst taking in authors who were obsessive swimmers - Bryon, Shelley, Swinburne and many others. The amount of detail and research is astounding. But its Sprawsons tone, like a 1950s classics lecturer combined with wry humor which makes this an interesting read.

[Holley Peterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this on the heels of the fantastic "Waterlog" by Roger Deakin but didn't get quite the same rush - still, it's a decent read for those interested in how we began to swim recreationally and competitively. Good section on the Romans' love of water.

[Colette · Rating 1 out of 5]

I officially gave up on this book. I never got into it. I can't even really describe what it's about - historical mentions of swimming? I don't know... I hate not finishing books but...

[Kathleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The principal quality, he continued, demanded of a swimmer is a ‘feel for water.’ He should use his arms and legs as a fish its fins, and be able to feel the pressure of water on his hands, to hold it in his palm as he pulls the stroke through without allowing it to slip through his fingers. Rose believed that like water-diviners, only those succeed who have a natural affinity for it” (13).

“If a swimmer can remain on his rival’s hip, he can be carried along in his surge, inherit the other’s momentum, and also act as an anchor on the man in front” (15).

“The swimmer’s solitary training, the long hours spent semi-submerged, induce a lonely, meditative state of mind. Much of a swimmer’s training takes place inside his head, immersed as he is in a continuous dream of a world of water. so intense and concentrated are his conditions that he becomes prey to delusions and neuroses beyond the experiences of other athletes. This peculiar psychology of the swimmer, and his ‘feel for water,’ form the basic themes of this book” (17).

“For Byron swimming was primarily a muscular activity. Unlike Shelley and Swinburne, he was not intrigued by what lay below the surface. There are no descriptions in his work of underwater scenes. On his final voyage to Athens he would make himself a ‘man forbid, take his station at the railings, and sit for hours in silence,’ but it was the ‘billows’ melancholy flow’ that held him rather than visions of the submarine” (105).

Byron “Despite attempts to achieve some form of mystic union with the spirit of a place—‘Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part of me and of my soul, as I of them’—he realized that he could never really lose his own ‘wretched identity’ and expressed his limitations characteristically in swimming terms” (123).

“Like Narcissus many of the swimmers suffered from a form of autism, a self-encapsulation in an isolated world, a morbid self-admiration, an absorption in fantasy” (134).

“Swimming, like opium, can cause a sense of detachment from ordinary life. Memories, especially those of childhood, can be evoked with startling strength in vivid and precise detail” (135).

“On the whole they reject the material world, respectability, the industrial system and contemporary society. They were generally out of harmony with their age, idealists who felt deeply the futility of life, the contrast between what life is and what it ought to be. It was as though water, like opium, provided the swimmers with a heightened existence, a refuge from the everyday life they loathed” (136-37).

“Through swimming he was transported back to that world of weird ritual and mythology described in his novels” (172).

“Shelley returned crayfish to the Thames after buying them and Haydon was astonished by the paradox of his cruel treatment of women, his consideration for fish” (183).

“Wittgenstein, at Cambridge soon after Brooke, swam in Byron’s pool and was fond of drawing an analogy between philosophical thinking and swimming: ‘Just as one’s body has a natural tendency toward the surface and one has to make an exertion to get to the bottom—so it is with thinking’” (185).

Ernst Junger “But as he trembled on the brink, the prospect of crossing the frontier, of translating his dreams into reality and taking the first step from an ‘ordered life into the disorders of the world’ proved almost too formidable—‘If you stand on a high diving-board and are unused to diving you can clearly distinguish between two persons—one who wants to jump and another who keeps drawing back. If the attempt to throw yourself in, as it were, fails, there is another solution. It consists in tricking yourself by making your body sway to and fro on the extreme edge of the board until you are suddenly forced to jump. I quite realized that nothing was more of an obstacle to my efforts to take the first plunge into he world of adventure than my own fear” (220).

“The image of the diver was used by Edgar Allan Poe to express he uncontrollable urge for self-destruction that he believed inherent in everyone. ‘There is no passion in nature so demonically impatient as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a plunge” (242-43).

[Graham Stull · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't read a lot of non-fiction. I find much of it to be clunky, badly organised and badly written. It favours substance over form, as if there were ever a trade-off between the two! Non-fiction tends to pay little attention to the beauty and flow of word and sentences or the cadence of ideas. Worst of all, it lacks kindness to the reader. As in, if you want to know what happens, mate, you will be forced to suffer through my clunky prose.
At first glance, Sprawson's watery account of the literature and history of swimming and all things wet appears to be no exception. By page 100, you realise you have been thrown in at the deep end of a self-indulgent pool of random facts, written by a man whose sole purpose in authorship is to free his head of as much aquatic trivia as he can, so that he might go back to his preferred lake or river and have another dip. Sprawson doesn't even attempt to adhere to his own loose chapter structure - towit, a big chunk of the final chapter, which purposes to tell us about the decade Japan dominated swimming, veers off into an impossibly long tangent about the effeminate French writer André Gide's favourite Gallic watering holes. The hook is that writer Yukio Mishima liked Gide's work.
But beneath this annoying surface, Haunts of the Black Masseur has hidden depths. The very self-indulgence in which Sprawson's writing indulges, is mirrored in the book's theme - the swimmer is submersed, alone, embraced by nature, untethered by the mores of bourgeois society. He does not have to be coherent, sensible or clear. He is free. This common thread is identified in the love of swimming that binds Ancient Greece, the English classicists of the 18th and 19th Centuries, the German Romantics, the Americans and finally (if only briefly) the Japanese.
So if you are prepared to forgive Sprawson his contempt for good writing and allow yourself to be swept up in the current of his delicious, random and sometimes surprising anecdotes, you may just reemerge from the experience refreshed.

[Nicole · Rating 3 out of 5]

A strange but captivating book, author Sprawson details over the course of 300-odd pages how many authors, avid swimmers themselves, depict the swimmer within their written words over the centuries. There is a lot of attention given to the Greeks and Romans but in short order, authors of preVictorian and Victorian era England are included, as are significant mentions to German, American and Japanese contributors. The book is quite dense and is riddled with quotations/references to various works of both poetry and literature to such an extent that at times chapters morphed into the realm of a dissertation. This is where the work faltered for me and why it took me nearly a month to complete. Paragraph after paragraph was written almost in a stream of consciousness format, interspersed with comments, quotes, and references. Admittedly half the time I had no familiarity whatsoever with the authors or famous figures mentioned. Which is why the book seems more a work of academia instead of one for pleasure. However, being a lover of swimming myself, I did enjoy the devotion to exploring the role of the swimmer in various forms of art (not only the written word but at times both painted art and film were also discussed), as well as how many authors were committed to incorporating either wild swimming or their version of bathing with their everyday existence. Am I glad I read the book? I suppose because when it comes down to it, one can get swept away in the grandeur of the water in all its forms being enjoyed by others. However, I sense that only swimmers or devotees of literature (particularly the Greek classics or Victorian English authors0 would find this work remotely enjoyable.

[Lorraine · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a vexing book. Its subject matter is deeply interesting, and I very much appreciate that Sprawson seems to have scoured 19th-century literature and letters for all mentions of swimming (paying particular attention to the Romantic poets); I also really enjoy all the descriptions of Greco-Roman baths.

But it's written as if entirely for himself with few transitions between quotations and with a kind of stream of consciousness leaping from topic to topic. It does that thing that 19th century and early 20th scholarship does where quotes are put in quote marks but not cited in any way and everyone is referred to by last name with no context or identifying details which is fine if the last name is Byron and not so much if the last name is Borrow. It ends abruptly. It's also just weird in places; for example, at several points Sprawson uses the word autistic to describe a Romantic poet or two and he seems to be using it to be mean entirely self-absorbed rather than to indicate he thinks they were autistic in our modern clinical sense of the word, but when I did a quick google search of autistic, he seems to be using an earlier meaning in which autism denoted a condition in which fantasy predominates over reality, but it's still an offensive choice to make when that is not what autism means today.

Those caveats aside, I really did enjoy reading the book. It made me long to swim. I love the way that it dovetails nicely with all the reading/researching I'm doing for my class this fall on 19th century British poetry and prose.

[Asya · Rating 4 out of 5]

At the beginning of this extraordinarily erudite study, Sprawson describes how some decades ago, stuck teaching at a Saudi Arabian university, miles from any water, he stays up into the night on his roof, reading all the books he can get his hands on, and reading them for one thing only -- references to water, swimming, and bathing. One has the feeling that Sprawson has never stopped, and his obsessional reading (plus swimming) has resulted in this awing study of the cultural history of swimming, from antiquity to the glamorous poolside life and blue films of Hollywood. There may be spots where the narrative flags or the references pile up without much of a thrust forward; where the nostalgia gets heavy-handed (this is especially uncomfortable in the Leni Riefenstahl section), but the richness of the references and Sprawson's ability to pull together the various swimmers is astounding. He sets out to tease out the psychology of the swimmer and his/her feel for the water. He admirably accomplishes both. A must for any obsessional swimmer's library.

[Elalma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un libro sulla bellezza del nuotare, del tuffarsi dell'essere un contatto con l'acqua e quanto tutto questo abbia influito sulla letteratura, sullo spirito di uomini e donne temerari, forse un po' pazzi, romantici o amanti della natura e della solitudine.
Il nuoto è stato riscoperto dai romantici inglesi dell'ottocento che l'hanno ripreso dalla grecia classica e dall'antica Roma. Per tanti secoli non si parla di nuoto, è solo dalla fine del settecento che il nuotatore è diventata una figura emblematica, pronto alle sfide più dure ma anche al contatto perfetto con la natura. Dall'ottocento inglese si passa ai primi del novecento tedesco, alla repubblica di Weimar, ai filmati di Leni Riefenstahl che riprendono i tuffi alle Olimpiadi del 1936. Quando poi approda in America, il nuoto pare come la soluzione alle nevrosi: da Cheever a Tennessee Williams (il titolo del libro è il titolo da un suo inquietante racconto) ad Arthur Miller per il quale Il nuotatore cominciò a impersonare i troppo sensibili alle promesse della vita, i perennemente scontenti del mondo che mal si adattano ai compromessi. Per il nuotatore gli ordini rituali della vita quotidiana sembrano assurdi perché intollerabili. Ci sono poi le curiosità su Johnny Weissmuller e le performance di Esther Williams, ritratta in copertina mentre esegue un perfetto tufo a cigno, le estrosità delle piscine di San Francisco. Per finire, gli incredibili giapponesi, per i quali il nuoto era perfino un modo di fare la guerra.
Per me è perfetto per chi ama il nuoto e la letteratura, da leggere lentamente in riva al mare, in modo da potersi tuffare quando non si resiste alla tentazione.

[Katherine Austin · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is actually one of the crazier books I have ever read. I learned about it when I read a "sketchbook" in the NY Times by Gary Clement
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/08/21/bo...

Basically the author Charles Sprawson is obsessed with swimming, the sea, lakes, ponds, fountains and pools. And diving. He is widely read and shares passages relating to swimming and diving in works by Byron, Austen, George Eliot, Cheever and Yukio Mishima and in Hollywood movies. The ancient Greek and Roman interest in swimming and baths is related. Sprawson tells of the feats of Channel swimmers, olympic swimmers and divers and pearl fishers. If you love swimming and you love books this is a fun treat!

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sprawson treats swimming like an art form. I thought I might find it a bit affected, but he has a way of writing that makes his reverence of water lyrical and sincere rather than pretentious. He effectively takes you on a whistle stop tour through art, poetry, film and Olympic history, pausing for just enough time to tell you something fascinating before breezing onwards to another watery anecdote. I did enjoy it but we ended up floating past some really interesting things (did you know Percy Bysshe Shelley was obsessed with water but couldn't swim but drowned and we're moving on now, keep up!) when I'd have preferred a bit of a deep dive. I do have lots of further reading now though!

[Laura McNeal · Rating 4 out of 5]

Strangely addictive memoir/biography/meditation that traces and connects, it seems, every important swimmer and body of water in history. The first person to swim the English Channel? Check. Esther Williams? Check. Writers you didn't know were swimmers, such as Lord Byron, Tennessee Williams, Yukio Mishima, and Swinburne? Check check check check. One watery fact, vaguely sensual, leads to another, and one person's proclivities and/or tragic death remind Sprawson of the next, and it begins to feel as though Sprawson, and you, are following the advice Andre Gide's cousin Albert gave him: "Every time you see a piece of water in which you can swim, do so without hesitation."

[romney · Rating 4 out of 5]

A history of swimming in literary references. Skewed towards English public school swimmers because these are the sort of people that write books. You only find out a little about the author here and there. Overall the effect is of reading encyclopaedia entries - there isn't really a through line to keep you going - any one paragraph can seem almost unrelated to the next but there is a huge amount of research on show here.

[Virginia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Oppiomani e nuotatori avevano la medesima tendenza a considerarsi degli esseri solitari, remoti, superiori alle menti ottuse e convenzionali; le descrizioni delle loro esperienze si avvicinano a quelle di chi ha appena esplorato un territorio ignoto, e ritorna per stupirci con le sue scoperte. Era come se l'acqua, similmente all'oppio, innalzasse i nuotatori a un'esistenza di livello superiore, garantendo loro un rifugio dall'odiata vita di tutti i giorni.

[Gary Budden · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nicely written and fairly interesting, but not as good as I had hoped. For what it is, I see the appeal, but long chapters describing Eton boys fail to light my imagination. I can’t hate a book for not being something else I wanted though; so let’s say it will appeal to people with an interest in Classical culture, Eton, Byron etc.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my all-time favorite books: a cultural celebration of swimming and the centuries of literature inspired by it. It‘s invigorated me enough to go plunge into the frigid San Francisco Bay every morning. Sprawson‘s only book, but it should count as five, it being packed with incredibly erudite dives into the author‘s lifelong fascination with water and “the swimmer” archetype.

[Chad · Rating 1 out of 5]

The popularity of this book is curious to me. I love swimming and I love books about swimming, so I thought I would love this book. Do not fall for that same trick. This book is a philosophical (actually I'm not so sure how philosophical it is, but I lack a better term) book about how swimming has weaved through the lives of artists through time.

[Trish · Rating 5 out of 5]

Take a dip into the history of swimming as a sport, leisure activity and a place of bliss for many of us. The extraordinary feats of people from all walks of life. This book has stayed with me for years and one I will read repeatedly.