I have read biographies of Noel Coward, his autobiography, his diaries and now his letters and the more I read of and about him, the more fond of him I become. I know I keep on saying, probably to the point of tedium, that one's true character shows through in diaries and letters, but I do believe this most strongly. Impossible to hide one's deep feelings and thoughts when putting pen to paper in this way.
This is quite a hefty tome and I had been reading it on and off for a month or two when I suddenly found that I was totally engrossed and read it through solidly for a final week until I had read the entire volume. The letters are fascinating but the way they are presented is slightly odd. The editor, Barry Day, has grouped them together in relation to people and events, so we have a whole section on Gertrude 
Lawrence, right from when they first met until her sadly early death. So to find she is then mentioned in another section further on in the book is disconcerting and slightly threw me. However, this grouping does mean that the reader gets an idea of the relationship with one particular person, or persons, and a volume of letters just in chronological order might have been rather rambling.
He corresponded with John Osborne, Harold Pinter and Arnold Wesker, though he did not have much time for their style of playwriting, but was a witty correspondent who would not be cowed by their somewhat acid comments. Arnold Wesker was a prime mover in setting up 'Centre 42' in which culture was brought to 'ordinary people' and he had tried to get Noel's backing and interest. He was doomed to failure, try as he might.
"I consider that the forming of committees to decide what sort of art and entertainment the masses should properly enjoy is not only presumptuous but fairly silly.......there is no guarantee that your avant garde painters and sculptors and musicians and playwrights are so tremendously necessary to culture as they naturally think they are. Personally I would rather play Bingo every night for a year than pay a return visit to Waiting for Godot".
Wonderful.
Noel wrote to his indomitable mother, Violet, every single week, wherever he was, for her entire life. This sometimes took the form of expensive cables as he was an extensive traveller. The correspondence he undertook, and most of sans typewriter, was prolific and would daunt even the strongest heart at the thought of how many thousands of words he penned in private correspondence let alone that in his professional life. As well as his family and friends, he was in constant touch with producers, agents, musician, actors, singers, writers, all those involved in his productions and at one stage he had five plays in the West End along involving a staggering amount of paperwork and organisation. Noel came up against difficulties and tantrums when dealing with the stars of his shows and it is fascinating to hear his 
opinion of, and read his letters to, such luminaries as Gladys Cooper, Peggy Ashcroft, Sybil Thorndike, Bea Lillie and others too many to name here. When coping with an aberrant performer, Noel's 'finger wagging' was famous, either in a face to face confrontation or when he put pen to paper. These letters were firm and to the point, he did not mince his words and yet, we find that all recipients of such letters stayed friends with him for the rest of their lives. We see an example of this in his dealings with Mary Martin, later to become famous in the stage version of South Pacific, whoc ame over from the States to star in Coward's Revue Pacific 1860 and with her demands and unreasonableness, soon upset the Master so he sent her one of his finger wagging letters. This one, as all the others, ends on a kindly and positive note:
"I am writing to you as a man of the theatre of many years standing who is full of admiration of your personality, charm and talent and who also sees, perhaps more than you realise how many years of hard work, possible disappointments and the humble acceptance of superior knowledge lie ahead of you before you achieve the true reward that your ambition demands ..concentrate on learning, diligently and painstakingly to be the fine artiste your potential talents entitles you to be".
One of the most interesting sections of this collection are the letters and correspondence which took place during the Second World War when Noel, who had been excoriated in the English press for his trips abroad and his spending long periods in the USA, was, in fact, undertaking intelligence work for the British government. The attacks on him were unrelenting and he felt it deeply, but could not reveal what work he was doing but had to grit his teeth and bear it. These letters and the truth of his war time activities only came to light relatively recently.
Noel was a loyal friend. Though his deepest affection was for his his mother, he also took care of his father and his brother Erik, though he did not have much in common with the latter two, but he also gathered around him a second 'family'. Amongst these was Graham Payn, a lifetime companion, Lorne who became his assistant and ran his office and his life for him, Joyce Cary and Gladys Calthorp, his costume and set designer. This second family were with him for over forty years and some of the best letters and witty verses were from Noel to this inner circle. When Lorne died of cancer, Noel was grief stricken:
"Of course, I'd known it was coming but I just couldn't bear to accept it. When Gertie (Lawrence) left us, the shock was cruel and immediate but one had to face it in public. With mum it was one of those inevitable things one has to adjust to but with Lornie it somehow wasn't fair. It wasn't her time!...she was very special and I still can't believe that when the phone rings I shan't hear - 'now then my darling Master, you really must..."
He was undoubtedly a genius wth 'a talent to amuse' but my feeling abaout Noel Coward, and this has been once more reinforced by reading these letters, was that he was a kind man with a loving heart.
His last words the night before he died were to his devoted friends Graham Payn and Cole Lesley "Good night my darlings, I'll see you tomorrow".
I wish there were more letters to come. Perhaps there will be.
