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A Dark Horse

The great Roy Campbell heaped wonderful abuse on the nihilist left, though that's hardly the only reason to treasure him.

(Page 2 of 2)

After many hair-raising adventures Campbell escaped from Toledo, and the war brought him back to England, where he enlisted, to see service in Africa. His contempt for the English literary establishment was amplified by witnessing their reluctance to fight the “fascists” with anything more risky than words. On the eve of the conflict with Hitler, Auden and Isherwood had fled to America, as had Benjamin Britten. Meanwhile, the communist traitors enjoyed their comfortable niches in the diplomatic service, working for the “red fascism” that—in Campbell’s eyes—was just as much a threat to their country as the national socialism of Hitler. Stephen Spender was comfortably installed in the civil service, and Louis MacNeice in the BBC. All Campbell could do by way of protest was to write fierce lampoons against the

...fat snuggery of Auden, Spender,
And others of the selfsame breed and gender,
Who hold by guile the fort of English letters
Against the final triumph of their betters…

By the end of the war, however, the Bloomsbury contingent and the fellow travelers had lost their monopoly power over British culture, and Campbell was for a while rehabilitated. He too was invited to broadcast for the BBC, where he became a passionate advocate of his favorite drinking companion, Dylan Thomas: advocacy that led to the latter’s immortal radio drama, Under Milk Wood. Campbell’s autobiography, Light on a Dark Horse, was published in 1950, along with a first volume of his Collected Poems, and a translation of the poems of St. John of the Cross, into which he put all his passionate Christian mysticism, and which has probably been Campbell’s most influential and best-loved work.

At the time of the crash that killed him, Campbell’s reputation stood as high as that of any other living poet. His rough diamond personality and irrepressible storytelling were greeted with amazement in the subdued literary world of postwar London. Although he continued to abuse the left establishment in none too subtle terms—once mounting the podium during a talk by Stephen Spender in order to punch this symbol of upper-class bolshevism on the nose—he was regarded in conservative circles as one of the most important literary figures of his day. To Evelyn Waugh, he was a “great beautiful simple sweet natured savage,” and to Laurie Lee “one of our last pre-technocratic big action poets who, like D’Annunzio and Byron, were not only the writers of exquisite lyrics but whose poetry was part of a physical engagement with life.” He was admired by T. S. Eliot, who published him, by the Sitwells, who idolized him, and by a whole range of writers and artists of a conservative or Catholic persuasion, from Father Martin D’Arcy and Wyndham Lewis to Charles Tomlinson and Augustus John.

Yet today, as Wikipedia reminds us, Campbell is almost forgotten. Few of his writings remain in print, and in British literary publications he is mentioned, if at all, only as the notorious poet who was on “the wrong side” in the Spanish Civil War—the war that was the last defining moment for the British intellectual. The literary London in which Campbell was so brilliant a star has vanished; so too has the manly and mystical Spain that he idealized and that formed his spiritual vision. Visiting Madrid two years ago I was astonished to witness a “gay pride” carnival, sponsored by the left-wing government and the trade unions, in which men in bikinis flaunted their sexuality at the cheering crowds of men, women, and children in the street. In the face of this obscene spectacle I could only regret the passing of Strachey’s “higher sodomy,” which, for all its subversive character, was the very opposite of a mass-market commodity. You would have to travel into the very depths of rural Spain today to find traces of the sweet piety and attachment to the soil that had moved and comforted the Campbells. Spain has been de-consecrated, just as England has.

It took a visitor from Africa, who had been raised among Zulus, to recognize that the bolshevik nihil-ism that threatened Spain in the 1930s was of a piece with the upper-class narcissism that animated the English fellow travelers, and that they would suc-ceed or fail together. The connection that Campbell im-mediately and intuitively understood is confirmed by both England and Spain today. Leftist orthodoxy and sybaritic sexuality both dominate
the culture, and it remains as dangerous as it was in Campbell’s day to pour scorn on either.

Page:   12

About the Author

Roger Scruton is a visiting scholar at the American Enterprise Institute. His latest book is The Uses of Pessimism (Oxford University Press).

Letter to the Editor View all comments (11) | Leave a comment

Hal G. P. Colebatch| 10.12.09 @ 6:51AM

Campbell may also have possibly influenced J. R. R. Tolkien's character "Strider' in "The Lord of the rings." Tolkien described him enthusiastically and referred to him as "Trotter"- the early name for Strider, after meeting him in an Oxford pub while writing TLOTR.

The Australian writer Alistair Kershaw, who knew him well, said Campbell admired George Orwell for having actually fought in the Spanish Civil War, even though on the other side.

He claimed to have been the subject of a miracle - he had vowed not to drink wine till Madrid was taken from the Reds. One scorching hot day he found the water in his canteen had turned to finest wine and he knew Madrid was liberated.

His life, including service in World War II, is full of fascinating incident.

Alan Brooks| 10.12.09 @ 7:34PM

If there is a Heaven (and there had better be one) Roy is in Heaven.
But I might end up in Hell...

Because all my liberal family and friends will be there.

Ken (Old Texican)| 10.12.09 @ 9:14AM

OK to all above....So What? Other than mildly interesting trivia, what nugget of truth have we learned?

John II| 10.12.09 @ 1:49PM

Dr. Johnson tells us that we need more to be reminded than taught, since most of what's most worth learning is of a kind that, on some level, we already know.

Nugget: Commie nihilism belongs in the same stew-pot with upper-middle class narcissism.

I already knew that nugget in a vague sort of way, but being reminded of it makes my work environment among the upper-middle class narcissists who dominate academia a tad easier to put up with.

Hay-el, Ken--it's called liberal education. Don't go tellin' me I've wasted my whole damn life because I didn't devote it to engineering or insurance sales or cattle ranching. I mean, hay-el!

Mary Louise| 10.12.09 @ 10:20AM

By 1927, when he had published the Georgiad, his attack on Vita’s “rural idyll” poetry and on the “literary nancies” who surrounded her, Campbell had made his position socially untenable.

Even in much smaller and very ordinary circles, sacred cows can't be skewered without consequence either.

Jeff R| 10.12.09 @ 11:34AM

Evidently, Americans haven't learned enough about what contributed to the decline of once-mighty Britain.

The same social and moral rot is present in our own culture. It's aided and abetted by the elite in media, academia and the arts, or, otherwise, tolerated.

The catalyst for the rise of English nihilists was the devastation wrought by World War I. Here, a catalyst for American nihilism was the nation's failure in Vietnam. The latter event didn't precipitate the nihilism, but did, indeed, push it along.

Vern Crisler| 10.12.09 @ 11:36AM

Great writing from Roger Scruton.

Richard Baker| 10.12.09 @ 7:18PM

Sounds as if he were describing the Baby Boomers when he referred to a "refusal to grow up."

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james wilson| 3.23.12 @ 12:37PM

Mallock had them on his radar in 1879--"They were a phenomenon new to history: they showed us real knowledge in the hands of real ignorance; and the work of the combination thus far has been ruin, not reorganization. Seeing just too well to have the true instinct of blindness, and too ill to have the proper guidance from sight, it has tightened its grip on the world of thought, only to impart to it its own confusion."

But he was wrong. They were not new. Burke wrote of them--"I will venture to say that this narrow, exclusive spirit has not been less prejudicial to literature and to taste, than to morals and true philosophy. The resources of intrigue are called in to supply the defects of argument and wit. To this system of literary monopoly was joined an unremitting industry to blacken and discredit in every way, and by every means, all those who did not hold to their faction. It has long been clear that nothing was wanted but the power of carrying the intolerance of the tongue and of the pen into a persecution which would strike at property, liberty, and life."

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