Muse's end

There's a stack of books on my table, waiting for me to finally have the time to read them. Buried in the pile is a birthday present, something I've read before: Maurice. I've also watched the movie version of this book, a Merchant Ivory production starring a very young Hugh Grant, playing a confused but quite appealing Cambridge student.

Maurice depicted the coming of age of two schoolboys, who fall in love with each other. At the end of the day (spoiler alert!), they don't end up together, and one of them (potentially another spoiler alert!) finds his happiness a la Lady Chatterley. (Was that sufficiently cryptic?)

Maurice was penned by E. M. Forster, but published only posthumously, as the general theory was, Forster had issues with his sexuality. Forster wrote a slew of other books also turned into film, including Howard's End and A Room with a View. But, what I didn't know were: Factoid 1, these were all (save for the last) written when he was still in his 20's, and Factoid 2, in the second half of his life, Forster didn't complete a single novel.

Of course, these facts upset me no end, because as a frustrated writer, I can't believe someone so positively bursting with talent would actually choose not to write. Plus, how the heck could someone write so many brilliant novels at so early an age unless, like me, he lies about his age by deducting multiples of ten?

Now, the British press has just reported (no, not that he was lying about his age) but on the mystery surrounding the reason why he stopped writing. Apparently, according to a recently released biography, it's because he was no longer sexually repressed.

The theory forwarded by the biographer, a Ms. Moffatt from Dickinson College, is that Forster's output was prodigious in his 20's because he was closeted and repressed. But, after he lost his virginity at the age of 38 to a wounded soldier while Forster was working for the Red Cross in Egypt (and God only know how all those facts were established), that led to a sexual awakening which stunted his literary output.

In fact, the Daily Telegraph reports that Ms. Moffatt writes (so this is double hearsay) that Forster was so content and so involved in a series of romances with (ahem) working class men that except for a few essays here and there, and his final novel which was published in 1924 (A Passage to India), his career was essentially over in his early 40's.

 The Daily Mail, another Brit publication, even quotes passages from his secret (not anymore!) sex diary, where Forster says: "I should have been a more famous writer if I had written, or rather, published more, but sex prevented the latter." And apparently, plenty of sex he had, as he had affairs with no less than two policemen as well as a tram conductor, and while homosexuality was illegal in England.

The Daily Mail also quotes him as saying "Now I am 85, how annoyed I am with society for wasting my time by making homosexuality criminal. The subterfuges and the self consciousnesses that might have been avoided." (Hey, I didn't know those words could be made plural that way!)

Of course, this revelation leads to a glaringly obvious and uncomfortable issue. No, not whether as a rule, we should burn our sex diaries, (although I would advise 'yes,' since not only are they admissible in evidence, but they've become so out of fashion with the advent of sex tapes) but rather, should one abstain in the pursuit of literary greatness?

Tough question. On one hand, the goal is lofty, with the potential of fame, fortune a la J. K. Rowling, and winning the Nobel Prize. On the other hand, you could end up writing crap, and needlessly suffering many years, even decades, of abstinence. Hmmm.

On this note, it is opportune to reflect on last Thursday's statement by Pope Benedict that the rule of celibacy mandated for priests is here to stay. And just how many priests have won Nobel Prizes? Google reveals nada. So the next issue is, does this mean that celibacy will not necessarily lead to literary glory? Or does it mean priests haven't really been celibate?

 I'll let you draw your own conclusions.

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