At the Gaiety
Sir: Although it is gratifying to have one's book reviewed in your columns, I cannot let Miss Nancy Banks-Smith's sneering piece go unanswered when it gives such a false impression of The Gaiety Years. In the first place, I feel justified in having written the book in a simple, rather facetious style which seems appropriate to a portrait of George Edwardes and his world. Passing on from the question of style, I must protest about three important misstatements by Miss Banks Smith.
Her statement that I never mention if any of the artists were any good is quite untrue. I have assessed the work of Seymour Hicks, Ellaline Terriss, Nellie Farren, Teddy Payne, George Grossmith, Gertie Millar, Marie Tempest, George Graves and W. H. Berry amongst many others. Miss BanksSmith bemoans the fact that I am far too nice about everyone except Mrs Edwardes, and totally ignores my chapter about Marie Tempest, the holy terror of Daly's Theatre, and incidents like Henry Irving getting roaring drunk at Tree's first night banquet.
Then she castigates me for piling on the agony when some of the Gaiety artists fell ill. But since this book is dedicated to the men and women who made the Gaiety a British institution, and my foreword says that some artists carried on gallantly until they nearly dropped, it seems only natural that I should stress Nellie Farren's rheuma
tism, which crippled her for life, and Fred Leslie's gastritis, which led to his tragic death at thirty-seven. Finally, I would like to point out that The Gaiety Years is published at £3.75, as any bookseller will confirm.
Miss Nancy Banks-Smith looks back nostalgically to the days when she was a cub reporter, putting carbons in her dear old typewriter. Now that she has become a very experienced journalist, it it time she got her facts right.
Alan Hyman 70 Eaton Terrace, London, S.W.1
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