The Lady's Not for Burning

By BERNARD LEVIN 'Sim and arse,' said Mr. Mervyn Griffiths-Jones, QC, 'six times apiece.' This unwonted meticu- lousness was something that we were to hear a lot more of before the case was over, just as we were to become more used to Mr. Griffiths-Jones and his ways. But at that time, when the trial was only a few minutes old, we sat up and took shocked notice.

Was this the way in which the first case to be brought against a serious work of literature under the new Obscene Publications Act was to be conducted'? Had the prosecution really employed an able-bodied man (it could hardly, in the light of some of the things Mr. Griffiths-Jones said later, have been a woman) to go through Lady Chatterley's Lover and count the appearances of words all of which you and I and Mr. Griffiths- Jones and Mr. Justice Byrne and every member of the jury knew before reaching the age of twelve? And were they seriously asking the jury in question to condemn the book as obscene on such grounds?

The answer, in each case, was yes. This approach by the prosecution must, I feel, have helped materially to persuade the jury that it was their duty to acquit. If the prosecution could find nothing worse to say against the book than that there are some words in it that are considered dirty, they could not have much of a case. But plainly the 'natter cannot rest there, for the case —some of whose issues are unaffected by its triumphant, proper and eagerly-awaited result— needs to be examined in some detail. And this I now propose to do.

* The jury did true deliverance make. But before doing so, they had to surmount one formidable hurdle. I do not mean the prosecution's case, which was a case of straw; I mean the judge's interpretation of the law in his summing-up. For many weary months, Mr. Roy Jenkins and his associates in and out of Parliament fought to get at least some of his Obscenity Bill into law. Sir Alan Herbert had, it will be remembered, to threaten intervention in a crucial by-election be- fore the Government, as the price of his with- drawal, would abandon its intention to have the Bill stifled in Committee. Amended and weakened but (as we thought) with its substance —the long overdue liberalisation of the law on obscene publications—virtually unchanged, the Bill eventually became the Obscene Publications Act 1959, and its preamble describes it in the noble words `an Act to afford protection to literature.'

But it was the phrase 'for the public good' in the Act, coupled with the insistence of judges in general, and this one in this case in particular, on behaving as though Acts of Parliament are passed in a political vacuum, that might have brought Penguins down. Everybody in the House of Commons, whatever attitude they took•to the Obscene Publications Act, clearly believed that it was designed to make the law, more liberal, more tolerant in this field. Many members, no doubt, condemned it for this reason: but all were agreed that that is what the Act did, and what it was designed to do. and all were agreed when it passed that that was what had now happened.

It might therefore follow that, the law having in time been changed, it should be understood by the courts to have been changed in the direction in which Parliament understood it to have been changed. But this has clearly not happened. Through the doorway in the Act marked 'for the public good' Mr. Justice Byrne proceeded, with the utmost courtesy, patience, lucidity, mod- eration and skill, to drive a coach and four. Under its wheels went the intention of those who flamed the Act, and the understanding of Parlia- ment as to what the Act had done. No matter: this is what the Act says, and what the Act says is what the law must be. Nor is it possible to quarrel with this attitude: the law is indeed what the Act says. But the interpretation of what the Act says is another matter, and surely it is impossible to believe that Parliament seriously intended a defendant to be compelled to prove that his book was positively for the public good. It seems clear, from the parliamen- tary background, that the proof of sufficient literary merit was in itself intended to carry the implication that the book was for the public good. But Mr. Justice Byrne, concentrating on the foreground, insisted to the jury that they had to be satisfied that the literary or other appro- priate merits of the book were so high (his words, and his emphasis) that they outweighed the obscenity and allowed the book to be published in the public good.

Mr. Justice Byrnes's summing-up came after five days of—sometimes in concentrated form, sometimes intermittently—Mr. Mervyn Griffiths- Jones, QC. A wag (the same wag, incidentally, who declared that in the disgraceful physical con- ditions of the Old Bailey, so far from justice being seen to be done, it can be neither seen nor heard to be done) insisted that in the film the part of Mr. Griffiths-Jones must be played by Mr. Eric Portman. It appeared a good choice. Fingering an already well-fingered copy of Exhi- bit One—it looked almost as if it was a dirty book—Mr. Griffiths-Jones employed a vast reper- toire of devices of sarcasm, emotional lan- guage and professions of shock and horror. 'I hope you will not misunderstand me,' he would say heavily, or 'I don't want to enlarge on this,' or 'Do not think for one moment that I am suggesting.' He made a point—several times, too—of the fact that Mellors in the book at one point quotes the psalmic line 'and the King of Glory may come in.' But it isn't "may come in," is it?' asked the thin voice, 'it's "shall come in." ' And this he brought in to, attack the view that Lady Chatterley's Lover is a work of literary merit—because one of the characters in its mis- quotes one word in a line from the Bible! (Mr. Griffiths-Jones was deeply shocked by the context —Lady Chatterley and Mellors were making love —in which a Biblical quotation was introduced. One wonders what he makes of the Song of Solomon.) His choice of readings was inevitably selective (though his attempt to read out the bits he wanted to implant in the jury's mind before the jury had read the book was happily squashed by the judge); but even read as badly as he contrived to read them, most of his selections had a curiously boomerang effect. Looking round the court as he read, one could sec only rapt faces, utterly still hands, people being deeply moved by a great book. Almost all the great sexual episodes of the book came shining across in this way, demonstrating better than any witnesses the integrity of Lawrence's purpose, the beauty, purity and passion of his writing, the contemp- tible nature of the case against his book, the shame and hypocrisy of a country that can prosecute it at ail. When Mr. Griffiths-Jones read one wonderful passage to Mr. Richard Hog- gart lines. describing the aftermath of love- making, and Constance's thoughts at the intimate touch of her lover's body against hers. Mr. Hog- gart had earlier used the word 'reverence' to describe the book's attitude to sex. 'Reverence for a man's balls?' shouted Mr. Griffiths-Jones. 'Yes, indeed,' said Mr. Hoggart, quietly and firmly.

M r. Hoggart, in general, vJas probably the most effective of all the defence witnesses. Patient, clear, brilliantly analytical, transparently honest and honourable, devoted, passionate for truth and learning; he made me reflect that the students of Leicester are fortunate to have such a teacher. Nor would he be put off by Mr. Griffiths-Jones's cross-examination, which was probably tougher towards him than towards any other witness. He even.took some of Mr. Griffiths-Jones's sarcasms and batted them right back to him: when Mr. Hoggart described the book as 'puritanical,' the lawyer said, 'I may have lived my life under a misapprehension as to the meaning of the word "puritanical".' Yes,' said Mr. Hoggart earnestly, and without a trace of triumph, 'many people do have a misapprehension as to what it means.' He then proceeded, simply and shortly, to ex- plain. 'Thank you,' was all the lawyer could say, 'for that lecture.'

It was noticeable that of the early witnesses (he virtually gave up cross-examination entirely before the end). the prosecution left two strictly alone. Dame Rebecca West could eat fifty prosecuting counsel before breakfast; there were no questions to her at all. And when Mr. Forster went into the box, the prosecution was only too glad to get him out again without a single question. But with some other witnesses it was different. 'Oh, do please try to answer my ques- tion,' or 'You're not giving a lecture now,' or, 'I presume you are seriously trying to be help- ful.' Can you by any stretch of the imagination,' Dr. James Hemming was asked, 'describe that as a realistic conversation?' Well,' said Mr. Hem- ming, 'if I were to stretch my imagination . . 'I'm not asking you to stretch your imagination!' Mr. Griffiths-Jones said—though that was pre- cisely and literally what he had asked.

We were to catch other glimpses of the prose- cutor's mind: one—deftly demolished by Mr. Gerald Gardiner in the course of his superb closing speech for the defence--the question, 'Would you like your wife or your servants to read it'?' another, the repeated insistence on the theme of the book being 'immoral' because the' chief characters commit adultery. But worst of all the attitudes the prosecution felt compelled to take up was an anti-intellectual Philistinism.

`Commonsense' was Mr. Griffiths-Jones's only antidote to a bishops to famous authors, to educationalists, psychologists, critics, thinkers of every kind. The jury were to keep their feet planted firmly on the ground,' and not be `led away.' The whole of the closing speech for the prosecution seemed to me to be based, indeed, on a rejection of the very principle underlying the Act—that expert witnesses could testify to the merits of a book. In his summing-up even the judge permitted himself to say, with unconcealed scorn in his voice, `In these days the world seems to be full of experts,' and later to refer to `the rarefied atmosphere of some academic institu- tion.' One must not make too heavy weather of such attitudes, of course. But they were disquiet- ing to hear.

But after a time the prosecution began to fall into perspective. In the first place, the spectacle of people of soch different distinction as Sir William Emrys Williams, the Bishop of Wool- wich, Professor Pinto ('Isn't Lawrence rather a hobby-horse of yours, Professor?') and Mr. James Hough being cross-examined on such an issue is basically a comical one. And, in the second place, one began to reflect that the case itself was so depthlessly contemptible that probably no other approach would have been possible whoever had been leading it. The sight, for in- SPECTATOR, NOVEMBER 4, 1960 stance, of the police witness, Monahan. was pathetic in its revelations of the quality of the case. This, after all, was the man sent out to obtain the (freely-offered) evidence of publication from Penguins and to set the law's machinery in motion. Thin-faced, polite, nervous, Monahan would say things like 'That is within my know' ledge' when he meant 'Yes.' And behind him stood the office of the Director of Public Prose- cutions. Originally, they had intended to. call witnesses (as they are entitled to) to show that the book is not of literary merit, and there Was much speculation as who would show up'. At one point, they had the impudence to ask the Specta- tor for an article written a quarter of a century ago by Lord David Cecil : at another, they ap- proached a director of Fabers to ask, where they could get in touch with Mr. T. S. Eliot" NO°, they seemed to think, might make one of their number. (If they made contact, it is clear that the GOM sent them contemptuously away.) In the end, as the world knows now, and as many of us were sure long before the case began, they produced no single witness to say that Lawrence's book was not of great literary merit. How could they? For a witness to rank as an expert, he had to have some qualifications. and if he had some qualificatiOns he presumably knew enough to know that Lady Chandler's Lover is a great book.

And in the end, the yahoos were put to flight' After three hours exactly, the twelve good citi- zens and true came back, bringing with them the best and most important verdict ever delivered in a case of this kind in a British court. Apart from the long-overdue vindication of Lawrence, the verdict should have a supremely healthy effect on the state of the law on this matter. For just as, if Penguins had lost, it would have been difficult for any defence under Section 4 (literal or other merit) to succeed, so it is now difficult to see how any similar prosecution under Sec- tion 2 (obscenity) can succeed when LadY Chatterley's Lover, with all those horrid words and naughty descriptions, is ruled not to be obscene.

Irony thus piles upon irony. But stripping the ironies away, we are left. with the vindication-- thirty years late—of the integrity of a great artist' It is some amends to his spirit that the tn°st hated, feared book he wrote should at last have been cleared, in the teeth of the haters all fearers. When the disgraceful case that resulted in the destruction, by court order, of his Paint- ings was over, Lawrence wrote a poem on the subject, which included these lines: Leave me alone now for my soul is burning

as it feels the slimy taint

of all those nasty police-eyes like snail tracks smearing the gentle souls that figure in the paint.

Ah my nice pictures they are fouled they are dirtied

not by time, but by unclean breath and cyci

of all the sordid people that have stared at them uncleanly looked dirt on than and breathing on them lies. Ah my nice pictures let me sponge you very gently

to sponge away the slime . . .

in peace. . D. H. Lawrence. can Trehste sponged away.