Gentlemen prefer chorus girls: EMERY BONETT, A Girl Must Live (1936)

[Thank you so much to all of you who offered supportive comments on my previous post and reassured me of your ongoing interest in my plumbing of the depths of obscurity. I definitely feel encouraged and reassured that my efforts are not for naught. And happily, I have a particularly fun one to kick things off again!]

"Why," he said, "don't you see, it's just the difference. After that roomful of people . . . you're like a breath of honeysuckle from a country hedge.''

I leaned back and shut my eyes and just sighed.

Nothing but an earthquake could stop me now.

This was the first of my recent acquisitions from the British Library that I plunged into when I got home, and it made for a very fun couple of afternoons' reading. If you enjoy cynical, manipulative, seductive gold diggers à la Gentlemen Prefer Blondes or How to Marry a Millionaire, then you would enjoy this quick, funny novel by an author who would later be better known (in collaboration with her husband) for a series of film industry-related mysteries. Narrated by Gloria Lind, perhaps the most unscrupulous among a group of chorus girls on the make (apart from poor, rather plain Leslie, who is clearly not a threat to anyone…), the book—about Gloria's determined attempts to snatch a romantically inclined Earl away from fellow chorus girl Clytie Burns, and how she winds up hoist on her own petard—is a bit of a one-joke monologue, but I still ate it up as greedily as I can make away with a packet of McVitie's dark chocolate digestives (fresh in my memory from our recent time in London).

There's not really a lot of plot to sum up—it's really just Gloria's various machinations to spend time with the Earl, and how they often backfire, fleshed out with a number of her fortune-hunting fellow chorus girls, a theatrical backer stepping out on his wife, and a phony Count/gigolo to liven up and complicate matters. So I'll just offer a few examples of Gloria's sometimes hilariously self-absorbed narration to give you an idea:

Anyway, I didn't have to worry about her being in the house. She had no idea of making herself attractive to men. Just like a lot of other nice girls who might as well be dead.

…

Of course I have danced with titled people before, only this was the first really sober one.

…

"I am Mr. Bumpel, solicitor, but it is not as a solicitor I am calling on you, but to reason with you and to appeal to your better self on behalf of my wronged sister."

I thought if his sister was anything like him and she'd managed to get herself wronged, she ought to be jolly grateful.

In addition to the giggle value of Gloria's tale, I should point out that she's also pretty lavish about describing her own and the other girls' dresses and outfits. Knowing not so much about clothing from any period, some of the descriptions went over my head (though I did learn that a "kestos"—as in "She was young and firm, and the only one among us who didn't need to wear a kestos"—was a popular brand of bra that first appeared in the early Thirties, lifting and accenting the breasts instead of flattening them, as had been the trend with flappers in the 1920s), but fashionistas could have a field day here. And the illustrations by Anna K. Zinkeisen are a completely charming complement to the text.

I'll also mention that there's just a touch of awkward racial content. It doesn't seem to me intended in a very hateful way, and is in keeping with Gloria's no-holds-barred style of manhunting, but she does on multiple occasions make comments to the Earl intended to suggest that Clytie is of mixed race, and those comments rather grate on modern ears. Not a huge deal, and reflective of the attitudes of the time, but there is that.

A Girl Must Live was made into a film in 1939 starring Margaret Lockwood and directed by Carol Reed. It's available on YouTube, and it looks quite entertaining (though clearly liberally adapted from the novel). I attempted to watch it, but alas, the sound quality is a bit too low and the accents simply impenetrable, even to someone who has watched British TV and films obsessively. Not to mention the speed of the dialogue! Like a Hollywood screwball comedy on speed. I imagine many Brits might even have trouble keeping up with it. But give it subtitles and I will definitely be there for it!

Bonett (real name Felicity Winifred Carter) wrote two more solo, mainstream novels—Never Go Dark (1940) and Make Do with Spring (1941), the first at least also containing a theatrical element—before turning to a life of crime (so to speak) with her husband. Thanks to Grant Hurlock, who has often shared rare titles with me—I actually have scans of those two, which I hadn't (of course) got round to reading. But I'll be moving them up my TBR now…

Also, if you're intrigued by Bonett/Carter's mysteries, I happened to notice that the first three are now available as e-books from Lume Books, along with a series of books written solo by her husband, John Bonett (real name John Hubert Arthur Coulson). I will meekly add that I also have one of the mysteries, A Banner for Pegasus, languishing unread somewhere…

I'm happy that my first read from my BL titles was such great fun. Fingers crossed there will be more treasures to come!