Sunday, December 7, 2014

Jeremy Thorpe, Member of Parliament Accused in Sex Scandal

Photo
Jeremy Thorpe in London in January 1967, after being elected the leader of the Liberal Party. CreditKeystone, via Getty Images
Continue reading the main storyShare This Page
Jeremy Thorpe, a charismatic British politician who briefly revived the fortunes of his country’s Liberal Party before his political career was destroyed by a scandal involving allegations of a homosexual relationship and of a murder conspiracy to keep it quiet, died on Thursday. He was 85.
His son, Rupert, announced the death, saying that Mr. Thorpe had struggled with Parkinson’s disease for more than 30 years. No other details were given.
On June 22, 1979, after a monthlong trial that attracted worldwide attention, Mr. Thorpe was found not guilty on charges of conspiring to murder Norman Scott, a former stable hand and male model. Three co-defendants were also acquitted.
But the acquittals came too late to save Mr. Thorpe’s political career. The scandal had already cost him his seat in Parliament, which he had held for 20 years, representing the North Devon district in the far west of England, and forced him to resign his leadership of the Liberal Party. At the time, male homosexual acts were illegal in Britain.
After the trial, Mr. Thorpe and his second wife, Marion — his first had died in a car crash — retired to their home in a remote Exmoor village and all but disappeared from public view.
But for a time he had been the Liberal Party’s most successful leader in decades, elected to the post in 1967 at the age of 38. In his nine-year tenure, until 1976, the party, now known as the Liberal Democrats, more than doubled its voter support, offering Britons a credible alternative to the Labour and Conservative parties.
Mr. Thorpe had become its face and voice, pressing for liberal policies at home and, as a human-rights advocate, for the abolition of apartheid in South Africa.
He was known for his oratorical eloquence and barbed wit. In 1962, after Prime Minister Harold Macmillan dismissed seven cabinet ministers in what became known as “the Night of the Long Knives,” Mr. Thorpe put an acerbic twist on biblical verse, remarking, “Greater love than this hath no man, than to lay down his friends for his life.”
He had also cut a suave, dashing figure, resplendent in bespoke Edwardian suits, thick gold watch chains and his signature trilby, a narrow-brimmed hat that he wore at a rakish angle over darkly saturnine features.
On Thursday, Nick Clegg, the deputy prime minister and leader of the Liberal Democrats, praised Mr. Thorpe for his “leadership and resolve,” adding that “his involvement with the antiapartheid movement and the campaign for Britain’s membership of the Common Market were ahead of his time.”
Rumors of Mr. Thorpe’s sexual inclinations had circulated in political and journalistic circles for years without doing him any harm. But this changed in 1971, when the Liberal Party began an internal inquiry in response to allegations by Mr. Scott.
He said that in the early 1960s, when he was a stable hand, he had met Mr. Thorpe and begun a two-year sexual relationship with him in violation of anti-sodomy laws then on the books. (Homosexual acts between two men in private were decriminalized in England and Wales in 1967.) The inquiry exonerated Mr. Thorpe.
But Mr. Scott continued to press his accusations, selling letters to newspapers that he said Mr. Thorpe had written to him. In one, addressing Mr. Scott by a pet name, “Bunnies,” he promised to pay for a horse-riding course in France. It ended, “Bunnies can (and will) go to France.” (The quotation soon appeared on T-shirts around London.)
In 1975, an airline pilot, Andrew Newton, was accused of ambushing Mr. Scott on Exmoor, shooting Mr. Scott’s Great Dane with a handgun and turning it on Mr. Scott, saying it was his turn to die. The gun was not fired; Mr. Scott suggested that it had jammed. Mr. Newton was convicted of firearms violations.
It was during the trial that Mr. Scott accused Mr. Thorpe and his allies of hiring Mr. Newton. At the trial, during which Mr. Thorpe did not testify, a defense lawyer acknowledged that Mr. Thorpe had “homosexual tendencies” but denied the charges and said that Mr. Thorpe had never had a sexual relationship with Mr. Scott.
Mr. Thorpe’s defense proceeded to undermine the credibility of the three main prosecution witnesses, showing that they had lied or changed their stories and that some had lucrative newspaper contracts that would pay them even more if Mr. Thorpe was convicted.
In a remarkably critical summing up, the presiding judge, Sir Joseph Donaldson Cantley, called Mr. Scott a “liar,” a “fraud,” a “sponger” and a “crook.”
But although Mr. Thorpe was acquitted, the verdict left many questions unanswered. At the end of the trial, defense lawyers admitted that one of the defendants would have pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of conspiring to frighten Mr. Scott.
John Jeremy Thorpe was born in Surrey on April 29, 1929, the son of John Henry Thorpe and a maternal grandson of John Norton Griffiths, both of whom had been Conservative members of Parliament. An ancestor had been speaker of the House of Commons in the 1400s.
Jeremy Thorpe was educated at Eton and Oxford, where he studied law and was a talented debater. He was practicing law in London when he first won the North Devon seat, in 1959. He became Liberal Party leader in 1967. The next year he married the former Caroline Allpass, an art expert. Rupert is their son.
Mr. Thorpe’s leadership began inauspiciously. The Liberals did badly in the 1970 election, losing half of their seats and winning only 7.5 percent of the vote.
A week later his wife was killed in a car crash. And he was embarrassed when a financial scandal engulfed a banking house of which he was a nonexecutive director.
In 1973 Mr. Thorpe married Marion Stein, the former wife of the Earl of Harewood, who was a cousin of Queen Elizabeth II.
The Liberals made a dramatic electoral comeback in 1974, winning 14 seats with almost 20 percent of the national vote. For the first time since World War II, the party looked to be a credible third force in British politics, depriving both the Conservatives and Labour of an overall majority.
In a bid to retain power, Prime Minister Edward Heath, a Conservative, suggested a coalition with the Liberals. But the idea stalled. When a second election brought Labour to power later in 1974 under Harold Wilson, the Liberals did slightly less well, losing one seat and winning 5.3 million votes, or 18.3 percent.
Besides his son, Rupert, he is survived by grandchildren and great-grandchildren. His wife, Marion, died in March.
His trial was chronicled in two books — “The Last Word: An Eye-Witness Account of the Thorpe Trial” (1980), by Auberon Waugh, and “Jeremy Thorpe: A Secret Life” (1979), by Lewis Chester, Magnus Linklater and David May — and both implicitly questioned the verdict.
In 1999 Mr. Thorpe published his memoirs, “In My Own Time: Reminiscences of a Liberal Leader.” But the book did not shed any further light on the Scott episode.
In 2008, however, well after homosexuality had gained wide acceptance in British society, he reflected on the episode in an interview with The Guardian.
“If it happened now,” he told the newspaper, “the public would be kinder. Back then they were very troubled by it.”
He added, “It offended their set of values.”

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Leslie Feinberg, Writer and Transgender Activist

Photo
A self-portrait of Leslie Feinberg in the West Village in 2011. CreditLeslie Feinberg
Continue reading the main storyShare This Page
Leslie Feinberg, a writer and activist whose 1993 novel, “Stone Butch Blues,” is considered a landmark in the contemporary literature of gender complexity, died on Nov. 15 at her home in Syracuse. She was 65.
Her death was confirmed by her spouse, Minnie Bruce Pratt, who said in a statement that the cause was “complications from multiple tick-borne co-infections, including Lyme disease.”
Feinberg, who resisted being called Ms. or any other gender-specific honorific, wrote fiercely and furiously on behalf of those she saw as oppressed because of their sexual, ethnic, racial or other identities. A longtime member of theWorkers World Party, a Marxist-Leninist group, and a prolific journalist for its newspaper, she wrote a 120-part series, from 2004 to 2008, explicating the role of socialism in the history of gender politics.
Feinberg was an advocate for minorities and for the poor, as well as for gay men and lesbians and others who identified as transgender — an umbrella term, distinct from transsexual, that describes people whose life experience straddles the line between male and female and between masculine and feminine.
She herself was biologically a woman but presented outwardly as male — and sometimes passed as a man for reasons of safety, a friend, Julie Enszer, said in an interview. Feinberg, in referring to herself, used the pronouns ze (for she) and hir (for her), though she often said pronoun usage was frequently a matter of context.
“I am female-bodied, I am a butch lesbian, a transgender lesbian — referring to me as ‘she/her’ is appropriate, particularly in a non-trans setting in which referring to me as ‘he’ would appear to resolve the social contradiction between my birth sex and gender expression and render my transgender expression invisible,” she explained in a 2006 interview with Camp, a publication in Kansas City, Mo., aimed at gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people and their supporters.
“I like the gender neutral pronoun ‘ze/hir,’ ” she continued, “because it makes it impossible to hold on to gender/sex/sexuality assumptions about a person you’re about to meet or you’ve just met. And in an all trans setting, referring to me as ‘he/him’ honors my gender expression in the same way that referring to my sister drag queens as ‘she/her’ does.”
Feinberg’s books included two nonfiction studies of gender issues, “Transgender Warriors: Making History From Joan of Arc to Dennis Rodman” and “Trans Liberation: Beyond Pink or Blue,” and a second novel, “Drag King.”
But her best-known and most influential work was “Stone Butch Blues,” a coming-of-age novel, drawn at least partly from her own life, about a young person, born female, who grows into adulthood at odds with her own family and comes to grips with her complicated, unconventional sexual and gender identity at a time when practicing a so-called alternative lifestyle invited stigma, open discrimination and, in many settings, menacing opprobrium.
“They cuffed my hands so tight I almost cried out,” the protagonist, Jess Goldberg, writes in a letter to a former lover, describing a night the police raided a club they were in together. “Then the cop unzipped his pants real slow, with a smirk on his face, and ordered me down on my knees. First I thought to myself, I can’t! Then I said out loud to myself and to you and to him, I won’t! I never told you this before but something changed inside of me at that moment. I learned the difference between what I can’t do and what I refuse to do.”
Leslie Feinberg was born on Sept. 1, 1949, in Kansas City and grew up in Buffalo. Her family was hostile to her sexuality and gender expression, and she left home as a teenager, rejecting them as well.
According to a biographical statement supplied by her spouse, Feinberg earned a living mostly in temporary low-wage jobs, including washing dishes, working in a book bindery, cleaning out ship cargo holds and interpreting sign language.
In addition to writing, she pursued many causes as an activist. In 1974, she organized a march against racism in Boston after white supremacists had attacked blacks there. She helped rally support for AIDS patients and those at risk in the early days of the disease. A longtime advocate for women’s reproductive rights, she returned to Buffalo to work for that cause in 1998, after an abortion provider, Dr. Barnett Slepian, was murdered in his home near there.
In addition to Pratt, a poet and an activist, Feinberg is survived by “an extended family of choice,” according to the statement provided by her spouse. She “identified as an antiracist white, working-class, secular Jewish, transgender, lesbian, female revolutionary communist,” the statement said.
In an essay after Feinberg’s death, Shauna Miller, a writer and editor who contributes to The Atlantic, wrote on the magazine’s website that “Stone Butch Blues” was “the heartbreaking holy grail of butch perspective,” a book that was instrumental in her coming to terms with her own sexual and gender identity. The novel, which has been translated into several languages including Chinese and Slovenian, “changed queer history,” she wrote.
“It changed trans history. It changed dyke history. And how it did that was by honestly telling a brutally real, beautifully vulnerable and messy personal story of a butch lesbian.”

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Sandy Wilson, Composer and Writer of "The Boy Friend"

Photo
Sandy Wilson Creditvia Photofest
Continue reading the main storyShare This Page
Sandy Wilson, the British composer and playwright whose hit musical “The Boy Friend” starred Julie Andrews in her Broadway debut, died on Wednesday in Taunton, England. He was 90.
His death was confirmed by the office of his agent, Nick Quinn.
Mr. Wilson wrote the book, music and lyrics for “The Boy Friend,” a romantic parody of 1920s musicals. A boy-meets-girl story set at a finishing school on the French Riviera, the show featured flapper dress and self-consciously innocuous songs like “I Could Be Happy With You” and “Won’t You Charleston With Me?”
The show began as a Players’ Theater production in London in 1953 but drew such an enthusiastic response that a longer version opened at Wyndham’s Theater in the West End in 1954, where it would be performed nearly 2,100 times before closing.
Later that year the show opened at the Royale Theater (now the Bernard B. Jacobs Theater) on Broadway.
“Mr. Wilson’s light cartoon of the standard musical play of the ’20s is extremely well done in manuscript as well as onstage,” Brooks Atkinson wrote in a review in The New York Times, going on to praise Mr. Wilson’s “satirical inventiveness.”
Photo
Julie Andrews in 1954 with John Hewer in the Sandy Wilson musical “The Boy Friend,” Ms. Andrews’s Broadway debut.CreditSam Falk/The New York Times
The show proved a breakthrough for Ms. Andrews, who was only 19 at the time and whose performance won the hearts of many critics.
“She breathes such lunatic sincerity into the pink lozenge of ‘Boy Friend’s’ plot that you’re not sure whether it’s your leg or your heartstrings that are being pulled, and you don’t much care,” Helen Markel wrote in a New York Times Magazine profile of Ms. Andrews in 1954. Her next Broadway part was Eliza Doolittle in the original production of “My Fair Lady,” followed by the films that made her an international star, “Mary Poppins” and “The Sound of Music.”
“The Boy Friend” ran for more than 480 performances at the Royale and has been revived both on Broadway and off.
A film adaptation, written and directed by Ken Russell and starring Tommy Tune and Twiggy, in her feature film debut, was released in 1971. Reviews of the film, whose elaborate staging included chorus girls spinning on a gigantic turntable, tended to be much cooler than reviews of the stage show had been.
Alexander Galbraith Wilson was born in Sale, Manchester, England, on May 19, 1924, too late to see much of the Roaring Twenties. Nevertheless he felt their influence.
“I was brought up with my cradle being rocked to the Charleston,” he was quoted in a 1970 article in The Christian Science Monitor.
He attended Harrow School and served in the army in the Middle East during World War II. He graduated from Oxford, where he wrote and produced student productions, and then attended the Old Vic Theater School before he began contributing to revues for West End theaters.


Mr. Wilson also wrote the book, music and lyrics for “Valmouth” (1958), an adaptation of the Ronald Firbank novel set in an imaginary British resort, and “Divorce Me, Darling!” (1964), a sequel to “The Boy Friend” that spoofed 1930s musicals. He is survived by his partner, Chak Yui.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Frank M. Robinson, Author and Speechwriter for Harvey Milk

Photo
Frank Robinson on the set of "Milk" in 2008. CreditDaniel Nicoletta
Continue reading the main storyShare This Page
Continue reading the main story
Frank M. Robinson, a well-regarded science fiction writer whose credits include a novel adapted for the 1974 blockbuster film “The Towering Inferno,” and who was also a speechwriter and adviser to Harvey Milk, the San Francisco city supervisor assassinated in 1978, died on Monday at his home in San Francisco. He was 87.
The cause was heart disease and pneumonia, said Robin Wayne Bailey, an author, friend and former president of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, which announced the death.
Mr. Robinson had moved to San Francisco from Chicago in 1973 to work with a friend and fellow writer, Thomas N. Scortia, on a novel about a skyscraper fire. While writing the book he befriended Mr. Milk, who owned a camera store in the neighborhood.
“The Glass Inferno,” their 1974 novel, was mined for parts in creating the final script for “The Towering Inferno,” the producer Irwin Allen’s disaster-film follow-up to “The Poseidon Adventure” (1972). Parts of Richard Martin Stern’s 1973 novel, “The Tower,” also found their way into the movie. All three authors earned screen credit and substantial paydays.
Photo
Frank Robinson, left, and Harvey Milk at the front counter of Castro Camera in 1976.CreditDaniel Nicolett
Mr. Robinson used his money to settle in San Francisco, and to help Mr. Milk in his quest to become one of the first openly gay elected officials in the country.
“It came up that I was a writer,” Mr. Robinson said in a 2008 interview with The Chicago Reader, describing the conversation that began his political partnership with Mr. Milk. “He said, ‘Hey, why don’t you be my speechwriter? It’ll be a hoot.’ ”
“I figured it would be a lot of fun,” Mr. Robinson recalled — “and I might meet somebody.”
Mr. Robinson was also gay, but not publicly. In Chicago, where he spent the first half of his life, he had earned his living as a writer and editor for men’s magazines like Rogue, Gallery and Playboy. At Playboy, where he worked from 1969 to 1973, he had ghostwritten the “Playboy Advisor” column, a colloquium of sex and lifestyle advice for men.
His reputation as a science-fiction author was established with “The Power,” a 1956 novel about a man with advanced mental powers. Considered a classic of the paranormal genre, it was made into a television special in 1956 starring Theodore Bikel and a film in 1968 starring George Hamilton and Suzanne Pleshette.
In the 1970s and ’80s, Mr. Robinson teamed with Mr. Scortia on several projects. Besides “The Glass Inferno,” they wrote “The Prometheus Crisis” (1975), “The Nightmare Factor” (1978) and “The Gold Crew,” a nuclear-nightmare thriller.
His 1991 novel, “The Dark Beyond the Stars,” a space travel reimagining of Christopher Columbus’s journey, was selected as one of The New York Times’s notable books of the year.
Frank Malcolm Robinson was born in Chicago on Aug. 9, 1926. After a tour of duty in the Navy during World War II, he graduated from Beloit College in Wisconsin and then was drafted again to serve in the Korean War. He earned a master’s degree in journalism from Northwestern University and worked in the magazine business while writing fiction.
He is survived by a brother, Mark.
Mr. Robinson had a small role in “Milk,” Gus Van Sant’s 2008 film about Harvey Milk, and was interviewed extensively by Sean Penn, who played the title role, for his insights about his friend. Mr. Milk was killed along with Mayor George Moscone at San Francisco’s City Hall on Nov. 27, 1978, by a disgruntled political rival, Dan White.
Mr. Robinson had little or no dialogue in most of his scenes. But at one point he improvised a line, standing at a window to shout a profane coming-out announcement about his sexuality. “I’ll tell my brothers!” he said. Mr. Van Sant liked the moment well enough to film it a second time.
Mr. Robinson had never told anyone in his family that he was gay, neither his parents nor his four brothers. And though the scene did not end up in the film, saying the words had made him tremble with emotion, he told The Chicago Reader. It had been his coming out.
“I suddenly realized I was saying goodbye to all that baggage.”