Alan Bennett

Alan Bennett’s first play, Forty Years On, was produced in 1968; his most recent, Allelujah! in 2018. The Choral, for which he wrote the screenplay, was released in 2025. Bennett’s diary for 1983 appeared in the LRB, and we carried his diary every year after that until 2023. He now claims his life is so dull he won’t inflict it on LRB readers. The Lady in the Van was first published in the paper, and the LRB has also carried some of his Talking Heads monologues; short stories, such as ‘The Uncommon Reader’; pieces of memoir; and reviews, including ‘The Wrong Blond’, on W.H. Auden and Chester Kallman, and ‘Alas! Deceived’, on Philip Larkin.

Diary: What I did in 1983

Alan Bennett, 16 February 1984

I’ve kept a sporadic diary for about ten years. Besides the occasional incident that seems worth recording, I put down gossip and notes on work and reading. These are some extracts from last year. London is Camden Town and Yorkshire a small village in Craven to which my parents retired, and where I still have a house.

Instead of a Present

Alan Bennett, 15 April 1982

My first thought was that this whole enterprise is definitely incongruous. A birthday party for Philip Larkin is like treating Simone Weil to a candlelit dinner for two at a restaurant of her choice. Or sending Proust flowers. No. A volume of this sort is simply a sharp nudge in the direction of the grave; and that is a road, God knows, along which he needs no nudging.

Bad John: John Osborne

Alan Bennett, 3 December 1981

One of John Osborne’s Thoughts for 1954: ‘The urge to please above all. I don’t have it and can’t achieve it. A small thing but more or less mine own.’ This book does please and has pleased. It is immensely enjoyable, is written with great gusto and Osborne has had better notices for it than for any of his plays since Inadmissible Evidence.

Books are safer than...

Story: ‘Men’s Talk’

Alan Bennett, 3 December 1981

Two middle-class men talking. Call them Charles and Henry.

CHARLES: And did you have to go through that tedious charade, sexual intercourse?

HENRY: (enthusiastically) Oh yes. From A to Z.

CHARLES: Z? B is the furthest I’ve ever felt it necessary to go.

HENRY: A. B. C. D. The whole alphabet of love.

CHARLES: What form did it take?

HENRY: A myriad forms.

CHARLES: Put it in and jiggle it...

Cold Sweat

Alan Bennett, 15 October 1981

I am meeting my father at the station. I stand at the barrier as the train draws in and see him get off. As he walks along the platform he catches sight of me and waves. I wave back and we both smile. However, he still has some considerable distance to cover before reaching the barrier. Do I keep a continuous smile on my face during that period, do I flash him an occasional smile or do I look away?

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