In my book Utterly Immoral I discuss the attempts made to turn Robert Keable’s novel Simon Called Peter into a play. According to a press release in 1922 Robert travelled to Tahiti to allow him the peace and quiet needed to write a treatment of his novel for the theatre. I have not been able to find out what happened to this treatment, if it was ever completed, and anyway over in America William A Brady, the theatrical producer, was eager to get things moving. So Brady purchased the theatrical rights to the book and turned first to Jules Eckert Goodman, later with Edward Knoblock’s help, to complete a script. In my book I follow the play through its early productions and all the way to Broadway. And that was where I thought the story of the play ended.

I had always wondered why there were no productions of Simon called Peter in England. Robert never mentioned any suggestion the play might be produced in letters to either his publisher, Michael Sadler, or his literary agent, AP Watt. Robert had seen the play in America and, spoiler alert, considered it ‘the most incredible and awful production that ever anyone dreamed of’. I thought perhaps he had blocked any attempts to produce it in England. Which in retrospect is unlikely. He happily sold the rights to his novel Numerous Treasure to William Brady, straight after seeing his appalling production of Simon Called Peter.

Dr George Simmers

I am deeply indebted to Dr George Simmers for alerting me to the fact there was an attempt to produce the play in London. George is an expert on the fiction of the Great War. I first came across his research blog Great War Fiction Plus when he wrote an article on Simon Called Peter back in 2006, which he followed up with one on Robert Keable. I have followed his blog ever since and was delighted when he agreed to review my book (you can read his review here)

Application to Lord Cromer, Lord Chamberlain

A few years ago, George was researching the Lord Chamberlain’s archive at the British Library and came across an application in the records to perform Simon Called Peter. Back in 1843 the Theatre’s Act gave the Lord Chamberlain’s Office the job of official censor for almost all theatrical performances in England. No play could be performed without first being licenced by his, (they were always men), office. The office could ban plays, or demand changes to them, and because the Lord Chamberlain was part of the Royal Household, and not answerable to Parliament, they did not have to give reasons for a ban. We now know there were a wide range of reasons plays were banned. According to Historian Steve Nicholson, Oedipus could not be performed because it might inspire audiences to commit incest, and more seriously anti-Nazi plays were banned in the 1930s for criticising Germany, who at the time was seen as a friendly power. More commonly plays with sexually explicit themes, nudity and the use of swearing were refused licences.

So, what of the application of the Simon called Peter script? George takes up the story.

The initial report by the Lord Chamberlain’s reader was not unsympathetic:

I see no reason for refusing a licence. It would be, I think, an excessive act of authority to prevent a dramatist’s expressing the opinions on the inadequacy of the Church expressed in the play, or representing a parson as ‘sinning’ or even thinking his sin an advantageous experience, especially as he ceases to be a clergyman.

The reader was careful, however, to follow the usual procedure with controversial plays, and to pass the decision to his superior. He suggested that ‘The Lord Chamberlain might like to read at least the last three scenes.’ Lord Cromer (the Lord Chamberlain) also followed his usual procedure. He forwarded the play to some Establishment figures and asked for their comments. Viscount Ullswater, a prominent Conservative politician, took offence on behalf of soldiers and nurses:

Speaking generally, both officers and nurses would consider the second scene a libel upon them and rightly so. It is evidently written by an American who never went to the war.

The Bishop of London responded:

I asked at tea whether anyone had read Simon called Peter, and a young officer, the son of the house, said, ‘Why, Bishop, surely you haven’t read that book. I am not too particular but it is the hottest stuff I ever read, and by a Parson, too.’ Then I went up and I have just read the play. The book when it came out scandalised the clergy, and was looked upon as a libel on the Army, but is being forgotten now. This play, if produced, will of course revive the feeling against it again.

After considering the case of Shaw’s Mrs Warren’s Profession (‘It shows the prostitute’s profession, if I remember right, as a wretched and dull affair.’) he goes on to imagining Simon Called Peter on stage:

I picture myself taking my house party as I do when I have a free evening to the Theatre, and any nice girl or woman would I think be sick at seeing any man or woman emerging from the bedroom where they had spent the night in their night-dresses, but when one was a parson they would be positively shocked.

Lord Cromer was persuaded that the play was not worthy a licence. He replied to the bishop:

In refusing the licence I have taken my stand on the line that the dramatic conclusion of the play depends upon a public renunciation by a clergyman of the Church of England of one of the most fundamental doctrines upon which the teaching of the church depends, and this is represented in a manner indicated to secure the approval and even enlist the sympathies of the audience, which is unjustifiable.

It seems extraordinary, after Simon called Peter had sold so well in England in the early 1920s that a play covering the same material should be banned.