Dorothy Sayers - The Wimsey Papers

Dear Beetle, — What's the good of complaining about the publicity given to Haw-Haw? Do you imagine anything is going to stop the British Public from taking cock-shies at an enemy alien? Last war the Stage and Press were full of Little Willie and the Kaiser's moustache, and in the Boer War it was Oom Paul's beard. Now that Hitler seems to have taken a back seat, they've got to make an Aunt Sally of some one. By all means answer the fello and give the nation its money's worth. Undignified be damned! — Yours ever, DENVER, Bredon Hall, Norfolk.

Dear Lord Beetle, — Since our conversation during your visit to Oxford last term, I have given some thought to the question fo Propaganda, and the current controversy about the advisability, or otherwise, of issuing a public reply to the statements broadcast from Reichssender Hamburg affords a convenient occasion for putting my (very tentative) conclusions on paper.

Generally speaking, I am inclined to think that propaganda defeats its own object, by arousing a spirit of opposition in the hearer, and thus suggesting to him counter-arguments to the propositions advanced. (I remember a very entertaining essay on this thesis written a good many years ago by Miss Rose Macaulay.) Thus, I always recommend the President of any Religious Society among my own students to encourage her members to read The Freethinker — an organ whose quaintly old-fashioned Victorian atmosphere I personally find most refreshing.

This leads me to suppose that the most effective form of propaganda might very well be a reasoned reply to propaganda by an enemy speaker — the audience being caught in a receptive frame of mind occasioned by a recoil from the position suggested by his arguments. The reply should not be too lengthy (for fear of provoking a counter-recoil), and the tone should be brisk and humourous. Under these conditions, I can imagine that a broadcast on the lines sketched out by Mr. Nicolson might be very effective. - Believe me, yours sincerely, M. BARING (Warden), Shrewsbury College, Oxford.

Dear Sirs, — Since the identity of the German broadcaster known as "Haw-Haw" seems to be arousing some public interest, may I offer a suggestion? His accent seems to me to resemble very closely (particularly in the vowel-sounds) that used by (a) an actor of insufficient breeding and experience when impersonating an English aristocrat or (b) (more subtly) an experienced actor of good social standing impersonating a man of inferior breeding apeing the speech of the English aristocracy. It is, in fact, very like the accent I used myself in the character of the self-made "Stanton" in Dangerous Corner, which I have played with marked success in the West-End and in the Provinces (photograph and press-cuttings enclosed, with stamped addressed envelope for return). If it is decided to broadcast a reply to this propaganda, would you consider me for the part? By exaggerating the accent and thus showing up the German speaker in a ridiculous light a very good comedy entertainment might be provided. I should add that I have had several broadcasting engagements and can be trusted to give a good performance from a script at first reading. - Yours truly, ALAN FLOAT, Ground-Row Club, Soho.

14. Covering Note to the Above File — HD/191-4/1/40

Ref.MIM/QXJ945/ak/722683.

Spirit of the nation as shown by these letters seems quite excellent. Cannot see that there is any general demand for reply to German propaganda. Advise no action. (Sgd.) H. DENVER (Return to Ld. Beetle, Room 6).

Mr. Ingleby, Copy-writer in Pym's Publicity, Ltd., to Mr. Hankin, Head of the Copy Department in that establishment.

15, PEMMICAN ROAD, WIMBLEDON.

13.1.40.

Dear Mr. Hankin,

I greatly appreciate the kindness of your letter, but I'm afraid I can't change my mind. The fact is, I have developed a conscience of a sort. After all these years in advertising, I'm pretty hard-boiled, but to my own surprise I find there's still a vulnerable spot in me.

I'm quite well aware that business has to be carried on, and that it can't be carried on without advertisement. As a matter of fact, I don't much mind — never have minded — the sort of direct lying we put out. It's labelled "advertisement," and if the public believe everythijng we tell them, they have been warned. And they have got some sort of check on it. If we say somebody's soap is made only of the purest ingredients, and neglect to add that one of the ingredients is the purest pumice, the "discerning housewife" has a chance to discover the facts and has only herself to thank if she goes on buying the stuff after the first spoilt pair of sheets.

What I can't stomach is the indirect lying in the daily Press. It's always a pretty bad joke, but in war-time it gets beyond a joke. All this righteous indignation poured out in the name of the Gallant Troops or the Great British People whenever there's a hint of Government interference with the sacred rights of Branded Goods! I daresay the public ought to keep their eyes skinned. Anybody confronted with a leaderful of wrath about the pooling of This and That has only to turn over the pages of his favourite organ and see how many thousand pounds' worth of advertising it carries for Branded This and Proprietary That, and discount the righteous wrath accordingly. But I don't think it's scruple so much as sheer damned irritation.

It's not that I don't believe in a free Press. It would be a bad thing if even that kind of criticism were censored away. I shouldn't mind if I were equally free to say to the umpteen millions of readers all over the country, "That's all right, but do remember that papers have to please their advertisers." But no paper is going to make its columns free to letters of that sort, and I hate being made to feel helpless.

If only one could get a platform, one could say to these poor goops, "Do realise that, in the end, you can be the masters! Policy depends on advertising, but advertising depends in the long run on circulation. If enough of you stop taking a paper, its advertising revenue will fall off and its space-rates drop. A consumers' strike will bring any commercial body to heel." But they wouldn't do it, because they want the football news or the racing news or the fashions, so they swallow the pill of policy with the sugar. The public is fair game, very likely — but, nevertheless -

This is a queer line for me to take, isn't it? "Ingleby's always so cynical." That's why I write what you are good enough to call "convincing copy." But I've suddenly got a distaste for the game. I'm a coward, too. I don't propose — you needn't imagine it for the moment — to give up my time and energies to enlightening the public mind. I've managed to wangle an Army job, and I'm clearing out, washing my hands, behaving exactly like Pontius Pilate and all the other respectable people who let crimes go on because it's too much trouble to try and stop them. So my cynicism holds good, you see.

You've always been very kind to me, and I have a lot to thank you for, so I thought I'd prefer to tell you the truth, for once. I'm not taking a self-righteous line about the people who stick to the job. I admire those who put their shoulders to the wheel, even when the waggon has stuck fast in the midden. I've no right to the luxury of being fastidious. I despise myself for not having the guts either to shove or to take a spade to the midden. I'm the worst sort of Laodiccan, and propose to spew myself out with the least possible delay.

The gist of all this rigmarole is that I can't see my way to withdraw my resignation, and have written to that effect to Mr. Pym — putting it on the ground of "National Service", God forgive me! Please accept my assurance that nothing could be less heroic than my conduct, and believe me, — Very gratefully yours,

C. INGLEBY

16. Harriet, Lady Peter Wimsey, to Mr. Paul Delagardie, in London.