The Suing Sitwells

Britain's famous libel laws are hard on critics, fun for artists. Britain's famous Sitwells love fun. Last month, between bombs, they had their fun in court. The Three Sitwells are not an acrobatic act. They are Edith, Osbert and Sacheverell, the fractious, fastidious scions of Sir George Reresby Sitwell, fourth Baronet, Lord of the Manor of Long Itchington. Osbert is a poet, essayist, novelist (Before the Bombardment, Escape With Me). Sacheverell is an outstanding authority on baroque art and Liszt, author of a distinguished travel book (Roumanian Journey) and much verse. Edith usually dresses like a medieval prioress, writes sharp, hard, colorful poetry that gives the impression of viridian green and Chinaman's-heart's-blood laid on in arabesque by a razor blade.

Edith Sitwell (by her own proclamation) has no sense of humor. But all the Sitwells are prankish as hippogriffs. Osbert's impish autobiographical notes in Who's Who are said to freeze the other Sitwells into stoney stares of amusement. All three delight in caressing authors and critics they do not like with their individual or corporate paws. Edith once called a poem of John Masefield's "dead mutton" and Poet Cecil Day Lewis "an electric drill with the electricity left out." She and Osbert presented prizes to "the authors most representative of the tedious literature of the age." Novelist Henry Williamson got a stuffed fish; Biographer Harold Nicolson two stuffed kittens; the literary editor of the London Spectator 27 moth balls. Edith, by her own account, "in early youth took an intense dislike to . . . every kind of sport except reviewer-baiting. . . ."

Result is that while many a critic thinks that all three Sitwells are as mimsy as borogoves, with a highly refined flair for publicity, few critics think it out loud. Most of them feel like the young man who at one Sitwell function whispered: "You know, the Sitwells are so cruel; so devastatingly cruel, don't you think? Do you think they are going to be too awfully cruel today?" Last year when Edith Sitwell's Anthology appeared, rash Reviewer Hamilton Fyfe thought he would like to find out how cruel the Sitwells would be if somebody criticized the Sitwells. In the 98-year-old London weekly Reynolds News he wrote: "Among the literary curiosities of the nineteen-twenties will be the vogue of the Sitwells . . . whose energy and self-assurance pushed them into a position which their merits could not have won. . . . Now oblivion has claimed them and they are remembered with kindly, if slightly cynical, smiles."

There were several high, hawklike cries, a spasmodic intake of talons and the Three Sitwells swooped down on Reynolds News, sued the paper and its editor, Sydney Elliott, for libel.

One day last month the brothers strode into court attired in black Homburgs, black overcoats, elegantly-gathered silk scarves. Six-foot Edith wore a hat like a medieval mitre clapped dead-straight on her resolute forehead. The courtroom was packed with publishers, booksellers, literary celebrities, including pro-Sitwell witnesses, Novelist Charles Morgan (The Fountain), and Sinologist Arthur Waley.

Everybody tittered when the Sitwell counsel declared that "the plaintiffs would be the last persons to deny they are not of the same type as poets who dare not say Boo to a goose. . . ." They tittered louder as they heard:

> Osbert testify that he played cricket against the Yorkshire eleven when he was seven years old.

> Edith testify: "I have advertised my books in the way all tradesmen advertise their wares."

> Sacheverell testify that he had not passed into oblivion, had no intention of doing so.

> The presiding judge quip "You hope not," suggest waggishly that all three Sitwells ought to testify at once.

Cross-examined, Osbert admitted that the Sitwells had refused an offer of 150 pounds and an apology from Reynolds News. Snapped the defense: "What is the object of this action, publicity or money?" Snapped Osbert: "To try to obtain some compensation for the damage done and to prevent the newspapers from libeling artists in this way."

After three days of fun, the court found Reviewer Fyfe's review defamatory, ordered Reynolds News and Editor Elliott to pay each of the Sitwells 350 pounds--about $1,400 apiece.

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