We’re leaving Berlin now, or rather: Michael Davidson fled Berlin in 1933 after being chased by the Nazis, who had just gained (more) power. It’s an exciting story to say the least, but we’ll skip it and head back to London. Davidson fled there via Prague and Vienna. It’s about 1935 now, Davidson is 38 years old. We read from page 167 (chapter 12) in The World, the Flesh and Myself:
My behaviour, in these years, was disastrous, and leading me – obviously, had I paused to look – straight to my ‘first row’. I was drinking more than usual; and with more than usual frenzy was chasing ‘romance’: Millard would have disapproved.
I had no beloved, though many delusions of love – ‘in each of them I saw the sign of the one I was waiting for’, wrote Carlo Coccioli in his extraordinary novel of Florence and Paris, ‘The Eye and the Heart’.
That is the impulsion, the motive power, of the prowling paederast – the unending search for the ‘divine friend, much desired’. One tried to look, always, beyond the brevity of pleasure.