William Trevor Cox (1928-2016) disposed of his surname for writing purposes. He was born in County Cork, Ireland, to James Cox, a bank manager, and Gertrude, nee Davison, originally from Ulster. They were a Protestant family.
It was not a particularly happy childhood and, owing to his father’s postings, Trevor spent it in several different southern Irish outposts before reading history at Trinity College, Dublin (having begun in the Medical School).
Two years after graduating he married Jane Ryan, daughter of a British army officer. They lived initially in Ulster, where Trevor worked as a prep school teacher and wood carver, before migrating to England in 1954.
After further teaching and sculpting, he published his first novel in 1958, but it was not a resounding success. Now with a family to support, he became an advertising copywriter.
His second novel, ‘The Old Boys’, was published in 1964 to universal acclaim. Evelyn Waugh called it ‘uncommonly well-written, gruesome, funny and original’ and it also won the Hawthornden Prize.
I found it reissued as one of ‘Three Early Novels’ republished by Penguin USA in 2000.
It deals with the lives and interactions of the Old Boys’ Committee of an unnamed English public school. These men were pupils well before the Great War. Now, some 60 years later, during a hot, dry, summer, they must decide which of them is to succeed their Chairman, Sir George Ponders.
Jaraby is the favourite, a great respecter of authority (no matter how warped or misguided) who desperately wants the post. But his domestic life is unhappy, for he is at war with Mrs Jaraby.
He believes her unhinged, but we come to realise that hers is the voice of reason.
The other Committee members are an odd assortment. Cridley and Sole live together in a Wimbledon boarding house. Turtle is growing forgetful and lonely, having been married only briefly before his wife died in the Great War. General Sanctuary is a man of integrity who has given his life to public service. Swabey-Boyns remains a mischief-maker, fond of practical jokes.
Finally, there is Nox, once Jaraby’s fag, an unmarried private tutor who has come to terms with his solitary life. Jaraby was instrumental in making him utterly miserable at school, and he is still intent upon revenge.
There are several bones of contention between the Jarabys, one being Mr Jaraby’s obnoxious cat, which Mrs Jaraby eventually despatches, preparing the way for the return of their ne’er do well son, Basil, a breeder of budgies.
Basil followed his father to the same school, but was unable to emulate his success. Mrs Jaraby says:
‘He was afraid of the place. It was you who rose to great heights and won the prizes. He was to do likewise. He tried, God knows, but a frightened child can achieve little.’
Basil’s unsuccessful adult life has been a grave disappointment to his disapproving father. (We learn later that Jaraby’s own father actively disliked him, which might begin to explain his awfulness).
Nox employs Swingler, a private detective, to dig up dirt on Jaraby, paying him in kind with free Italian lessons. Swingler attempts entrapment via a prostitute who accosts Jaraby on the street, but he escapes, thinking the woman mad.
Jaraby, meanwhile, strives to get his wife committed or, failing that, to persuade a doctor to prescribe drugs that he can administer without her knowledge.
Just prior to returning to the parental home, Basil Jaraby falls foul of the law, having invited a small girl to see his budgies. On returning her to the playground where they met, her mother is upset and notifies the police.
Jaraby senior begins to fear impending chaos, believing that malign forces are seeking to destroy him, threatening his election to the chair of the Committee.
When his son is arrested, Jaraby’s goose is cooked. Swingler blackmails him, promising to suppress any media interest in himself and his beloved school in return for £500. But Nox has also paid Swingler for the information too.
At the critical Committee meeting, (attended by all but Turtle, who died during the second act of the Mikado, performed at the school on Old Boys’ Day), Nox argues that Jaraby’s appointment would damage the school’s reputation, by virtue of his son’s criminal trial.
General Sanctuary, though he dislikes Jaraby, argues that the father should not be blamed for the actions of his son. He resigns from the Committee in protest.
But Jaraby’s own actions condemn him, causing acute embarrassment. He accuses Nox, falsely, of being a Jew, before claiming that he is not his son’s father.
We never learn which of the men is elected chairman, but it is neither Jaraby nor Sanctuary, who was probably the only one fit for the role.
Afterwards, the heat and the drought are dispelled by rain. Mrs Jaraby declares to her husband:
‘We are bystanders now…We cannot move events or change the course already set. We are at the receiving end now.’
But she ends the novel by rallying her husband:
‘We are together again, Mr Jaraby; this is an occasion for celebration, and you must do the talking for a while. Cast gloom aside, and let us see how best to make the gesture. Come now, how shall we prove we are not dead?’
This is a fine, short tragicomic novel. The plot is straightforward, but the narrative is beautifully wrought.
We are made to understand how our school days really do shape us for the rest of our lives.
Not necessarily in a good way, either.
TD
October 2025
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