Alan Turing's gay short story reveals 'fun, cheeky' man
A startling new study of a little-known, unpublished short story by Alan Turing challenges our understanding of the man who played a key role in cracking the Nazi’s Enigma code, developed the theoretical underpinning of the first computers, and laid the groundwork for the development of artificial intelligence.
‘Pryce’s Buoy’, a six-page, scruffily hand-written fragment of a short story cared for by archivists at King’s College Cambridge has been transcribed and fully studied for the first time.
Professor Sarah Dillon’s findings, published in The Review of English Studies, will surprise anyone who accepts The Imitation Game’s portrayal of Turing.
“He’s come to be seen as socially unaware, entirely concerned with logic and numbers, and pretty isolated. His short story reveals a very different man: playful, funny, cheeky, literary, and someone who really liked sex.”
Turing’s story – which Dillon believes he wrote in late 1952 or early 1953 – centres on Ron Miller, a working-class rent boy; and Alec Pryce, a homosexual scientist famed for an invention in his twenties known as ‘Pryce’s buoy’, hence the title sometimes given to the story.
Alec’s character is clearly autofictional – he represents Turing himself – and Dillon has no doubt that ‘Pryce’s Buoy’ is a direct fictionalisation of the late 1951 sexual encounter which led to Turing’s arrest.
“There was clearly more and that's so frustrating,” says Dillon. “We don't know where the rest of it went. We don't know if Turing's mum censored it. Did it get more sexually explicit? How did it end? That’s frustrating but everything else is so exciting.”
“Turing died when he was only 41, and in those years running up to his death, he was trying to understand himself and his world. Literature offered him a really powerful way of doing that. This was the moment when he really felt a release, a chance to be more creative and playful.”
Professor Dillon’s most exciting discovery identifies a fellow Bletchley Park veteran as the inspiration behind Turing’s short story. At the end of 1942, Turing was at Bletchley at the same time as Angus Wilson (1913–1991), who was translating Italian naval codes. They didn’t meet but became acquainted after the war through King’s College Cambridge social circles.
It was already known that Turing read homosexual fiction, including the work of Angus Wilson, but Dillon reveals a very specific literary debt. In July 1952, Wilson published Hemlock and After, a pioneering gay novel – almost banned from libraries – which had a profound impact on Turing.
In fact, on close reading Turing’s story and Wilson’s novel, Dillon discovered that Turing “copied” one section of Wilson’s book “in many explicit ways, including replicating the order of events in the plot, reproducing the same (or very similar) phrases and diction, and adopting the narrative technique of shifting focalisation which Wilson deploys throughout Hemlock and After.”
Dillon argues that Hemlock and After was precisely the novel Turing needed to read at a pivotal moment in his life. “Wilson showed that homosexuality was normal and an integrated part of many people's psychological and social lives,” Dillon says. “He also made the law against it look increasingly outlandish.”
“Imagine being Turing. You're a homosexual man, you've been prosecuted, you've been forced to take hormone treatment. And then just months later, you read this novel. It must have been such a powerful moment for Turing amid so much trauma.”
As well as calling for a reassessment of Turing’s character, Professor Dillon argues that Angus Wilson deserves far more appreciation. Wilson’s post-war novels about English life almost always include gay characters, not as exceptions, just as a normal part of that social world.
Dillon points out that the most celebrated gay novel of the 20th century, E. M. Forster’s Maurice, wasn’t published until 1971, after Forster’s death. “Wilson was bolder,” Dillon says. “He thought Forster hid and failed to use his powerful reputation.”
Wilson died in poverty and ignominy in 1991, having fallen out of favour in academic literary studies in the 1970s, as it became increasingly interested in more radical and subversive gay literature.