Former Laming Resident Fellow Professor Sir Peter Russell’s fascinating worlds are brought to life in a new biography by Bruce Taylor. Old Member Colin Wight (Modern Languages, 1973) reviews the new book and reflects on his own experiences as a student who attended Sir Peter’s lectures and seminars.
A review of Scholar-Spy: The Worlds of Professor Sir Peter Russell by Bruce Taylor
Appointed at the age of 39, Peter Russell was King Alfonso XIII Professor of Spanish Studies from 1953 until his retirement in 1981. He remained intellectually active until shortly before his death on 22 June 2006.
In October 1973, as a first-year undergraduate attending Professor Russell’s popular lectures in the Taylorian, I knew almost nothing about this impressive, leonine figure — apart from the fact that he had edited and written key chapters of one of the most useful books in my modest library, Spain: A Companion to Spanish Studies (1973). A decade later, back at Queen’s as a graduate student, I came to admire his intellect and achievements but still knew little about the man. Dr Bruce Taylor — an Oxford-educated historian — became Russell’s friend and confidant in the 1990s. He has enjoyed unrestricted access to Russell’s journals and literary archive and has spoken to many of his former colleagues and students. The result is this comprehensive and beautifully-written 430-page biography.
Peter Wheeler was born in New Zealand on 24 October 1913. At the age of 12 he moved with his mother and younger brother to England. Shortly afterwards Mrs Wheeler changed the family name to Russell. After attending Cheltenham College, Peter Russell came up to The Queen’s College to study Modern Languages (French, Spanish and Portuguese), graduating with a First in 1935. During both the Spanish Civil War and the Second World War, he served as an intelligence officer in Europe and further afield. One of his duties was to keep an eye on the Duke of Windsor, en route from Madrid via Lisbon to the Bahamas, with orders to shoot the former King if the situation called for it — or so the story goes. He left with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.
One of his duties was to keep an eye on the Duke of Windsor…with orders to shoot the former King if the situation called for it.
In 1946 Russell was appointed university lecturer in Spanish and a Fellow of Queen’s. He went on to make huge contributions to both historical and literary studies, beginning with his work on the activities of the Plantagenets on the Iberian peninsula, eventually published as The English Intervention in Spain and Portugal in the Time of Edward III and Richard II (1955). He gained a reputation as a fearless iconoclast, publishing work which, informed by painstaking research in neglected archives and a knowledge of medieval diplomatic, went against received wisdom. In 1952 he published a paper that challenged the generally accepted date and authorship of the Spanish national epic, the Cantar (or Poema) de Mio Cid. Had he not done so, Russell’s academic status in Spain would have been higher than it was. Then, in 1960, he upset the Portuguese cultural establishment by demolishing the nationalist myth of Prince Henry and his (non-existent) Algarvian school of navigation. Peter Russell’s reassessment of Henry as fundamentally a crusading imperialist, a prince of his time rather than a visionary man of science, was based, as always, on sound, objective reasoning and a meticulous examination of primary sources. That did not prevent him from being persona non grata during the Salazar regime. At last, and somewhat ironically, he was awarded the Order of Infante Dom Henrique in 1993.
In another influential article, published in 1969, Russell pointed out what critics since the Romantic era had chosen to ignore: for all its brilliant originality, Don Quixote is not the story of a tragic idealist, let alone an exploration of the Spanish national character. The soi-disant knight errant is a silly old fool — although sane people, as Cervantes demonstrates, are also capable of behaving like lunatics. A funny book can also be a great book.
A funny book can also be a great book.
I mention in Taylor’s book an incident that took place in 1982 during one of the weekly seminars at St Giles’ which I attended as a graduate student. One of those present (not me, fortunately) said that it must have been dangerous, if not impossible, for Lorca to ‘come out’ in the 1930s. Russell replied, with a wry smile: ‘I think I am correct in saying that I am the only person in this room who knew Lorca, and I can assure you that being homosexual in Spain in the 1930s was not a problem’. I can’t be certain these were his exact words but that was the gist. Russell’s private journal makes it clear that he, too, was homosexual, but he seems to have shunned physical intimacy with men and women alike and lived a celibate life. Though sociable and apparently at ease with everyone, including himself, he had lived alone in Belsyre Court up the Woodstock Road for as long as anyone could remember.
Peter Russell’s battles with depression and his long-term treatment by psychoanalysis are described in some depth here and come as a revelation. Likewise the details of his wartime service, largely a mystery during his lifetime, are clarified and add considerably to our knowledge of MI5 operations.
Older contemporaries at Oxford (e.g. Enid Starkie, John Betjeman, George Kolkhorst) frequently appear in his diaries, and Taylor has done a fine job in selecting snippets which will be of interest to historians of the period. Copious photographs help round out the story. In addition to a comprehensive index there is a bibliography of Russell’s nearly 200 published works, sources both published and unpublished, and resumés of the careers of the 40 or so graduates he supervised over the years, including my own tutor at Queen’s, John Rutherford.
Javier Marías, Spain’s most famous and successful novelist from the 1980s until his early death in 2022, became fascinated by Russell during his time in Oxford and based ‘Toby Rylands’ on him in Todas las almas (All Souls, 1989). Later he made ‘Peter Wheeler’ the central character of Tu rostro mañana (Your Face Tomorrow), a trilogy of well-received novels. Russell did not object to his depiction and corresponded regularly with Marías. Whilst Javier Marías’s fictional works continue to sell in their thousands, both in Spanish and in translation, there is now nothing in print by Sir Peter Russell (he was knighted in 1995). Such is the fate of the academic today, no matter how distinguished.
Scholar-Spy: The Worlds of Professor Sir Peter Russell by Bruce Taylor (London, SPLASH Editions, 2024). ISBN 9781912399406
Colin Wight was at Queen’s as an undergraduate (1973-1977), and as a graduate student (1978-1984).