‘Truth is stranger than fiction, and has need to be, since most fiction is founded on truth.’
- Edgar Wallace, The Man Who Knew, 1919
It is one of the most famous scenes in motion picture history. A gigantic ape, roaring defiantly, stands at the top of the Empire State Building and is attacked from all sides by fire from circling aeroplanes. King Kong caused a sensation when it first appeared on cinema screens in 1933, becoming the first film to open at the world’s two largest theatres – the Radio City Music Hall, and the Roxy, in New York – simultaneously. ‘The Strangest Story Ever Conceived by Man … the greatest film the world will ever see,’ the publicity declared. ‘For once the catch-lines were right,’ wrote film historian Denis Gifford, ‘in the history of horror movies, indeed of movies, King Kong still towers above them all.’ [1]
More than eighty years on, the story of how the eponymous gorilla is captured on a remote island and taken to New York, where he escapes and causes havoc, still packs a punch. It’s not just a thrilling adventure tale and horror story, but a romance too – a modern reworking of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ that never fails to touch our emotions. There have been two film remakes, in 1976 and 2005, and a new musical version opened in Melbourne, Australia, in 2013 to widespread critical acclaim. In 1991, the 1933 film was deemed to fit the criteria of being ‘culturally, historically or aesthetically significant’ by the US Library of Congress, and was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry.
But, while almost everyone knows the story of King Kong, and its place in cinematic history is assured, what is less well known is the almost equally fantastic tale of his English co-creator, who tragically died in Hollywood at the moment of his greatest and most enduring success. Writing the screenplay for Kong was the last major piece of work for Edgar Wallace, a man who packed into his relatively short time on earth enough achievements and experiences to fill several lives over.
Wallace worked as a printer’s assistant; a milk roundsman; a newspaper seller; a plasterer’s labourer; a soldier; a ship’s cook and captain’s boy on a Grimsby fishing trawler; a boot and shoe shop assistant; a rubber factory worker; a newspaper reporter; a foreign correspondent; a racing tipster; a columnist; a special constable; and a film producer and director. The illegitimate son of a travelling actress, who left school at the age of 12 with no formal qualifications, he was also, at one point, the most widely read author in the world. Wallace made his name writing fast-paced thrillers, detective stories and tales of adventure. He wrote more than 170 books, and his work was translated into more than thirty languages. More films were made from his books than those of any other twentieth-century writer. He was the publishing sensation of the 1920s – in one year in that decade, one out of every four fiction books bought in England was by Edgar Wallace. If that wasn’t enough, he also wrote twenty-three plays, sixty-five sketches and almost 1,000 short stories. ‘Wallace brought the art of popular entertainment to a pitch which never before had been achieved by any other writer,’ wrote his 1938 biographer, Margaret Lane. [2]
Edgar Wallace’s work was devoured by people of all classes, nationalities and political persuasions. Among his millions of fans were King George V, British Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, a president of the United States, and a certain Adolf Hitler who, it is said, owned copies of all of Wallace’s books. The man born in poverty in south-east London, and whose mother gave him away to foster parents when he was just over a week old, became one of the biggest celebrities in Britain in the first third of the twentieth century.
He cut a flamboyant figure, chain-smoking cigarettes from his trademark 10in-long cigarette holder and being chauffeur-driven round London in a yellow Rolls-Royce. Wallace worked hard and played hard and was renowned not just for his industry but for his incredible generosity which knew no bounds. It was this open-handedness which meant that, despite his high income, Wallace died heavily in debt. However, he wouldn’t have minded too much as he was a man with big ambitions who did everything on a grand scale. The covers of his books often carried the proud boast of the publisher: ‘It is impossible not to be thrilled by Edgar Wallace.’ As I hope to prove, it is also impossible not to be thrilled – and inspired – by Edgar Wallace’s extraordinary life story.
Neil Clark is the author of Stranger Than Fiction. Edgar Wallace was the author of 173 books, translated into over thirty languages. More films were made from his books than any other twentieth century writer, and in the 1920s a quarter of all books read in England were written by him. The illegitimate son of a travelling actress, rose from poverty in Victorian England to become the most popular author in the world and a global celebrity of his age. He scooped the signing of the Boer War peace treaty when working as a war correspondent, before achieving success as a film director and playwright. At the height of his success, he was earning a vast fortune, but the money went out as fast as it came in. Famous for his thrillers, with their fantastic plots, in many ways Wallace did not write his most exciting story: he lived it. ‘It is impossible not to be thrilled by Edgar Wallace’, said the blurb on Wallace’s books. Indeed, it is impossible not to be thrilled by his rags-to-riches story, told for the first time here ...