Frank Harris

This part of the site is dedicated to the notorious author and editor Frank Harris, whose My Life and Loves scandalised Britain, Europe and America in the 1920s. Notwithstanding his reputation as a rogue and womaniser, he was an entertaining writer and individual who was always his own man.

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Lies and Libels of Frank Harris

Edited by Gerrit and Mary Caldwell Smith, with Arguments by Kate Stephens

Byron Caldwell Smith was Professor of Greek Language and Literature at the University of Kansas during Harris' time there. He seems to have been an exceptional individual, for despite the fact that he died at the age of 27 there were at least two posthumous books published about him, apart from the one discussed here and the several mentions in Volume I of My Life and Loves to which it responds.

Frank Harris

A Biography

Throughout his life Frank Harris attracted admirers by his talent, his original and forthright way of speaking and the rare strength of his personality. Unhappily, it was usually not long before the darker side of his character would make itself known, and his onetime devotees would draw away, repulsed by his brutality or perceived venality. Those that did not leave of their own accord were generally pushed away anyway by him, once he had decided that their enthusiasm did not come up to the high standard set by his vanity.

Frank Harris: In Memoriam

Fragments of His New York Days

This little pamphlet, published as a commemorative item for American disciples of Harris, collects some articles from Pearson's. Most of them were written by Guido Bruno and consist largely of gushing praise for the late great master.

There are nevertheless one or two interesting items including a reproduction of a sketch of Harris by Joseph Simpson used as the frontispiece. I also much enjoy a piece from December 1920 in which Harris' after-lunch routine is described, including this passage:-

The Yellow Ticket


This book, published in the US with slightly different content as The Veils of Isis, was Harris' fourth collection of short stories. By this time Harris' writing was much more complex than in his first collection, Elder Conklin, and he employed much a greater variety of settings and styles. However, complexity is not always a virtue and some of the stories here seem to have been artificially inflated.