In point of fact the book really has very little about the activities of the group other than as a means to advance and string together the narrative, which is a loosely autobiographical account using alternate names for places and people. St Ives becomes "Cuckoo Town" presumably because of the number of infidelities described.
At the opening, Sven, only recently returned to the town, is coming to terms with the breakup of his marriage. It progresses through a poignant and ultimately tragic love affair to a final betrayal of Sven's personal sense of freedom and integrity. Told exclusively from Sven's viewpoint, some events are occaionally subsumed by his violent bouts of temper: in writing surfacing as occasionally libellous vitriol. It is difficult to decide how much these mood swings were caused by his self-confessed use of barbiturates, or whether an underlying psychological condition had been triggered during his breakdown following war service.
While his demons are personified in the folkloric Dark Monarch of the title, another recurrent theme in the book is that of his "Tower", a building he rented as a studio and workshop. I believe the symbolic relevance of the Tower, taken in context with other events in the book, gives an enhanced understanding of Sven's ambivalent attitudes to his life, friendships, and sense of both place and security.
Having first obtained the Tower in a shared arrangement with some acquaintances, he is then forced to fight over possession of the upper floor, which is to him the most important area of the building. Subsequently having obtained sole use of a space one could suppose he would settle into, instead he seems to have a constant stream of visitors, party-goers and lodgers - one having escaped from the mental hospital - and one is left with the impression that the Tower never truly became the hermitage and refuge that he looked for at the outset. He distances himself geographically from the town in the book by placing the tower on a (ficticious) tidal island.
Today the Tower still stands, by the slipway to Porthgwidden Beach adjacent to the public toilets which were built on the space Sven formerly used for working on his sculptures, and which represent one of the final great betrayals at the close of the book. It is a nondescript edifice, easily overlooked, barely seen from the road until one is level with the toilet block. The window facing the road is now blind; boarded over. The door is painted the ubiquitous blue of St Ives. Intriguingly the east window was ajar and a curtain of contemporary design was half-drawn, suggesting current occupation.
I had gone in search of it because the most recent photo found on the internet was taken in 2009. There has been some building development in the area, and I couldn't honestly remember seeing the building despite frequent walks in that area of town. It has a mystique by virtue of being overshadowed and camouflaged by the toilet block, and, in its uncompromising utilitarian location, has a certain pathos in the very fact of its continuing existence.
On leaving St Ives, Sven moved to Hampshire, where later he wrote the "Dark Monarch", and which was to bring all his demons crashing down on him. The resulting libel suits ruined him financially and the book was withdrawn only days after publication. Now, the manuscript has been republished, following permission from interested parties, and enable us to see a self-critique every bit as incisive as his comments on others.
For me, his prophetic vision of what St Ives would become at the hands of bureaucracy and commercialism (even then most of the town was owned by a handful of families) set the seal on Sven Berlin's ability to clearly see the truth beyond the petty manouverings of those around him, and sadly, all too many of his predictions have borne fruit.
Dark Monarch, Sven Berlin 1962 (2nd ed.,Published 2009 by Finishing Publications)
ISBN: 978-0-904477-320
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