Weird Science: Avies Platt, Yeats at the Sex Education Society
When Avies Platt attended a meeting of the Sex Education Society (a group lead by "controversial sexologist" Norman Haire) she became captivated by "tall, somewhat gaunt, aristocratic, very dignified" W.B. Yeats. Platt, in her early 40s, attended the meeting to find out more about the "Steinach Rejuvenation Operation" for her husband, who was experiencing a lack of "sexual potency;" Yeats, at 72, had "a strong, yet sensitive face, crowned by untidy locks of white hair." Now, London Review of Books will soon publish Platt's papers which tell the whole story of what happened next. From The Guardian:
It’s a story that has lain hidden in a plastic bag at the back of a dusty drawer and forgotten for more than 40 years before being uncovered, alongside faded letters and old diaries – a description of an extraordinary encounter between an art teacher and WB Yeats during a debate on methods to restore sexual potency.
Now Avies Platt’s account of her meeting and subsequent evening with the poet is set to be published in the London Review of Books. Platt, an art mistress at Wellingborough County High School for Girls in Northamptonshire, was in her early 40s when she met the 72-year-old Yeats at an open meeting of the Sex Education Society, a group headed by controversial sexologist Norman Haire – best-known for his practice of the Steinach rejuvenation operation, a semi-vasectomy which he believed could combat the effects of old age and restore sexual potency.
“Two rows back stood the most striking-looking man I had ever seen,” Platt records. “Tall, somewhat gaunt, aristocratic, very dignified: a strong, yet sensitive face, crowned by untidy locks of white hair … He leaned slightly forward, resting both hands on the chair in front of him … How long I looked I do not know, but … all the time he just stood motionless and gazed.”
The two strangers struck up a conversation and discovered a mutual interest in writing and art, not to mention the Steinach operation. Platt was hoping to find help for her older lover, referred to only as MM, who had begun to suffer from impotence and Yeats admitted he had had the operation three years previously. “As we drove across London [he told me]: ‘I regard it as one of the greatest events, if not the supreme event of my life’,” Platt writes. [...]
Learn more at The Guardian.