Revealed: Morrissey's Leaked Letters to His Publisher

Arch provocateur and former indie band singer Morrissey has announced that he is writing a novel. Earlier this week, a friend of mine at Penguin, his publisher, forwarded me a correspondence between the ex-Smiths lyricist and an editor at the venerable publishing house. Here it is…

From: Morrissey

Subject: My next classic

To: Mr.Penguin

Dear Mr Penguin,

Herein, the direction of my novel, to be entitled simply, A Son to Nobody’s Mother.

It will begin in the North of that once great, now desecrated nation we call England. The humdrum towns, the steel mills, the ceaseless rain, the session musicians stealing money from your own pocket. In this provincial setting, a young man of rare precocity comes into the world. He is called Morrissey Wilde and is to be referred to throughout the book by his full name. Every sentence of the novel will feature his name. This is what is known as originality.

Morrissey Wilde is the son to nobody’s mother, progeny of a motherless mother, child of some other body’s mother. Unlike Romulus and Remus, he suckles at the teat not of a wolf, for that would be a senseless desecration of a noble beast, but of a woman beaten down by England, a woman labouring under Thatcher’s yolk. The novel will be illustrated with deliberately crude illustrations made by my houseboy Manuelo, of the so-called “Lady” Thatcher eating the mangled corpses of orphaned working class llamas.

Morrissey Wilde casts off the shackles of his provincial childhood and trudges, a knapsack on his shoulder, down the old way to England’s ancient capital, which I will refer to as “that squalid desecrator of dreams, London” in every sentence of the novel. Once again, I will remind you that this is what is known as originality and who are you to question an artist? Did you write “A Rush and a Push and the Land is ours”? No, you did not.

With his best friend, a Burberry-clad lout named Daz, Morrissey Wilde sets out to find himself. Daz represents what is great about Britain. He is a muscular, monosyllabic vegan who regularly strikes royalists with his preferred weapon, the brick.

There will be a section of around 250 pages set in an abattoir, in which Morrissey Wilde lives among the cows until he teaches them how to talk and they rise up against their owners, David and Victoria Peckham, a footballer and his idiot mistress wife. Eventually, the cows tie the Peckhams up and drag them to the edge of the local village, where the chief Cow, Daisy, asks Mr Peckham if he can pick a harp out of a line-up of household implements. Mr Peckham cannot and so the villagers flog him and his wife. Morrissey Wilde sees this and cries for the beauty of the world.

I will include a 90-page freeform poem about Morrissey Wilde’s abhorrent grandmother and her flour-stained hands. This will segue naturally into a chapter in which the protagonist gets a job in a McDonald’s, which is run by the Norwegian fascist Anders Breivik. Together, Breivik, a strong but silent seer who is revealed to love his own mother, and Morrissey Wilde, take down the murderous burger company from the inside by exposing the company’s CEO, David Cameron, for being the stag-shooting toff he is. In a violently poetic scene, Morrissey Wilde and Breivik tie Mr Cameron up and force-feed him a live cow until he chokes to death. They then make burgers from Mr Cameron’s corpse and serve them to the board of directors of McDonald’s, two former musicians from Manchester.

For this service to society, our hero must do hard time in prison but, with the help of a group of bare-chested Latin American freedom fighters, Morrissey Wilde escapes and topples the corrupt government of this supposedly “united” kingdom. In the climactic scene, the protagonist gets England’s Queen, the monster Elizabeth, to publically admit that she is a carnivorous cadaver, a walking cyborg who steals from all around her. She is then executed on the balcony of her palace, along with all her family. England is restored to its former glory, with Morrissey Wilde serving as leader. Daz, his faithful companion, is his right-hand man and his cabinet is made-up of a wise old Pig, the talking cows and the bare-chested Latin American freedom fighters.

The novel will be sold at the market rate: £199.99. I will only accept praise on the cover from the following men: Shakespeare, David Johansen, Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde, Heinrich Himmler, Nigel Farage.

There it is.

Morrissey

Los Angeles, California

From: Mr.Penguin

Subject: Re: My next classic

To: Morrissey

Dear Morrissey,

Here at Penguin, we are all so very excited about your novel. We’ve talked of nothing else, I promise you!

It sounds brilliant and I can say in all honesty that I can see it being the best thing we’ve ever published. But then, that will come as no surprise to you, I’m sure. We’ve been kicking around some ideas over here at editorial, and I hope you don’t mind if I share them with you.

Firstly, we just love the playfulness of naming your main character after yourself. Very Paul Auster! I have never written any pop song, let alone one as good as any of yours, but while I think that including his name in every sentence is fascinatingly playful in terms of the novel, as form, I’m worried it may become distracting.

The abattoir section sounds like the perfect way to explore the hypocrisy at the heart of our carnivorous society. The talking cows are a wonderfully magical realist touch, will these be presented as some kind of allegory, or is it fantastical? We admire your scurrilous satirising of the Beckhams, but could you distance the characters from the real people? We are about to release David’s fourth ghost-written autobiography and we don’t want a conflict of interests. Perhaps if the character was a cricketer and he were called Smith?

We are concerned that the thrust of your satire will be lost by the inclusion of a scene in which the current prime minister of this country is force-fed a live cow. Needless to say, our lawyers are a little nervous? Do you think Morrissey Wilde could take down a fictional burger chain run by a fictional businessman? And instead of executing the Queen, perhaps they could agree to some sort of managed takeover? Could you re-consider the inclusion of Anders Breivik who is, after all, in prison for the murder of a large number of people?

We loved your joke about retail price and sleeve quotes. We have already lined up sleeve quotes from Paul Morley, Stuart Maconie and the NME.

Look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kind Regards,

Sam Hammond

Senior Editor, Penguin UK

@SamLovesBooks

@PenguinUK

From: Morrissey

Subject: Re: My next classic

To: Mr.Penguin

Dear Samuel,

I read your letter with some interest but it seems that I consigned it immediately to the flames so forgive me if I fail to recall exactly what you wrote.

As for mentioning Morrissey Wilde in every sentence, I will ask you simply this: Did you write, “William, it was really nothing”? No, you didn’t.

The cows are simply talking cows. They are cows that talk. We used to have a lot of them over my way when I was a boy. Your forthcoming publication of Peckham’s autobiography has only strengthened my will to include him and his ghastly witch of a wife in the novel. In fact, though it makes me physically vomit to write their name, I will change their name from Peckham to Beckham. When confronted with a bush, Morrissey must not beat around it. I shall write a scene in which the autobiography of Beckham is mocked by the cows. I believe that, in the marketing world, this is called synergy?

I was very taken with your notion to not only have a live cow force-fed to Mr Cameron, but also to have him beg the cows for mercy for a full chapter. I believe other Conservative politicians should be included in this scene. I propose Michael Heseltine and Leon Brittan.

I’ve re-thought the scene with the Queen. After she has been executed, Morrissey Wilde will drag her corpse around Buckingham Palace on a chariot driven by the talking cows. This, as you will know, is a nod to your author Homer.

I will never accept a sleeve quote from the filthy rag, the NME. You will find quotes from my requested men and you have my permission to include Maconie and Morley should you really wish.

There it is.

Morrissey

Los Angeles, California

From: Mr.Penguin

Subject: Re: My next classic

To: Morrissey

Dear Morrissey,

We look forward to publishing your novel! It has been scheduled for an Easter release next year and will be published by our famous Penguin Classics imprint.

Kind Regards,

Sam Hammond

Senior Editor, Penguin UK

@SamBooks

@PenguinUK

(The above exchange only happened in the twisted mind of @OscarRickettnow)

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