Telling Tales (38 page)

The story of how Boyd came to conceive the Tate hoax is fascinating in itself. Years before, he had been asked, along with twenty-five other writers, to contribute an entry to David Hockney’s illustrated
Alphabet
, and came up with the non-existent Laotian philosopher Nguyen N, whose aphoristic jottings had been briefly popular in interwar Paris. He referred to his seminal work,
Les Analects de Nguyen N
, and much to his amazement found himself talking to someone at the book’s launch party who not only claimed to know
Les Analects
, but had recently heard of a wealthy book-buyer who was after a first edition. This gave Boyd pause for thought. He realized that it would be entirely possible to construct a plausible life through things like fake library records, old photographs, quotes from well-known writers and academic-style citations, and create an enjoyable book in the process.

A few years later, as an editorial board-member of the magazine
Modern Painters
, he found himself discussing ways in which the magazine might start publishing fiction as well as criticism and interviews. It suddenly occurred to him that he was looking at the ideal opportunity to perform his biographical magic trick. So, with the collusion not only of the magazine but with Picasso’s biographer John Richardson and Gore Vidal (who both gave fake quotes about Tate for the book), David Bowie and the editors of the
Sunday Telegraph
(who agreed to run an extract), the hoax began to take shape.

21 Publishing, the firm who finally brought out the book in 1998, were perhaps even more excited than Boyd about seeing the effect this new lost celebrity would have on the current show-offs of the art world. As its director Karen Wright said: ‘We were very amused that people kept saying “Yes, I’ve heard of him.” There is a willingness not to appear foolish. Critics are too proud for that.’

As for the debunking of this gentle yet culturally significant hoax, Boyd said that he had hoped the truth would slowly dawn on readers as they picked up on the many ‘covert and cryptic clues and hints as to its real, fictive status’ he had planted in it. The subject’s name alone should have rung bells for anyone familiar with the two most famous art galleries in Britain. As it was, a journalist from the
Independent
overheard two people who were in on the deception discussing it shortly before the London launch and forced a swift admission from Boyd after exposing him in print.

Although the fawning guests at the New York party might have been a little embarrassed about being duped, the fact that Boyd is that rare thing, an entirely serious but very well-liked and indeed fun writer (and that no one who was going to either earn or spend money on the book had been deceived) meant no one could complain seriously about the literary daedalics which turned out to be as equally edifying as diverting for all concerned. However, as he admitted recently in a
Guardian
article recalling those days in April 1998, even this most intellectual brand of hoaxing began to tax his conscience rather unpleasantly by the time of his unmasking:

For any hoax to work there has to be a great deal of convincing mendacity. Things had got out of hand – it had all got too big and high profile. Angst had set in. Duplicity, pretence, obfuscation, covering tracks, ambiguities and evasions are all polite descriptions of ‘telling lies’.