Jan Morris recently was voted 15th greatest British writer
since the Second World War. Her award winning publications include the 1960
travel book Venice, which has never
been out of print since it first rolled off the presses, and the history
trilogy Pax Britannica. But her
writing must take second place in this commentary to the romantic drama of her
life.
Born James Humphrey Morris on October 2, 1926, the future
Jan Morris became Britain’s leading journalist in the 1950s. After service in
the 9th Queen’s Royal Lancers during the closing period of World War II, Morris
was the Times correspondent who
accompanied the British Mount Everest Expedition. Other prominent reporting
followed. In many ways James Morris was much blessed. His successful career
paralleled a successful marriage. In 1949 he had wed Elizabeth Tuckniss, and together
they had five children.
But in 1964 James Morris began a medical transition that
would culminate in a trip to Morocco in 1972, where he underwent sex
reassignment surgery. James became Jan. Whatever interior struggles he had previously
had in some ways at that time transitioned into her struggles to reformulate a
life and a career.
Pax Britannica,
begun by Morris while he was a man, was completed when she was a woman. And
over time there followed a trove of other triumphs in literature, from travel
books (The Matter of Wales, Trieste and
the Meaning of Nowhere) to essays (Among
the Cities, O Canada!, Contact! A Book of Glimpses), history, fiction, and
memoir.
The British government had forced Elizabeth and her husband
to divorce following Jan’s transition. At the time same-sex unions were not
permitted. But the couple never stopped living together and loving one
another. Recently, on May 14 this year, Elizabeth
and Jan tied the knot again in a Britain where same-sex civil unions are now sanctioned.
“I
made my marriage vows 59 years ago and still have them,” Elizabeth told the Evening Standard, following their
government-sanctioned reuniting. “We are back together again officially. After
Jan had a sex change we had to divorce. So there we were. It did not make any
difference to me. We still had our family. We just carried on.”
For
Elizabeth and Jan, now in their 80s, love has consistently trumped sexual
identity, convention, and all of the sturm und drang that so pervasively
accompany the politics of sexual expression. Here is a case of two humans
loving one another over the course of a lifetime, everything else be damned.