Before studying the works, it is natural enough to try to get to know a little about the man himself. This concern becomes still more legitimate when the man is little-known. The belated ‘success’ of Lindsay's books, well after his death, partly explains the scant interest shown in what kind of man he was. Moreover, being quiet and shy, he lived on the fringe of his contemporaries, surrounded by only a few friends who, in any case, never came to know him really well. The scarcity of information immediately available, however, does not mean that such research is devoid of interest. There are many who, reading Lindsay's books, have tried to guess what lay hidden behind these unusual stories. Their sharpness or their extravagance are almost open invitations to discover the personality of the writer. The little evidence that we do have only confirms the wealth of this personality. Some of those who knew Lindsay, whilst testifying to the fact that his work held little attraction for them, could not refrain from stressing the fascination exercised by the man himself.

YOUTH

David Lindsay was born 3 March 1876, at Blackheath, a suburb of London. He was the youngest child of three; he had a brother, Alexander, and a sister, Margaret. His father, Alexander Lindsay, was of Scottish origin.