Dear Oscar,

I wonder what sort of a friend you would have been to me, and what sort of a friend I would have been to you! I know there were those – Robbie Ross, for instance – who were devoted to you and endlessly supportive, but I fear I may have been the sort of person to be slightly wary of you, and not be particularly supportive of your worst crimes. I do not know, it is very hard to say because we are from different eras, and different social milieus.

I think I am a little judgemental, even to myself. If I were my own best friend I might well be quick to criticise, and also to condemn should I ever step out of line about anything. If I am ever speeding in my car, then there is always a voice in my head which slows me down, keeps me within the legal allowances, points out, as a friend and a confidant would, that there will be a heavy price to pay if I am found out, or if I cause any sort of accident. I am something of a sage counsellor, always thinking through the various ramifications of any course of action. I sometimes try the experiment though of being my own best friend, and of imagining what it would be like if I were looking at myself objectively, and could offer advice as only a friend can. Would I encourage myself to be more adventurous, to break the rules, to be more selfish and self-seeking? The position of the best friend may not always have in mind the best outcomes for the one who is befriended. In fact it might be argued that because it is something of an objective relationship, then the friend can project on to the other all of the possibilities that s/he is too averse to taking.

I think you would have ultimately been a caring friend, Oscar, someone who cared for the others who were in his life, as I must be to myself.

Best wishes, as ever,

Algernon B. Duffoure.